Skin couldn't save me now. His ring wouldn't comfort me. Not when I was ready to be carted off to hell's lowest tier.
“Get your little ass in the shower and freshen up. My buyer's guy just dropped off my advance, and I'm counting the dollars. I'll get the rest once you're safely at his place.” Ricky paused, and then brought his hands together in a resounding clap, so fierce I jumped. “Come on! Move, bitch.”
I did, just to get him out of my sight.
A minute later, the cold shower poured over my shoulders, freezing the hot tears raining down my cheeks. The chance encounter with the Pistols yesterday was like a sick joke.
For one brief night, I'd had hope. I shouldn't have counted on it. Should've known it would be taken away like this, and the only direction my life would ever go was down, down, down.
I lingered in the shower as long as I could, until I heard his fist pounding on the door. I mouthed something angry and flippant back. I didn't care anymore.
Maybe I could finally give the pimp a few barbs before he shipped me away.
He wouldn't hurt me now. Not seriously. I couldn't show up at the new man's place beat up and bruised.
I toweled myself off and slipped into a cheap white skirt and tank top. The skirt was slightly better than the crap he normally gave us to wear. Too bad the color made me think about the elegant summer dress decaying in my closet, the thing I'd have to leave behind today forever, the last piece of my old, happy life.
“Your purse is on the bed, Fresh. Pack your shit up. I threw in a bag of pretzels to hold you over. Sounds like it's gonna be a long ride to Charlotte for you, but you'll have friends to keep you company.”
Pushing past him, I dug into my purse, ripped the shitty snack bag out, and threw it on the floor at his feet.
“I don't want your fucking sympathy, Ricky. You know what the best part about today is? I'll never have to see you or your crusty, yellow balls again.”
For a second, he stared at the bag, his eyes bulging. I watched him lift a boot and slam it down, crunching everything to smithereens.
He pointed a shaking finger at me. “Don't get smart with me, you vicious cunt!”
“Why? Are you going to beat me up again? Maybe shove your puny cock down my throat?” I started shaking as I said the words, but they felt so good, so empowering, even if I was risking the idiot flying into a fit of range and blowing his deal just to hurt me.
I had to fight. I had to distract him. I eyed my nightstand, and knew I couldn't walk out of here without taking the only thing anyone had given me that ever mattered – even if it couldn't save me anymore.
“You think you're pretty smart, don't you, girl?” He stepped forward and chuckled. I could smell the stink of whiskey on his breath, probably an early celebration over the sale. “The bastard who bought you is a friend to the Deads, and he's a pretty sick, rich motherfucker from everything I hear. Give it a couple weeks. You'll wish to high heaven you were dealing with me again. I really treated you nice, Megan. The least you could give me is a sweet goodbye.”
Hearing my real name on his lips made me cringe.
The demon eyed my breasts, the cleavage peaking out of my tank top. I couldn't control it.
I lunged forward and spat in his face. He stood there, stunned, before slowly raising a hand and wiping away the mist I'd spattered over his nose and eyes.
“You're goddamned lucky you're down to your last hour here,” he growled. “I'll let you throw a fucking tantrum and leave you to settle the hell down for a couple minutes. I'm Mister Nice guy compared to what your new owner's gonna do.”
He kept saying that, and I didn't care. Not one bit.
“Oh, and don't try any of this shit on the boys I hired to transport you. They won't take kindly to it like I will.”
I slumped on the bed and watched him step out, slamming the door behind him. Thank God.
The second I was by myself, I ripped the drawer open and gathered up the trinkets inside. Some lipstick, a small mirror, a half empty packet of birth control pills.
I'd gotten it by trading the loose change Ricky sometimes missed to the other whores for a steady supply. I took them religiously, my only defense to make sure I'd be protected from some monster's kid if Ricky ever went back on his word about blowjobs only, or if he couldn't control one of the Johns.
I picked up Skin's ring and held it up for a moment, admiring the heavy, elegantly engraved metal. I knew it was hopeless, but it didn't feel that way when I held it.
The ring took me away from this. It gave me faith, hope, an alternative to the new impending doom breathing down my throat.