The HUSH Series: (HUSH, HUSHED and JANE.)

by Sandra Raine

I had to secretly admit that a spark of jealousy between Jenna and Mr. Church did nip at my ego, but then I had to remind myself of my place and why I was here in Vegas. I was here to "work" not fall in love, or contemplate escaping however, suicide did cross my mind. Even screaming inside the restaurant was tempting but I didn't. Because I liked Mr. Church and respected the idea that he was making an attempt to treat me, Jenna and Chloe like human beings rather than animals made it that much harder to bite the hand that was trying to feed us. So in the end I shrugged off those emotions and took my seat in a booth we were all escorted to by a pretty petite waitress. As I sat down I couldn't help but to notice that the waitress had the face of a showgirl but not the body which explained her profession although I did love her plush bleach blond mane and pink lipstick.

  I wasn't the only one who had taken a liking to our waitress - from the corner of my eye I caught Mr. Church eyeing her pretty face and flirting with her pretty smile as he ordered us a round of sodas. The waitress returned his smile and strolled off while Mr. Church leaned across the table and pulled the ashtray to him. And I hadn't noticed it before but he was wearing a wedding band which suddenly, and unconsciously, forced me to blurt out: "You're married?" Both Jenna and Chloe stared at me appallingly while Mr. Church merely grinned and lit his cigarette. "I'm sorry," I fretted to Mr. Church who ignored me for a moment. I then watched in apprehension as he extinguished his match then dragged on his cigarette. Once the first plume of smoke escaped his soft spoken mouth, he turned to Jenna and Chloe who were both sitting opposite of Mr. Church and just across from me.

  "Could you girls please give us a minute," he then politely said to them. Jenna and Chloe then exchanged confused looks at one another prior to settling that same confusion back onto Mr. Church. "There's a couple of vacant stools at the end of that counter there." He said, gesturing toward the diner's counter just across from our booth. "When I'm done, I'll summon you two back over." Jenna and Chloe both nodded in unison and slid out of the booth. "Thank you," he then mustered.

  As Jenna and Chloe quietly took their seats at the counter I couldn't help but to nervously stir in mine. Once Mr. Church was satisfied with Jenna and Chloe's uncanny ability to follow orders I realized my disobedience, if not careful, was going to be my downfall. . .with him.

  "The rules were very simple, Diamond," Mr. Church casually scolded as I'd come to realize he had had a conversation with Justin. "Why would you jeopardize those rules?" He quested. And since I really didn't have an answer for him I said nothing. Instead, I bowed my head in shame for not listening. "Come sit by me," Mr. Church then requested after he saw that I couldn't answer him. I stiffened a nod and slowly scooted myself closer to him. "That's close enough," he said 'cause I was no more but a few inches from literally sitting on his lap. My stomach fluttered on the very thought of just sitting on Mr. Church's lap, my arm wrapped snug around his smooth neck while his strong arms held my body close to his. My heart kicked up a notch. My palms started to sweat. A very nervous girl I was. And it was painfully obvious that I was head over heels for a man who was very well twenty years older than me.

  Mr. Church draped an arm over the booth's head rest while my nostrils caught a whiff of his expensive cologne which seemed to magically repeal the cigarette smoke from him. "Sit up straight, Diamond," he quickly, but politely, ordered. I obliged without hesitancy with the waitress now settling our sodas onto the table. "Thanks, doll." Mr. Church winked at the waitress.

  "You're welcome, sweetie." the waitress winked back, placing a stack of menus in the center of our table. "Shall I give you folks a few?"

  Mr. Church nodded. "Five, please."

  "Sure," the waitress said glancing down at her watch as she walked away.

  "Thirsty?" Mr. Church smirked.

  I shook my head. "Not really."

  "Hungry?"

  "No."

  Mr. Church chuckled and put out the butt end of his cigarette in the ashtray. He picked up his glass of soda and took a stiff drink as if he was sipping Cognac, or something. I could tell he wasn't used to drinking soda.

