“Don’t be stupid,” Margo whispers, catching mine and Jayden’s attention.
“I’ll take care of you girls, so you won’t have to worry about your next meal. You won’t have to worry about how to pay for a doctor when you’re sick. You’re mine,” Mick pleads his case. His hands steeple as he trails his eyes over us. He knows where we’re weak, knows what we need, and he’s using it to the point we would be stupid to decline his offer. The way he watches my face, my body after every offer he puts on the table, after every word he says, he’s looking for a way to hook us, to hook me.
“We’ll figure it out,” Jayden mutters, grabbing my hand. I look from our joined hands to her gray eyes. She’s been hooked. I can’t resist this offer. What will I do if Jayden or I get sick, or hurt? We can’t afford a hospital.
Our worries of surviving are over if we accept.
“Like you didn’t use me? You took that money without any problem.”
“You’ve already whored yourself out. Why fight who you are?”
Chasen’s words echo in my head. This is what I do. I have sex with men, then take their money. There’s no better path for me. I can’t bail on Jayden. She needs me. We need each other.
“Fine,” I mumble softly.
“Excellent. You start now. Margo, dirty these girls up,” Mick instructs, not taking his eyes off his cigar as he twirls it between his fingers.
“You got it, baby,” Margo coos, opening the office door.
“Oh, and ladies,” Mick stops us. Jayden and I turn, waiting for him to continue. “You try and stiff me on my money, you won’t like the consequences.” His nostrils flare with rage, his eyebrows narrowed with promise. I swallow hard and nod.
“Okay,” Jayden mutters, her voice cracking.
TEN
CHARLIE
Following Margo, I notice the blue paint is chipped along the motel, and the concrete beneath our feet is cracked. Looking across the way, I see half-naked girls – prostitutes – waiting outside their doors, smoking a cigarette and eyeing Jayden and me.
“This is us.” Margo points to an off-white door with the number 1 on it.
Inside the room, there’s a bed with nothing but white sheets and a shitty air conditioner under the window blowing warm air into the room that smells of stale cigarettes. A black fridge, dresser, and chair are the only pieces of furniture apart from the bed.
“Seems Daddy Mick just loves you, huh?” Margo props her hands on her hips and glares at Jayden.
“I, uh,” Jayden stutters.
“Strip,” Margo instructs, kicking her heels off. “I need to see what I have to work with,” she clarifies, heading toward the closet.
“Do you always dress Mick’s new girls?” Jayden sasses, taking her top off.
“I do whatever Daddy Mick asks of me, as you should, too. He’s saving you, ya know?” She turns her head, looking over her shoulder, her tone snarky.
“How so?” Jayden laughs.
“No man who knows you’re with Mick will touch you out of anger. You won’t go hungry ever again. You need air in your apartment? Mick will get it. You need clothes? Mick will take you shopping. He is your savior,” she explains, throwing out a slew of dresses. She makes Mick sound like a god rather than a pimp.
I give a tight-lipped smile and glance around. Jeez, it’s as if I just walked into a dress shop with all the clothes, shoes, and makeup displayed everywhere.
I spot a bright red dress on the bed and smirk. “Hand me that red dress,” I instruct Jayden, my fist clenching with anxiety. She grabs the dress and hands it to me while smiling. She’s happy. She feels safe, knowing our worries of surviving are over, and that makes me happy.
“Oh, you’ll need these.” Margo turns and opens a dresser drawer, pulling out something and tossing it on the bed.
“Fishnets? Isn’t that a little cliché?” I giggle, looking at Jayden who’s laughing, too.
“Embrace ya’ stereotypes, baby. These men, they want that taboo feeling of being with a prostitute. The back of cars, dirty motel rooms, that’s what sells around here,” Margo advises, tossing Jayden a pair of stockings.
“Let’s do it then.” Jayden nods, undoing the tangled stockings.
“Rules,” Margo starts, sitting on the bed while Jayden and I dress. “If your trick is fat, you compliment him on his hair. If he took the time to brush his teeth before seeing you, you tell him how sexy he is. If a man reeks of body odor, you ignore it. You don’t ever say anything about it. If a man has greasy hair or dresses lousy, you never say anything. If they say they love you, you tell them you love them back,” Margo rambles, talking as if she’s reading from a handbook.