Page 26 of Scarred King
“Congratulations.” I hear the brunette laughing behind me and I force myself upright. “Now you’re one of us.” She’s still laughing as she gathers up the pile of money. “Today’s the first day you sold sex services!” She puts the money back down in front of me and I look at it in disgust and realize what she is saying. “No, I didn’t.” I stand up panicking and sway in place from the dizziness that has returned. “You forced me to stay here.” I curl my hands into fists.
“That doesn’t change the fact that you sold sexual services,” she says mockingly. “But don’t you worry about it, we don’t judge anyone here.”
Her words strike me in the pit of my stomach, and I can’t stop the burning in my throat anymore. “That’s yours,” she points at the money and I shove the table away from me until the dollar bills fall on the floor. I push her aside and run to the restroom, lean over the toilet and vomit. I can’t get any lower than this, I think just before I vomit again. Sometime later, when I feel that there’s nothing left for me to vomit, I stand up and wash my face. The exhaustion, the heaviness and the shock close in on me but instead of running away I shrink into a cloud of apathy. I’ll finish here tonight and leave. This time I won’t come back.
New customers are sitting around the tables with the girls. I serve them wearily and ignore the looks and the snickering around me. Each time I go over the counter Charlie looks at me concerned. He saw what happened and now he’ll never look at me the same way. The last customers leave, the girls gather around a few tables and chat cheerfully. I sit down on a barstool and sip a bottle of water. I’ve never hated anyone as much as I hate those girls and myself right now. But this exhaustion is overwhelming, and my eyes are so heavy.
The connecting door to the dance club opens and the three partners walk in and sit down at the round table.
I put my head down on the counter and don’t lift it, even when I hear the sound of metal ringing on glass.
“Elena,” the brunette yells, and the room falls silent.
“Mmmm…” I mumble and rub my eyes.
“Elena, come and join us. We’ll raise a glass in your honor.” She taps her glass again, and I sit up and gaze at her through a thick fog of exhaustion. “Good,” she giggles, “everyone raise your glasses up high, because today Elena provided sex services for the first time ever!”
“What!?” I hear the shocked cries from the round table and I turn my head. One of the images is growing in front of my eyes. Approaching me. Scarface is standing before me with a furious expression.
“Is she telling the truth?” he asks and grinds his teeth.
“I guess…” I shrug my shoulders and put my head back down on the counter.
“What do you mean, you guess?” He slams his fist down on the counter beside my head and I have no choice but to sit up again.
“Leave me alone.” My head is rocking back and forth. “I’m so tired.”
He glares at me. “You haven’t changed clothes since yesterday. Have you slept at all? Have you been home since I dropped you off at the university this morning?”
“I didn’t have time,” I mumble, praying that he’ll leave me alone.
“And what exactly happened tonight?” He won’t let it go.
“I don’t know.” I mutter. “I was so tired, and I sat down over there,” I point at the tables without moving my head. “And then a man came over and asked me to talk….”
“You sat over there?” His voice rises in anger. “I told you never to sit there.” He puts his hand on the back of my chair and looks at Charlie. “And where the hell were you?”
“I was here,” Charlie says apologetically, “but by the time I noticed, Amber was standing behind her,” I see him pointing at the brunette from the corner of my eye, “and Elena was already talking to him.”
“Tell me exactly what happened.” He says to me furiously but I shrug and refuse.
“Then you tell me,” he says to the brunette in the same tone of voice.
“It was really funny,” she answers, and her friends burst out laughing. For a minute it seems to me as if the scars are spreading to the angelic side of his face. “She just fell asleep there and when I arrived, he was already in the middle of his hand job. He was so excited when he saw her that I didn’t have the heart to replace her.” She tries to stifle another burst of laughter. “And then Elena started to talk. I couldn’t understand how the hell her boring speech didn’t put him to sleep, but he actually got even more excited and he came really quickly.” She sums it up and everyone laughs again.
“How much did he pay you?” Scarface shakes my chair and I sigh in despair.
“I don’t know. Do you really think I’d take money from that pervert?” I try to put my head back down on the counter, but he grips the back of my neck and forces me to look at him. “Where’s the money?” he asks coldly.
“I have it.” The brunette’s voice seems so far away…
“Stupid whore!” he roars at her, and the room falls silent again. “She didn’t take the money, and that means that she didn’t provide any sexual services. It means that she was confused and that you’re a bitch.” He lets go of me and I think that I sigh in relief. “If you ever pull a trick like that again, I will personally see to it that you’ll be working on the street, with other stupid whores like you.” He pulls me up gently and puts his arm around my shoulder. Not a sound can be heard throughout the bar. He walks forward and my legs move with him. He bends down to pick up my backpack and leads me out through the front door.
I feel the helmet being placed on my head and then I am placed on the motorcycle. He sits down in front of me, takes hold of my hands and pulls them around his hips. I lay my head on his back and close my eyes wearily, but when we start moving, I realize that I have no choice but to pull myself together and to hold on tight.
When he stops outside my building, he helps me off the motorcycle and pulls me towards him. I am walking, but I feel that my legs aren’t a part of me. He knows which floor to go to, and when we reach my door, he takes my keychain out of my bag. The door opens and he goes inside with me. “Where to?” he asks, and I try to understand what he wants. “Where should I take you?” he asks in a voice that doesn’t sound angry at all. “Where’s your bedroom?” he makes his question clearer and I jerk my head to the right. “You should get a few hours of sleep.” He lays me down on the bed and plays around with my cellphone. “I turned off your alarm,” he tells me, and I don’t have the strength to object. “Everything’s OK,” he says quietly. He bends down and strokes my shoulder as I close my eyes. “But it would be better if you don’t come back tomorrow.” He moves his finger across my cheek and leaves.
13