She instantly produced five lines of white powder on the coffee table. The first four disappeared in quick succession, and the alpha of the group, a curvy woman in a revealing dark green dress, held out a small metal straw for Abby.
As the four women watched her, Abby thought, Why the hell not?
Rick was watching from a corner of the room with one of his buddies and laughed.
His friend punched him in the shoulder. “You’re lettin’ your girl chill with those whores?”
“Those aren’t just whores, bro, that’s some high-end tail over there. Those bitches pull a couple g’s a night!”
“Well, Abby’s better lookin’ than any of them. You better not let them recruit her.”
Rick laughed. “Depends. You think I’d get a cut?”
* * *
The ladies Abby met that night in the penthouse did not recruit her, though after getting a taste of the life they led, a lost, broke, and confused Abby, with a little nudge from Rick, figured she could make some decent money wearing a skimpy dress and serving cocktails at the right places.
Rick introduced her to a manager at his favorite casino on the Strip, and that very night she found herself bringing drinks to patrons who were savvy enough to find the hidden bar between floors at the newest and swankiest Vegas high-rise. Abby, being exceptionally young and beautiful, was instantly the most popular girl in the bar. This made for great tips, but also made her draw the ire of the other girls.
She had been serving drinks for about a month when a stocky Latino who introduced himself as Manny sat down on a cushy chair.
“I haven’t seen you around here before,” he said to Abby when she came over to take his order.
Abby flashed her friendliest smile. “I’m new here.”
“New here, or new in town?”
“Both.”
“Where are you living?”
“I’m staying with friends.” In reality, she was staying in a crappy hotel room with Rick, way off the Strip.
Manny nodded, making no effort to conceal that he was undressing her with his eyes. “How much do you make a night?”
“Depends on how much a man wants to impress me.”
“Come on, how much?”
“A big spender might leave a few hundred in tips,” she said hesitantly, unsure where this was going.
Unimpressed, he let out a tsk, tsk sound and handed her his card. “You’re the most beautiful girl in this place, you know that, right? I run a club up by Old Vegas. You want to make some real money, you come see me.”
She laughed him off, pushing his hand away. “No thanks. I’m not interested in having sex with random guys for money.”
“No, not a girl like you.” Manny assessed her up and down again, “You don’t have to do that. You’ll rake in over a grand a night just for letting them look at you.” He could tell Abby was confused, so he clarified, “Stripping.”
She shook her head. “I’m not doing that either, thanks.”
“Take my card anyway, and think about it. I can give you a good job and a place to stay until you get on your feet.” He folded his card into her hand, wrapped in a one-hundred dollar bill.
As she watched him leave, she did think about it. A thousand dollars a night? Just to look at me? Abby looked at the card in her hand. She was tired of supporting Rick. The story here was the same as it was in California. She kept a roof over his head and food in the fridge, and he contributed almost nothing. A thousand dollars a night and a place to stay was certainly an inviting proposition. She figured it couldn’t hurt to at least check out the place.
However, it did hurt. The place looked like a dump. It was in the general vicinity of Old Vegas, but nowhere near the action. It was in a sketchy section of what was fundamentally a sketchy city – but the promise of money drew her in.
It was good the first month or so. Then Manny told her about the expenses she had to cover. She had to tip out the bar staff that kept everyone drunk, as well as the bouncers who kept grabby customers at bay and the limo drivers who brought customers in from the Strip – mostly whatever groups of guys they found wandering the streets and talked into hopping in the limo.
Then Manny told her if she was going to continue to stay in the apartment with the other girls, she had to contribute to the rent. After everyone took their cut, she found herself with less in her pocket than she had made waiting tables, but now she was stuck.
The final part of Manny’s strategy clicked into place when the other girls reintroduced Abby to the white powder that they all used to forget their current lot in life. It wasn’t as good as what the high-class escorts had shared with Abby her first night in the city, but it did the trick.
She had thought about packing up and leaving, but couldn’t ever put enough together for airfare. Besides, where would she go? With her parents dead, her sister estranged, and anyone who ever had been a friend in the rearview mirror, Abby had no place to run.
By her second New Year’s in Vegas, Abby found herself grinding against a polished brass pole without even remembering that it had been a year ago today that she arrived in Sin City for the first time. Truth be told, she barely remembered last night, never mind last year.
Had any of her former friends or family walked in, they wouldn’t have recognized her. She was too skinny, but somehow managed to keep her tits despite the twenty pounds she had lost over the past year. Fortunately, her face was still undeniably beautiful, despite its thinned-out appearance, and her amber eyes were as captivating as ever. Those couple of assets at least kept the tips coming in. Otherwise, after ten months working in this shithole, she took most of her meals through a straw up her nose and looked every bit the part.
Rick had drifted in and out of her life for a couple of months. He liked to hang out at the club occasionally, which was usually the only place that she saw him. He told Abby it was to keep an eye on her, but it seemed that he liked to keep his eyes on the other girls, too. One night Rick went back into the girl’s dressing room to see Abby. She wasn’t in yet, but some of the other girls were. When Abby walked in, she found him with his hands on one of the girls.
