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She remembered.
“All my life, he was the one who brought in the money for our family,” I whispered, my voice raw. “When he died, we didn’t have much money coming in. I only had small jobs here and there, but it was never enough. Mom tried to find work, but it was hard. There isn’t much out there for a woman without work experience. We struggled for a long time.”
Reid’s brows knitted together but she didn’t say anything. I tried not to listen to the raging thoughts spinning in my head.
“My sister was still in school, and too young to work,” I said, bracing myself. “So I went out looking for better work. I thought maybe I could find a job as a waitress or a hotel maid or something.”
I swallowed.
“But that didn’t happen,” I said, my shoulders growing heavier the more I danced around the truth. “After about a month, I’d almost given up. That was when I’d heard about clubs, and I thought that maybe working as a bartender would be good enough, and I did that for a little while.”
“Was it enough?” Reid asked, but the darkness in her eyes told me she already knew the answer.
“No,” I said through a sad, wet smile. I sniffled. “Even if I worked all the shifts they had, it wasn’t enough to take care of Mom and my sister.”
I stared at the floor, my lungs rattling in my hollow chest.
“Some of the other bartenders were like me,” I explained. “They were around my age, maybe a little older, some younger. They needed money. Soon enough, there were too many of us and not enough shifts. So I worked in multiple bars and clubs to make up for the lost shifts.”
“What did your mom think about that?”
“She didn’t know I was working at clubs.” I chuckled lifelessly. “I’d told her I was helping out at a nearby clinic during the night shifts.”
The lump in my throat grew three times its size.
“She was so proud of me,” I whispered, my heart cracking. “And she was so busy working and taking care of my sister that I didn’t have to do much to hide the truth from her. But my shifts lessened, and soon enough, I was barely working.”
“What happened after that?” Reid asked.
My face twisted in anguish, the muscles in my shoulders turning to granite at the thought of his name alone. But the memories that followed…
“I met Donnie.”
I took a staggering breath. “I met him at one of the bars I was working at,” I said hoarsely. “He was a regular, and all the other girls knew him by name, always saying he was a great tipper. So when he sat down in front of me, I thought maybe I’d catch a break.”
How stupidly naive I’d been all those years ago.
“He was so nice. So different from the other men who were always so rude and disgusting. He was the first one to treat me like I was human. Maybe that blinded me, because I hung onto every one of his words like they might save me.”
My body threatened to crumble under the weight of my words, my ribs splitting apart one by one. I tucked my knees under my chin, wrapping my arms around my shins like that might keep me from falling apart.
“He was talking about this job opening he had for someone like me,” I murmured, sobs clawing their way up my throat. “He said that I wouldn’t have to worry about money anymore, and I could even get my sister through school if I worked hard enough. He said that I’d be a hit with his customers.”
Realization began to dawn on Reid’s face, and I swore in that moment that nothing had ever scared me more. If she asked me to leave, if she told me she didn’t want to hear any more of this story, ofmystory…
Fresh tears clung to my lashes, blurring my vision.
But she didn’t say anything. She waited.
“Needless to say.” I chuckled in self-deprecation. “He was right. And it was hell.”
I’d never admitted it out loud to anyone, not even to myself. Not even in the darkness of night when no one else would be around to hear it.
“You asked who Donnie is,” I confessed, my fingernails scarring small crescents into the icy skin of my arms. “He was my employer, and I worked as a prostitute.”
There.
I’d said it.
