The disgusting odor of piss mixed with rotting garbage wafted across the narrow breezeway as a gust of wind reminded me just how wretched life could be. These fucked-up moments didn’t exist for the Cinderella life most women lived on the other side of these stucco buildings. Streets where making a living wasn’t lived out in a shitty alley.
“Come on, what bitch wouldn’t want this inside her,” he growled as he pulled down his pants and grabbed himself.
You gonna take care of my sickness, isn’t that right, little Rosalie.
Words bubbled in the back of my throat, bile crawled up from my stomach as I opened up my mouth to scream for him to stop.
I am drowning.
I wanted to stop him from hurting her, protect her like I should’ve been, but the back door of the laundromat slammed shut and I recoiled back into the shadows. A voice, louder, deeper and more commanding, rang across the cracked stucco before it rolled across the weathered wooden doors.
“Hey buddy, you heard the woman, she said no.” His deep voice startled me. He stood tall, burly, dwarfing all of us, his shoulders wide, dark eyes narrowed, legs ready to launch his body if he had to pull the guy off Crystal.
“Fuck you. Find your own bitch to go balls deep.” The drunken asshole slipped his hands up Crystal’s skirt.
I saw the fear in her eyes dissolve to defeat. Her shoulders rounded slightly, just enough to tell me she lost the internal battle of convincing herself that she didn’t deserve what was about to happen. It was a moment when those of us who fuck for money are forced to pretend to be someone else. It was just another shitty part of selling your body. Men will take, when given the opportunity. Tonight was no different.
“I said, let her go!” Laundry Man barked.
“You have no idea what business I’m conducting with this whore, so if you know what’s best for you . . . you’d get the fuck up outta’-here.” The belligerent asshole pulled up on Crystal’s skirt, giving him full access to her. He smiled, and then tangled his grimy hand into her platinum-blond hair before he tugged her head back exposing her neck. Her heart thundered under her thin skin, the muscles in her jaw tightened as she whimpered, tears clung to her eyelashes.
“She isn’t doing business with you anymore.” The huge virile Laundry Man slipped his arm around the front of drunken asshole’s neck and pulled him off Crystal. Gasping for air, Crystal’s attacker’s feet left the concrete; he kicked, stretching for ground. His hands released Crystal as he struggled to grab at the thick, muscular arm choking him out. His haggard face grew red, eyes bugged so large I saw the blood vessels as they began to explode and color the whites of his saucer eyes scarlet. Every gasp and soundless whisper gave way to a shade of blue that seeped around his mouth before his eyes rolled up into the back of his head. It wasn’t more than a couple of minutes before Crystal’s attacker was unconscious and crumpled in a pile of drunken leftover shit.
Standing in the shadows, I watched as Crystal righted her skirt and dragged the back of her hand across her cheeks. The faint glow from the single bulb which dangled above the back door of the pub lit the area around her. I was frozen, back against the grimy stucco wall. I didn’t run to her, I thought about it but decided to lurk in the background between guilt and relief. I had no idea who this man was or his motive for saving Crystal. Risking my livelihood to save her from getting pinched or thrown in jail was something I wasn’t willing to do. She’d be out by the next morning anyway, ready to sell her body again to whoever was willing to pay.
Cops and the DA thought getting picked up would scare us straight. A night in jail didn’t stop us, the money was too good and the hustle was too enticing.
“You okay?” he asked before he reached out to her. His giant hands hovered just below her shoulders making her look so tiny.
“Yeah, I think so,” Crystal whimpered. Her mascara blackened the delicate skin below her aquamarine eyes.
“You sure, Miss . . . ?” he said as he lowered his head and met her gaze.
“Crystal . . . Just Crystal.”
“Just Crystal?”
“Yep.”
“Well, Just Crystal, this isn’t a place you should be hanging out, all alone. You sure you’re okay?” he asked again. Wisps of his dark-brown hair curved amiss across his forehead and around his ears.
Crystal shifted her weight from one leg to the other. With the flick of her hand between them, she answered his question.
“Well, Mister . . . ?” she said as she waited for his answer.
“Shane. Only Shane,” he teased.
“Well, Only Shane, I’m not totally alone. My friends went into the pub. Wrangling up a couple of beers for me and—” She stopped as her eyes caught mine. I shook my head and warned her to keep me out of her conversation with this guy.
“And?” he questioned.
“Just me.”