Abby flipped out and went after him, harmlessly clubbing his chest and back with her clenched fists. Rick laughed it off, which enraged Abby even more and she began screaming at him. This got Manny’s attention from out in the club, and brought him running back into the dressing room.
“What the hell is going on back here?”
Abby pointed at Rick, “This piece of shit... I walk in here, and he’s got his hands all over Candy!”
Manny glared at Rick, “What the hell are you doing back here anyway? I told you before, stay outta here.”
“But...” Rick started.
“But nothing,” Manny rubbed his chin to compose himself. “All these girls, they work for me. If you get them pissed off, the customers aren’t gonna be happy, and if the customers aren’t happy, you’re costing me money.”
Rick was about to respond, but thought better of it and just said, “Sorry Manny.”
“Don’t do it again. If I catch you back here again, I’m gonna break something. You got me?”
“I got you Manny.”
“Good, now get the fuck outta here.”
Abby flipped Rick the finger as he sulked out the door.
When Abby took the stage, there was Rick sitting at the bar, smiling ear to ear. Abby was sick of the smug look on his face. She decided that she’d had enough of Rick, and with Manny already running hot, she thought she might be able to get rid of him for good.
She slid down off the stage onto the lap of a good-looking businessman. She knew that Rick was watching from his seat at the bar. Abby led the man by his collar into the back room with the private booths and picked one that gave her a view of Rick through the doorway. She was extra nice to the man, and gave him the private show of his life, all the while staring straight at Rick.
This pissed him off to no end, and Abby could tell he wa
s squirming in his seat. He managed to keep his composure for a little while. Then Abby broke him. She clearly and gratuitously reached down and slipped her hand down the front of the man’s pants, and mouthed the words Fuck You to Rick, then began kissing the man’s neck.
Rick lost it. He ran from the bar and through the open curtained doorway, grabbed Abby, and threw her off the man. A fight instantly broke out, and the bouncers just as instantly descended on the scene and dragged the two men apart.
The businessman, in his clean black suit and striped button down shirt, was profusely apologized to and enjoyed the rest of the night on the club’s dime. Rick, on the other hand, was dragged out the back door into the ally, where Manny’s knee swiftly met his crotch. Two bouncers, one on each side, grabbed onto Rick’s shoulders to keep him from falling to the ground.
As Rick was hunched over, Manny grabbed him by the collar and brought his face close, “What the hell was that in there?”
“I’m sorry Manny, it’s just, she was trying to get to me and she did.”
“What’s your problem? Why are you hanging around here? I warned you.”
“I’m sorry Manny, it’s tough watching your girl with other guys, I just... I just snapped. It won’t happen again.”
“Your girl isn’t with other guys. In this club, Abby’s not your girl, she’s my girl, like every other piece of ass in there.” Manny thought a second, “You’re right, Rick, it won’t happen again.” He nodded to the bouncer on the right, who grasped Rick’s right arm and held it up.
Rick was confused, “What are you doing?”
While the bouncers held Rick still, Manny grasped his thumb in his meaty palm, and bent it backwards until it snapped like the stem of a banana and Rick screamed out in agony.
“I warned you!” Manny yelled in his face. “I warned you! Now get the fuck out of here, and I swear if I ever see you in my club again I’ll break your fuckin’ legs, you got me?”
Rick nodded as tears streamed down his face and he blubbered like a child.
“Get him outta here before the customer’s hear him.”
The bouncers dragged Rick down the alley and threw him onto the sidewalk, where he stumbled down the street to find an emergency room.
That was the last time that Abby or anyone else at the club saw Rick. It was also the last day that Abby had a real clear memory of.
Every day was the same shitty day as the one before. She woke up in pain, feeling that today was the day she would die. The only thing that took the pain away was the same thing that caused it. The thing she craved more than anything. It was the same thing that drove her to let strangers feel her up while she buried their faces in her chest. It was the same thing that drove her to let them do more than that when she was either exceptionally broke or exceptionally high. That white powder turned her depression around and made the world a bearable place, at least for a little while.
The owner kept her and most of the other girls at a shitbox hotel in an alley behind the club. Dirty sheets that hadn’t been washed in years barely covered the mildew and fluid-stained mattresses where the girls passed out each night after huffing the bulk of their tips.
While she smiled and winked at the customers as she danced, Abby’s head hurt and she was looking forward to lying down on the flat limp bag that passed for a pillow.
That’s when she saw five one-hundred dollar bills laid out on the stage in front of her. Her eyes struggled to focus on the man who had laid them down. Abby commanded her eyes to look straight and focus, but it was a losing battle. Realistically, she didn’t care at all what he looked like. His money was green, and that was all that mattered.
She slid off the stage and directly onto his lap, putting her arms around his neck. He reached behind her and picked up the bills, folding them neatly, and sliding them into the string of her thong. In her mind, she leaned forward to whisper something flirty and clever in his ear. In reality, she fell into him and slurred, “I’m going to fuck you so good...” That was all the eloquence she could muster.
