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Drinking and drugs aged a person prematurely. That wasn't a secret. Seeing it up close and personal though, that only seemed to drive the point home even more. If seeing my dad looking twenty years older than he actually was wasn't a deterrent for me to avoid drugs and alcohol, I didn't know what was.
“It's my work uniform,” I said.
“Oh, so my daughter is a hooker now,” he sneered. “Great.”
“I'm not a –” I stopped right there and bit back the scathing reply that was on my lips.
Clenching my fists at my side, I reminded myself that it would do no good to argue with him. He enjoyed tearing us down. Enjoyed getting a rise out of us. This was entertainment for him. This was how he liked to spend his day. Which, of course, was a testament to just how sad and small his life had become. I turned on my heel, ready to head out that door, but his voice stopped me. Again.
“I always knew you'd be a whore,” he said, a sneer even in his voice. “Always did like the boys a little too much.”
Tears burned in my eyes, but I was determined to not let them fall. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing his words affected me. It's what he craved. I hesitated at the door, still considering turning around and giving him a piece of my mind. But, I knew that's what he wanted and that it would only leave me in tears. I had to get to work. I couldn't show up with my makeup streaming down my face, nor could I afford to be that upset and emotionally volatile on the floor. Not after Leon had given me a final warning about my attitude.
I couldn't deal with him. Not today. I was too tired after working six days in a row – and with at least three more days to go before I'd get a day off. Stupid special event. But, at least the pay was good. At least the rent was paid for the next month. At least I had money to give to Sierra for food, because God knew, Dad wasn't going to feed them.
The echo of sirens drifted down the street as I walked out of the building. Part of me would love to say ‘fuck it all’, keep on walking and never turn back. But, then a car pulled up and my little brother Nick climbed out of the backseat, a huge smile on his face. He was getting so big that some days, I still couldn't believe he was my little brother. As I looked at him, I knew I could never walk out on them. No matter how much I loathed my dad and living where we were. I reminded myself as I looked at him, that I only had a few more years until I could be free of all of this.
A few more years, I told myself, feigning a smile for my little brother as we passed each other in the driveway. Just a few more years and I could leave this shithole forever.
~ooo000ooo~
“You look tired, Casey,” Tommy said as I clocked in for work.
“Thanks, Captain Obvious,” I snapped. He laughed and nodded, obviously anticipating the verbal jab. “You okay?”
I sighed. “I've worked six days in a row with about four hours sleep a night,” I said. “So yeah, I'm a little bit tired.”
Tommy leaned down on the bar, a devious look in his eyes. “I could talk to my dad about letting us have the night off.”
“With you? No thanks, I'd rather work,” I said, rolling my eyes. “At least I'm getting paid to be treated like shit here.”
Tommy's smirk faltered, and that dark look passed behind his eyes. I'd hurt his ego, which was an easy thing to do. Just turning him down seemed to be a gigantic blow to Tommy's pride. He wasn't a man who took rejection well. Probably wasn't used to it. Tommy seemed like the kind of guy who always got what he wanted, especially where women were concerned. That's probably what fed his God complex and made him think he walked on water.
Leon's shrieking voice echoed through the club. “Casey, what are you doing just standing there? Sasha needs to clock out, and the dishes in the back won't do themselves.”
I groaned. Dishes. Yes. Ever since Raya had flounced out of there, the wait staff had to take turns playing the part of dishwasher. If you looked like you weren't busy, or your section thinned out, you'd be sent back to do the dishes. Even though I'd just clocked in literally thirty seconds ago, Leon thought I should already be taking drink orders. How dare I stand around for even a second?
“Guess I'm in the back for a bit,” I grumbled.
Being in the back had its perks – like not having to deal with Leon's shit – but, it also meant no tips. Sure, I'd get paid minimum wage, but the tips were my bread and butter. They were the only real reason I needed to stick it out at this job out.
“Listen, if you'd like, I can
handle the dishes for you tonight,” Tommy said.
I studied his face carefully. “Really?” I put my hands on my hips, searching for the hidden strings. “And what's it going to cost me?”
“Not a thing,” he said.
“Uh huh.” I knew Tommy too well for this.
He wasn't about to help out and do something he considered beneath him like dishwashing without a favor in return. Tommy wasn't an altruistic man. He never did things just out of the goodness of his heart. There was always an angle he was playing. “Spill it, Tommy,” I said. “Who knows, I may even consider your proposition. As long as it doesn't include sexual favors. You can take that off the table right now.”
“Seriously, Casey,” he said, shaking his head. “Can't I just want to help? We have more than enough bartenders tonight. It's slow, and you'd be better used on the floor. I can get my hands dirty sometimes.”
Huh. I was actually left a little speechless. Floored, might have been the better word. It's not something I ever expected out of him. Maybe Tommy wasn't so bad after all. At least, sometimes. Unless this was a trick. Either way, I could go along with it for now. I needed the tips.
“Thank you, Tommy,” I said. “That's really generous of you and I really appreciate it. I'll let your dad know you're heading back.”