  Mr. Church then settled the glass back down onto the table but doesn't let go. I gazed at his fingers, particularly his thumb 'cause it swept back and forth against the glass; his thumb nonchalantly brushing away the cool sweat, and suddenly I had a vision of Mr. Church's thumb caressing my lips. I suddenly caught my breath while the inner of my thighs pinched together 'cause I was shocked on the way I was beginning to feel about Mr. Church; feelings that weren't meant to be felt, and especially not for men who prostituted girls to fund their lavish lifestyles as with Mr. Church with his big Escalade and expensive cologne and snobbish aura. Girls like myself who are strictly prostituted for commodity and greed and who aren't supposed to have feelings for their pimps. . .Then Dominic crossed my mind, and suddenly I was missing him terribly; missing that true love we once shared before he betrayed me. That same love now shifting rapidly toward Mr. Church. I assumed the Devil was laughing right about now. I mean, to have one of God's Angels falling in love with one of his Demons?. . .Blasphemous. God, how I wished the booth would open up and swallow me in.

  "It's alright to eat and drink. There's no work for tonight." Mr. Church said. I glanced up at Mr. Church only to find that he was already looking at me. "I'm well aware of Dominic's Anal Golden Rule. And to be quite honest with you, I don't see the point really. Anal sex is pointless. It's dirty. It's like playing Russian-fucking-roulette! Sooner or later your dick is going to meet that bullet, and well. . ." he chuckled seriously, "what the fuck do I know, huh? I mean, I'm just a man who enjoys having a clean cock."

  Chapter 41

  It was just after six when Jenna, Chloe and I trailed Mr. Church into the lobby of the Mandalay Bay hotel where Justin and Josh were already waiting for us. After a few words were exchanged between Justin, Josh and Mr. Church we were then handed a pink duffle bag each and a piece of luggage to carry. After, we rode up the elevator with Justin headed to the 31st floor while Josh and Mr. Church rode up on a separate elevator.

  On the 31st floor, we headed left and down an intimately lit corridor until we came across our hotel room and walked in. And before either of our luggage was even settled on the floor, Justin unexpectedly yanked Jenna into the nearest room and slammed the door. Then my heart skipped a dreadful beat when Chloe and I heard this hard slap then a scream surfacing from the room. And it was enough to make us both understand what was exactly going on in that room: Justin was beating on Jenna for talking. The door to the hotel room then unexpectedly swung open causing me and Chloe to flinch within our frozen selves while the apprehension in our eyes faltered to Josh then onto Mr. Church then back onto Josh.

  "Fuck!" Mr. Church spat the second he heard the beating. He quickly left his stance and crossed to the room in hastened steps before flinging the door wide open. "Goddamn it, Justin! You're fucking up her face!"

  "I ain't fuckin' up nothin' here, bro. Just takin' care of a little business." he retorted, slapping Jenna for like the fifth time.

  "You'll get your chance, bro, but now's not the time. We have business tomorrow and there's no way these high rollers are going to pay for your gratifications!"

  "She talks a lot."

  "They all do."

  Then a contemplating silence.

  Mr. Church kept firm to his words and to his place at the door. Justin eventually stops beating on Jenna. He then stormed out of the room in the same hastened steps as Mr. Church's previous ones.

  "You girls get in here and tend to Jenna." Mr. Church ordered quickly. "There should be some first-aid somewhere 'round here." he then grumbled as we both rushed past him and into the room. And the room was actually a bathroom but without the bathtub. I noticed it was quite spacious and delicately bright but then it automatically dimmed the moment we spotted Jenna cowering by the sink in tears of distraught.

  Chloe was fast at Jenna's side 'cause there was a good amount of blood trickling out of her mouth. Me, I took on th
e task of searching the bathroom cabinets in vain for any kind of First-Aid; my hands fumbling nervously with toiletries and other stuff, and with nothing resembling First-Aid.

  After about a gut-wrenching minute or so I stopped tearing the bathroom apart and faced Mr. Church hesitantly. I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head in utter defeat.

  "There's none." I mumbled 'cause I didn't want Justin to hear me talking then give me a beating for it. Mr. Church says nothing. He just nodded and casually crossed to Jenna. He grasped both sides of her pretty face into the smooth, and uncalloused of his hands. He then studied her face for a moment which was now a sweltering red from the beating. He ran a thumb - the same thumb I fantasized about - across her trembling lips, smearing the blood slightly.

