Fallen Woman(38)

Something changed in his expression. “You know he’s never going to fall for you. If he had a romantic interest, he never would’ve agreed to allow us all to take you out.” His words were slurred but honest. He wasn’t trying to be cruel—he was trying to tell me he was an option if I’d take it. As sobering as his words should have been, they instead allowed me to wallow in the incoherent blur of alcohol with satisfaction. “I’ll make it worth your while.” His thumb grazed my bottom lip, pulling it down slightly. “I bet this mouth can do some serious damage.”

With his hand on the back of my neck, he pulled me closer to his exposed lap. His words echoed in my head, and I knew he was right—Jase would never love me the way I did him. I would always be his project, and the only way to escape that was to escape my circumstances. As long as I was in The Village, Jase Lane would never be an option. And with that drunken, twisted logic, I sealed my mouth around Holland, and at the end of the night was rewarded handsomely with an extra two hundred dollars.

I didn’t realize he’d given me any additional money until I’d closed the door and gone into my kitchen alone. When I saw the extra bills, my heart sank as I realized I’d just become a prostitute. Exactly what I’d promised myself this wouldn’t be. It was only dates, escorting men to functions, nothing intimate, no touching—but in a few short months, I’d compromised who I was for the almighty dollar.

Running to the bathroom, I barely had the toilet seat lifted before I emptied the contents of my stomach into the bowl. Completely disgusted with myself, I tore off the gorgeous dress and threw my shoes across the hall. Once I had rid myself of all clothing, I turned the shower on as hot as I could stand it without scalding my skin, stepped in, and stood under the stream until my sin had been washed away with the filth that covered my body.

I brushed my teeth and climbed into bed. I’d always called Jase after a night with one of his friends, but I couldn’t stand the thought of what I’d done and was afraid I’d spill my secret the moment he answered the phone. As much as I needed to hear his voice, I closed my eyes in favor of sleep—hoping I’d wake up and tonight would’ve been a dream.

~~~

The following morning, I woke with a horrible headache and my phone ringing incessantly. I saw Jase’s gorgeous gray eyes staring back at me and slid the bar to accept the call.

“Hey, Jase.”

“Hey, beautiful. I’ve been worried about you. Why didn’t you call me last night when you got home?”

I couldn’t tell him the truth, but I refused to lie. “I was pretty intoxicated, so I showered and went to bed.”

“Did you have fun with Holland?”

“Sure.” I glanced at the clock and realized how late in the morning it was. “Hey, Jase. I’ve got to retrieve my kids. Can we talk later?”

“Of course.”

We hung up the phone without Jase knowing what I’d done. I prayed Holland kept his mouth shut and didn’t run loose-lipped to his buddies about what happened in the back of the limo. I still couldn’t shake the feelings of shame and was repulsed by the hundred dollar bills lying on the counter top in the kitchen. It didn’t matter how I justified needing the money—I’d accepted it in exchange for a sexual favor. I was no better than the trash I lived around or grew up with.

I had to force myself to get up, and even though I’d showered the night before, the stench of alcohol permeated my pores and lingered in my sheets and pajamas. My hair clung to my head in a wet, sweaty mess. Afraid of what I’d see if I looked in the mirror, I bypassed my reflection and went straight to the tub, stripping my stinky clothes as I went. After I showered, I filled the tub with warm water and soaked until the ache in my head began to subside. I knew I had to get out and get the kids but kept giving myself five more minutes.

Once the tepid water began to shrivel my skin, I got out and wrapped myself in a towel. Opting for jeans and a T-shirt, I quickly finished with my hair and no makeup so I could go next door. All I could think of was hugging each of them tightly and embracing their unconditional love. No matter what I’d done last night, their opinion of me wouldn’t change, and those bright smiles warmed my heart every time.

I knocked on Miss Pearl’s front door and waited for her to answer. When she didn’t respond, I knocked again, a little harder this time. The apartment wasn’t that big; I couldn’t imagine she didn’t hear me. I heard voices on the other side of the door, but I knew the kids wouldn’t be able to see through the peephole to know it was me.

“Hey, guys. It’s Mommy. Can you open up for me?” I spoke loud enough for them to hear me and was rewarded with the click of the deadbolt unlocking. When Trace peered through the door, an enormous smile spread across my face. “Hey, buddy. Whatcha doin’?”

He swung the door open for me to come in, but something was wrong. The smell of food was always present at Miss Pearl’s, especially when I came to pick the kids up in the morning. She always had breakfast ready, and it was never a slight spread.

“Miss Pearl doesn’t feel good.” His solemn face spoke volumes. He didn’t want to scare the other kids, but something was wrong.

I ruffled his hair in an attempt to lessen his anxiety and remind him he’s just a kid. “Where is she?”

He pointed to the bedroom but didn’t say anything further.