Page 113 of Rescuing Barbi


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“I don’t bite... unless you want me to.”

“I doubt that.” A bitter laugh escapes my lips before I can stop it. “Move on to the next John, and leave me alone.”

“My boss won’t be happy if I don’t make you feel good.” Silvie’s eyes flick towards her pimp hovering nearby, watching our exchange like a hawk.

“Your boss can go to hell.” I down the rest of my drink in one gulp.

“If I don’t bring in some money tonight, my boss is going to be pissed.” Her hand falls back to her side. For a moment, she drops the seductive façade.

The desperation in her voice strikes a chord within me, stirring up an unfamiliar protective instinct. I can’t save myself from the darkness that haunts me, but perhaps I can spare this woman some measure of pain.

“Look, it’s not going to happen.” I meet her gaze for the first time. “I’m not interested in what you’re offering.”

She cocks her head and then her eyes light up in understanding. “You prefer men?” Silvie asks gently, having picked up on the subtle cues others might miss.

“Among other things.” I reluctantly admit. My eyes shift away, haunted by my demons.

“Okay.” Her voice shakes, her vulnerability a sharp stab to my useless heart. “Can we talk? If I go back without… I’ll be in trouble.”

“Fine.” I relent, seeing the fear in her eyes and recognizing it as a reflection of my own demons. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Tell me about yourself.” Silvie slides onto the barstool beside me.

“Darkness.” I keep my voice low, as if confessing a terrible secret. “The kind that lives inside me, twisting and gnawing at my soul until I can’t stand it anymore. The kind that makes me question whether there’s any good left in me.”

“Everybody has darkness in them.” Silvie’s reply is soft. Her hand briefly touches my arm in a gesture of comfort. “It’s what we do with it, how we choose to overcome it, that defines who we are.”

“I’ll pay for your time, but don’t touch me.” I withdraw from her touch as if stung.

“Fair enough.” Silvie sighs, a tentative smile curving her lips as she tucks a strand of dirty blonde hair behind her ear.

“Is that what you tell yourself? How we choose to overcome our darkness defines who we are?” Bitterness creeps into my voice. “Does that justify what you do? Selling your body for the likes of him?” I gesture toward her pimp.

“It’s what keeps me going.” Her admission hits me strangely. “Every day, I fight against the shadows and every night, I hope for a brighter tomorrow.”

“Maybe we’re not so different after all.”

As we sit there, sharing our pain amidst the cacophony of drunken revelry around us, something shifts within me. A flicker of hope? Perhaps. It’s hard to say. Or maybe it’s simply the realization, that even in the darkest corners of the world, there are still those who understand the struggle against the demons within.

* * *

Silvie launchesinto a story about a childhood adventure gone awry. Her words paint vivid images of laughter and innocence, a stark contrast to the darkness that shrouds her now.

She draws me into her tale, the warmth of her memories seeping into my own battered soul. The weight of my past crimes gradually recedes, replaced by the bittersweet ache of loss and a yearning for the simpler times she evokes. She reminds me, in some ways, of my younger sister, Piper. The little scrap of a girl I left behind when I took to the streets. I wonder what she’s doing now?

Where did life take her?

For a moment, I allow myself to forget the shadows that haunt me—to believe redemption might still be within reach.

“Thank you.” My voice cracks with an intensity of emotion threatening to spill over. “For sharing that with me.”

“Everyone needs a break from their demons.” Silvie’s eyes fill with understanding. “Even if it’s just for a little while. You don’t have to let the darkness win, you know. There’s always time to change, to be better.”

I clench my jaw, as the weight of her words bears down on me. She makes me see her raw vulnerability as she shares her struggles. But redemption? That isn’t something I can fathom.

Not for me.

She takes my hand in hers. This time, I don’t pull away. Her touch is warm and soft, offering solace to my tormented soul.

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