  "It's just a small cut," he said indirectly. "Nothing a little salt and water can't handle. As for the redness. . .give her a cool wet towel every few minutes, see if that helps."

  After Chloe and I tended to Jenna and patched her up some, the three of us were then shown to our bedroom, and unfortunately, the only bedroom in the hotel room. Pft! Such accommodations! my mind sassed.

  The room was vividly warm, and spacious with floor-to-ceiling windows providing a breath taking view of Vegas I had never seen before in my life! From a distance, and just beyond the Strip, the sun was starting to set as Vegas's bright lights slowly began to pave the way for a night of gambling, partying, and sin, and unfortunately I was all but gambling and partying. My heart sank, and I left the window feeling uneasy as opposed to comforted.

  I settled my borrowed luggage onto the edge of the bed just as Jenna was settling in for the night. I couldn't help but to notice how she, too, curled into a fetal position and wept as I usually did. I ignored the luggage and settled them onto the floor beside the bed and focus my attention on Jenna instead. I crawled onto the bed and curled up behind her and lost myself within the dull of her black hair which I guessed shined bright at one point before all this tragedy and misfortune. Jenna whimpered softly, pulling me from my thoughts of a naïve fourteen-year-old making that one mistake of talking to a complete stranger, to answer questions that needn't be answered 'cause they didn't exist. Jenna, as with many girls, just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time simply because it was her destiny.

  I slid one arm beneath her neck and the other over her waist and listened to her cry. It didn't take long for Chloe to lie down beside us, to share in the embrace, to loose ourselves within the shame of our grievances while hoping for a better life down the road.

  Two hours later as Chloe was in the master bath just adjacent to our one bedroom, I took the liberty of lounging on the sofa in the sitting area of the room watching TV in the lowest volume possible that is until Mr. Church unexpectedly strolled around from behind the partition which separated the bedroom from the sitting area. I immediately clicked off the TV and sat up straight on the leather sofa to give Mr. Church my undivided attention.

  "Where's Chloe?" he asked.

  "Bathroom," I mumbled, pointing toward the direction of the bathroom just off to the left of the TV.

  "Well," he began to say but trailed off when he glimpsed Chloe walking out of the bathroom.

  "Oh, God. . .I'm. . .I'm sorry, Mr. Church, I just couldn't hold. . .hold it." Chloe stammered apologetically, and quite nervously.

  "It's alright." He said politely. "Why don't you two come sit in the living room."

  "You girls hungry?" Mr. Church asked once Chloe and me were seated uncomfortably in the living room. Chloe nodded and I shook my head. Mr. Church said nothing and picked up the phone and ordered room service.

  As room service arrived, Mr. Church got up from the living room and disappeared into the bedroom. He then reappeared several minutes later with Jenna. The four of us snacked in silence and watched TV 'till it was time to turn in.

  But by the time we turned in for the night, I found I wasn't tired. I instead tossed and turned, turned and tossed, and finally I just gave up and got up and sat there and stared into the darkness thinking about my family, about Bree, particularly Bree getting lost in a city where there was nothing to do BUT to get lost within the incessant sea of people, beneath the incessant sea of men paying for sex. I shivered.

  Then my thoughts settled on Dominic, and I was missing him terribly. Then I thought about Justin and Josh who were down there somewhere on the Strip, gambling and blowing money they didn't deserve. Then I thought about Mr. Church who had been put in charge of babysitting us whores for the entire night in which I didn't mind. Mr. Church was polite. Easy going. Understanding. Humane. And I liked him very much. I liked looking at him. I liked being around him. I liked the way he smelled. I liked that he liked us girls.

  I slowly rose to my feet and stepped toward one of the floor length windows and gently eased back one of the accompanying floor length curtains to get a better glimpse of the Strip. I folded my arms against my chest, and rested my head against the window, and lost myself within the bright lights wishing I were down there strolling around, taking in all the sights and sounds and smells of good times being had. I meant to relish those thoughts but my thoughts were suddenly interrupted when I scented his presence. My stomach fluttered. I turned around nervously: Mr. Church was standing at the doorway. He glanced at me before turning his attention to the bed and gazed at Chloe and Jenna as they slept. A second later, he gestured me out of the bedroom. I held my breath and followed him out.