The man smiled without having understood what she said. “Let’s go someplace private.”
She led him to a private booth in the back room. On the way there, he flagged down a cocktail waitress and whispered something in her ear. The waitress seemed confused.
“Really?” she asked.
“Is that a problem?”
She smacked her gum. “Well, no, but...”
“Then do it,” he said, and sent her away.
Abby stood in the booth waiting for her man to follow, and when he sat down, she immediately straddled him. “Just tell me how you like it.” She burped and threw up in her mouth a little. Swallowing it back down, she smacked her lips and said, “Sorry,” as she started to grind against him.
He smiled and firmly placed his hands on her hips, stopping her, then lifting her slightly off his lap. “Have a seat a minute.” He nodded, indicating the chair next to him.
“It’s your dough, pal.” She collapsed into the seat.
They looked at each other for a moment. Between the dim light and the drug-fueled haze she was slowly coming out of, she couldn’t make out his features. She could see he had a good build and was significantly older than her. He stood up and took off his sport coat. “Here,” he said, putting it around her shoulders and covering her bare chest.
She smiled a bit uncomfortably, not sure what to think. “Um... thanks.”
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
Abby laughed. “Making a living, like everyone else. This your idea of small talk?”
“You don’t belong here. You’re better than these other girls. Prettier, too.”
“Sure thing, pal.” She attempted to stand on her wobbly legs. “You want a dance or not?”
“I already paid for your time. Sit down.” His voice was as firm as his grip around her hips had been. She sat as the waitress came over with two espressos and a large glass of water. The man leaned forward and said, “Excuse me,” before he opened the sport coat Abby was wearing and took a packet from the inside pocket before covering her up again. He ripped open the packet and dropped two tablets into the water, which immediately began to fizz. He held it up for her. “Drink this.”
She furrowed her brow. “Fuck you, pal, I’m not letting you drug me.”
He raised the glass to his lips and took a swig, “It’s not gonna hurt you. Besides, I paid for you. I don’t have to drug you. Remember?”
Abby shrugged. What’s the worst that could happen? Whether this guy drugged her or paid for her, she would likely wake up in the morning with no recollection of the night before, probably having fucked a random stranger and feeling like her head was a melon bursting at the seams. Deciding that his drug might at least make her standard morning better, she downed the water as he sipped his espresso. When she was done, he gestured to her espresso, which she took and began to sip.
“So, you paid me five bills on New Year’s Eve because you wanted to have coffee?”
“I want to help you. I’ve been here before, but we’ve never talked.”
She looked at him closely. Her focus was better. He was a good-looking man with beautiful eyes, but she had seen so many faces come and go; he was one of thousands and didn’t look the least bit familiar.
“And how are you going to help me?” she asked.
“You can do better. What’s your name?”
“Lacey.” She smiled weakly.
He returned her grin. “OK, Lacey, let me be straight. I’d like you to give this up and spend some time with me. I do well for myself, and I’ll take care of you.”
She laughed. She’d heard it all before. Two or three times a night. So much so that it was just background noise. The men thought they should say something like that; the ones with a soul anyway. Hell, with enough drinks in them, a few of them probably even meant it. Once they get home to their wives and families, though, Abby became just another pleasurable Vegas memory.
S
he stood up, shot the remainder of the espresso, and slid his coat off her shoulders to reveal her perfect breasts in the dim light. “You seem like a nice enough guy, but I don’t need saving. I can take care of myself just fine.” She leaned over and kissed him gently on the cheek and whispered. “Thanks for the coffee.”
Abby turned and walked back toward the stage. He called from behind her, “Think about it! You’ll come around.”
She waved over her head without turning around. Something about him struck her as different. She instantly wanted to smack herself for even having that thought. He wasn’t different. None of them were.
From the stage, she watched as he stopped by the door on the way out to speak with the club manager, Manny. Manny laughed, though the customer was not laughing. That’s when Manny stopped laughing, suddenly looked angry and appeared to threaten the man. The man proceeded to take a fistful of Manny’s shirt and leaned into him, saying something into his ear. As one of the bouncers closed in, he released Manny’s shirt and left, without anyone laying a finger on him.
Manny turned to face the stage and saw Abby looking at him. She turned away as he turned to the bouncer and began a very animated conversation that went on until Abby left the stage
What was that all about? she wondered.
18
ABBY FOUND OUT what that conversation was about when she arrived for her shift the following afternoon and saw Manny waiting at the door for her. He pulled her to the side as soon as she walked in, and he explained that she no longer worked at the club.
She was confused, but immediately angry. Her first thought was that she needed cash and a place to stay. Without her job at the club, she had neither. “That’s bullshit! What did I do?”
“You didn’t do anything Abby. You remember your client last night?”
“I had a lot of clients last night. Did someone complain?”
“No, no one complained. The blond-haired guy, he bought you a coffee or something?”
It was coming back slowly. “Yeah, what about him? He said something about wanting me to run away with him or something. I told him to take a hike. Did he bitch about me, ‘cause I didn’t do anything out of line, I swear.”
Escape, the Complete Trilogy Page 36
