Relinquish(38)

“I heard crying. Are you okay?” he questions frantically.

“I’m fine!” I cry, my tone more angry than I intended. I stand up on shaky legs and grab the bed to steady myself.

“Fuck, Fancy,” Terris mutters. I look down, finding the skin around my hips already turning a shade of purple from the grip Tim had on my hips. I purse my lips and shove my dress down to cover myself when a drop of blood splashes onto it. I frown and touch my nose with my fingertips, curious where the blood is coming from. I bring my hand back, finding the culprit. The bed spring must’ve busted my nose.

“Fuck,” I whisper, staring at the blood.

“Get that f*cker!” Terris yells, running off.

I stumble to the bathroom, my hands gliding against the wall, guiding me while my eyes flood with tears. My face doesn’t really hurt, not as much as my pride.

When I finally reach the bathroom, I slump against the wall and fall to my ass.

“Fancy!” Mick yells, rushing into my room.

I don’t move. I just sit here against the bathroom wall, my eyes fixed on the dirty sink in front of me. I can feel it, the grit, the dark, all of which make up rock-bottom. Here I am, sitting at rock-bottom, my mind, body, and soul destroyed. I would think I would’ve hit rock-bottom a long time ago, but here it is… all by one trick. Showing me my place in the world. I don’t have power. I have no control. I don’t have shit. I’m not safe, and nobody can save me.

“Look at me, Fancy,” Mick instructs, pushing my chin to look at him. My gaze slides from the wall to his round face, his thick eyebrows furrowed with concern as his bald head shines from the light above.

“That guy will never come near you again, and he will pay for this,” Mick threatens, his other hand sliding against my cheek. He shifts, grabs some toilet paper, and dabs at my nose.

“Don’t bother, I asked for it,” I mutter, pulling my chin from his grip.

He scowls. “Did you? Did you verbally ask for it?” Mick questions. I don’t answer, just stare at the sink.

“Answer me, Fancy!” Mick roars.

I jump slightly and level him an angry glare. “No!”

“Then you didn’t ask for it,” Mick remarks, standing. “He’ll be handled. As for you, no guy is going to pay for a chick with black eyes and a busted nose. No sex this week. Oral only, and that’s if we’re lucky,” Mick instructs, leaving me to sit on the nasty motel floor with tissue shoved up my nostrils.

***

As the week went by, so did what was left of my conscience. Every day, I woke up from a night filled with nightmares of wings and walked my sorry ass to Mick’s motel. I’m numb, my emotions gone. My thoughts are gone. I’m… gone. I can feel my heart beating, can taste the air entering my mouth. The two important things I need to live, yet I don’t feel alive.

I gave head to two men, and one a hand job. Surprisingly, they were all good-looking. But still, with every rip of the foil to a Jimmie, as Margo calls them, a little piece of my heart goes a shade darker. Although, Jayden and I have a fully stocked fridge, and air conditioning. The day after that john gave me a bloody nose, Jayden and I went home to find a new couch with a TV sitting on a box crate. Mick has kept his word; he’s taking care of us.

Jayden finally got praise from him after he watched her performance with a trick in room 2. His words were along the lines of Jayden looked like she belonged in a porno. Doesn’t surprise me, though. Smith returned for round two. He wanted sex but Mick told him no, so he offered six hundred dollars instead of the usual four. Money speaks wonders in this business, because Mick accepted his offer. Mine and Smith’s round two was an experience I won’t soon forget.

“God, you’re sexy. Better-looking than my fiancée even,” Smith groaned as I rode him.

“Yeah?” I laughed, holding myself up with my hands on his chest. I’m the other woman. Deep down, I felt a little sorry for his fiancée. But I had to admit, it gave me a rush that he thought I was sexier than the girl he planned to spend the rest of his life with.

“Oh, yeah. In fact, I can’t get you out of my head, Fancy,” he panted, cupping my cheek.

“Well, aren’t you sweet,” I flirted, sweat building up my chest. It was actually a little creepy. I lolled my head back and moaned loudly as a flicker of ecstasy built in my abdomen, my sound of bliss Smith’s undoing as he came. He stiffened and pulled my chest to his face, riding his release and depriving me of mine.

“Fuck, I love you, Fancy,” he groaned. I stilled, my eyes wide. Margo said the rule was I had to say it back.

“I—” I choked. “I love you, too,” I whispered, my voice strained. My vision blurred, like all the blood in my system fled, leaving me lifeless. I just told a stranger I loved them…

A knock at the door breaks me from memory lane. I don’t get up, though; I just sit here with my legs crossed. My skimpy purple dress climbs my thighs, revealing my fishnet stockings.

A fat guy walks in, causing me to swallow hard and my eyes to widen. He has red curly hair and overalls that fail at hiding his large gut. The warm air from outside sweeps past him into the room, and I draw back and gag. He smells like body odor. Imagine an entire football team throwing their sweaty jock straps into a pile after a football game to simmer in the summer sun. That’s exactly what this guy smells like.