  "Can't sleep?" Mr. Church assumed questionably as he was closing the bedroom door behind us. I shook my head. "Why?" he pried, sounding a bit curious. He raised a hand toward my face and I couldn't help but to tense up. Mr. Church chuckled. "Relax," he reassured moving a strand of hair away from my eye. I took a deep, long breath before I gathered up enough courage to look up at him. His towering presence was starting to choke me - we were dangerously close to one another. One step forward and we would literally be pressed up against one another.

  "Um. . .guess I'm afraid to wake up and find someone on top of me."

  "Hmm," Mr. Church pondered. And he must've sensed I was having a hard time breathing, too, 'cause he stepped back and folded his arms against his chest to give us some distance. His biceps flexed, and I held my breath again. And for some strange reason I nodded, too. "Why are you nodding?" he mused.

  I bit my lower lip and shrugged my shoulders. "A reflex, I guess."

  "That's a lot of guesses, don't you think?" He teased. I nodded once more. Mr. Church glanced down at his silver and gold trim watch; the same arm which housed the hand that housed the thick gold wedding band; a band sparsely laced in diamonds. "It's really late. Two-thirty late." he said.

  "I'm used to working late. I guess that's why I can't sleep."

  "Occupational hazard?"

  "I guess." I said suddenly looking away toward the direction of the living room. I saw a flicker of a bright light.

  "I'm watching TV." Mr. Church answered voluntarily.

  I looked back up at him. "You. . .you can't sleep?" I staggered 'cause I wasn't used to asking my pimps, well in this case, an associated pimp, questions.

  "Something like that," he muttered, holding my gaze. "You shouldn't be here. You should be in bed."

  "You took me out of the room. Besides, shouldn't you be in bed?"

  "Diamond - "

  "It's Jane. Call me Jane."

  "You need to go back in your room. . .get some sleep."

  "No. Why are you here?"

  "Diamond - "

  "It's Jane. I told you, call me Jane."

  "Go back in the room."

  "No! I want to know why you're here. . .especially when you're married?"

  Mr. Church abruptly stepped into me and grabbed me firm by the shoulders and shoved me up against the wall. I could feel the heat off his sensual breath against my flustered left cheek. His body then grazed mine, and I could've sworn I felt an erection playing touch and go against my pelvis forcing me to tense up 'cause it occurred to me that this was how
true lover's played in the real world.

  "I let you get away asking me the first time," he seethed calmly, yet casually, "but now it's becoming a habit, don't you think?" Mr. Church eased himself from me, opened the bedroom door, and I wasted no time walking through it.

  Chapter 42

  I was standing in front of a bathroom's mirror in a half-way decent motel room just a couple of blocks shy off the Strip the following afternoon. I had just finished applying the last of my make-up when I heard the motel room door open. I froze in my stance for a second before reminding myself that I had a job to do, and that it was their job to just simply walk in.

  "I'll be there in a minute," I said over my shoulder while giving the bathroom door a slight push for a bit of privacy. I rummaged through the cosmetic bag Tanya had packed for me for the vial of coke Josh slipped me prior to dropping me off for the rest of the day. Jenna, who went by the given name "Gypsy" 'cause of her moving around so much, and Chloe, who went by the given name "Crystal" 'cause of her vividly blue eyes, were also dropped off but set up in different motel rooms.

  I opened the vial and reached for the compact mirror. I drew up a couple of lines and spaced them apart with a razor blade. With a rolled dollar bill I snorted the lines and waited patiently for that kick. I picked up the mirror and blew off the white debris. I picked up the vial, replaced its lid, and that's when he demanded, "How long you've been doing coke?" Mr. Church was standing at the door looking mildly disturbed while I looked mildly indifferent, particularly toward his obvious feelings over my snorting coke. I mean, his disturbance was nothing compared to the pain I was about to feel once these bastards grabbed a hold of me.

  I ignored Mr. Church and put the vial back in the cosmetics case. But with Mr. Church refusing to let his issue go, snatched the case from my hands. He abruptly zipped open the zipper and retrieved the vial and squeezed it hard in his hand. And if he were a superhero he would have easily crushed the vial into pieces with just a couple of fingers.