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There is no rhyme or reason when the girl will come to take some food. Sometimes it’s during the day, and sometimes it’s at night. I’m anxious to see if she comes today. A few nights ago, when I almost caught her, she looked as though she wanted to take my offer for help. But after a brief moment of hesitation, something compelled her to run away. This morning when I came to the church, I decided to try something new. I set aside a box of food and clothes with a note, telling her they were for her to take, along with my contact information. I’m hoping this tactic will establish a line of trust and compassion. My ultimate goal is for her to come to me. There’s something about the girl that makes me believe God sent her my way for a reason.
My steps slow as I approach the room. No noises come from within, and the light is off. When I flick the switch, disappointment hits when I find the box in the same place I set it earlier. Looking around, everything looks the same as it was when I left it this morning.
Turning to leave, I flip the light switch and close the door behind me. I’ll check again before I leave for the night.
She hasn’t been back since that night, so I hope I didn’t frighten her off permanently.
Chapter 4
JERSEY
After clenching the belt of my long, black trench coat tight around my waist, I fluff up my hair then regard my reflection in the dirty mirror. I hate what I see. My normally long, straight, strawberry-blonde hair has been artfully piled on top of my head, which will show off my slender shoulders when I remove my coat. My make-up is thick but done so in a fashionable way. The silver, dangly earrings swish when I move my head. And my clothes underneath the coat are way more revealing than what I would normally wear. It’s all meant to seduce, and unfortunately, I know it’ll work. It has the other times I’ve gone out onto the street.
Smoothing my lips together to make sure my lipstick is still even, I turn away from the mirror. My stomach is already twisting into knots for what lies ahead. Mom and Dad would be so disgusted with me if they knew what I was getting ready to do.
My eyes slide over to the mattress where Sam is sitting with a book in his lap. He’s better than he was, but he hasn’t fully recovered from whatever stomach bug he had. The cut on his leg doesn’t look quite as angry either, which is a huge relief. Going to the hospital was the last resort, and I’m glad it’s looking like we may not have to.
I walk over to him and carefully get to my knees on the mattress beside his legs.
“Do you need anything before I go?” I ask.
He looks up from the book, and I tense when his eyes look all over my face and down to the coat I’m wearing. Sam’s far from stupid, but I like to think he hasn’t figured out what I’m doing when I leave at night in a trench coat covering me from my neck down to my ankles. He may not know exactly what, but I’m pretty sure he knows it’s more than what I’ve been telling him.
“No,” he says, looking back at his book. “I’m fine.”
He’s not fine, but he’s better than he was when he lived with Douglas Beckett and his rotten and twisted son Mark.
I slide the measly bag of food closer to the bed. I haven’t been back to the church since the night Father Adair almost caught me, and I’m not sure if I should chance going again. Which means I’ll have to figure out another way to get Sam and me food. We’re almost out, so I need to find that source soon.
“I’ll be back later tonight. Don’t worry if it gets late,” I tell him.
“Yeah, okay.”
The way he’s looking at me, like he wants to ask questions I don’t want to answer, has me quickly getting to my feet. Only a few more nights and I can get us out of here. What I do at night won’t matter anymore because I won’t be doing it once we leave.
I pat the pocket of my coat. “I’ve got my cell phone. Call if anything happens or you need me.”
One of the first things I bought when I could afford it was a prepaid cell phone for Sam. With me out at night and him being here by himself, I needed a way for him to get in touch with me if there was an emergency.
Sam looks back at his book and I leave. I don’t like leaving him here by himself. He’s only twelve, and while he’s mature enough to look after himself, this area isn’t completely safe. This is one of the few buildings around where the homeless don’t go too often, but someone might stumble across Sam, and who knows what they’ll do. I picked this room because it’s on the top floor, all the way down at the end. Any time I leave, I pray no one finds him.
The night air is humid when I leave Sam and our temporary home. Making my way down the street, I receive a few lingering glances as I pass by several people loitering on street corners. During this time of night in this part of town, there’s only two reasons a person is out. To score drugs or to sell their bodies for money.
Revulsion leaves a sour taste in my mouth because I’m here to sell my body. I need money fast, without leaving a trail, so this is my only choice. This will be the eighth time I’ve sold myself into the greedy hands of sick men. Each time I do, a little part of me withers away. The only thing I can do is hope I get those pieces back once Sam and I are away from this place.
I walk toward the corner I usually stand at but find it already occupied by two other scantily-clad women. Instead of confronting them and telling them they’re in my spot—something I’ve noticed is typical in this line of work—I cross the street. I don’t care where I’m at, so long as the man who approaches me has a fat wallet.
Once I’ve found a new spot, I untie the belt around my waist and remove my trench coat. Despite a slight breeze of warm air, goosebumps pop up on my arms. I feel way too exposed in the little black dress I’m wearing. But the more skin you show, the more men are willing to pay.
Draping my coat over my arm, I stand and nervously wait. Not much traffic comes at night. You can always tell when a car approaches and they’re looking for a warm body. They slowly creep along the street, staring out of their tinted windows, checking out the choices. When they see who they want, they pull up and roll down the window. It’s up to the girls to approach the vehicles.
A silver sedan turns the corner, and I hold my breath, secretly praying he passes by me. I always pray they pass by, even though I should be hoping for the opposite. I let out a little sigh of relief as the car slowly drives by, then pulls over to the two girls on my usual corner. I watch as they strut on their high heels and bend over to peer inside the car. The transaction doesn’t take long. A shiver races up my spine when both girls climb inside the front seat, and something tells me I dodged a bullet with that guy.
Fifteen minutes pass before I hear another vehicle. I hold my breath, my eyes flickering to the only other girl on this block. She’s about a hundred feet from me, standing dead center under a street lamp. A black SUV comes down the street in the opposite direction the sedan came from. They’re going to approach the other girl first, but it looks like they aren’t looking for action because their speed is too fast.
I turn away from the vehicle, already forgetting about it and looking for the next car. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the SUV slowing then swerving to the curb beside me. I turn to it when it comes to a stop, the window already halfway down. Inhaling a deep breath for courage, I slowly walk toward the vehicle. My hands sweat and my knees knock together, and I remind myself over and over again why I’m doing this. This is the only way to get Sam out of Silver Falls as quickly as possible.
I can’t see the driver of the SUV because they’re cast in shadows. Every time I do this, I take a chance with my life, but it’s worth it.
