by Voss, Deja
“You were not a grown woman. And now you’re in way over your head. But you don’t have to be. Not anymore. I’m going to help you. We’re all going to help you. All us Misfits.”
“My dad…” I trail off.
“He’ll get it.” He shrugs, and I’m having trouble believing him. It sounds ridiculous, but right this moment, I’m ok with pretending.
“You need to go to her,” I say sadly. “You can’t stay here tonight. I want you to, but you can’t.”
“I promise I won’t touch her. You know that, right?”
“If you do, she’s useless to us tomorrow. Just like I am. And you know what that means?”
“We’re fucked?”
“No, you’re fucked. You’re gonna have to shave that beard of yours and get yourself a mini skirt.”
He tucks me in under my sheets, under the big warm comforter, and kisses my lips once again. “I love you, E,” he says.
“I know,” I nod. “I love you, Brooks. Now get out of here.”
Sending him off to a hotel room with another woman doesn’t feel good but it feels right. Nobody needs to know anything yet. Nobody needs to know that every time I think I can’t love him any more than I have, than I do, I suddenly feel like I’m falling deeper, harder. I feel like we’re in this together now. I feel like the little part of me he’s always had is growing bigger and bigger. I feel like I want to give him everything. That we’re going to be an amazing team.
As I hear the door close behind him, my mind goes to a place where I almost don’t dare to let it. A vision of the future. A future where he is the president of my club and I’m the queen. Taking down my family’s rein. Stepping right over my soft brother and my hellish father.
It makes me feel guilty to have these thoughts. It makes me feel like a bad person. But as long as they stay fantasies, they can’t hurt anyone.
Even though fantasies that come true aren’t proving to work out so bad for me, either.
Fifteen Years Ago
“She’s much prettier in person than she is in pictures,” the man with the gold canine teeth says as I enter the room. Something about the way that he’s looking at me is exactly what my dad warned me about. Exactly what he told me he was protecting me from by making me live with my Aunt Mary this summer. “Looks like she’s grown up a little bit over the summer, too.” he laughs, reaching out for my breasts.
My Aunt Mary slaps away his hand. “Touching isn’t free, you know?”
“I’ll give you five thousand,” a fat older man with a gray receding hairline quips. I can tell by the suit he’s wearing and his gold wristwatch that he has money. “I’m not really into redheads.”
“Then why are you here?” My aunt scowls. “You’re wasting everyone’s time. I wouldn’t let you lick my geriatric snatch for five thousand.” My dad is just standing in the corner, his hands in his pockets, watching as my Aunt Mary runs this fucked-up horror show. I don’t know much about the details, and I’m not going to lie, five thousand bucks sounds like a lot of money to me. Granted, I don’t know what virginities go for these days, but I can think of a lot of things someone can do with 5k.
I have to think like this. It’s the only thing keeping me from getting sick right here in front of everyone. I have to make these little jokes in my mind, or I’m afraid I’ll crack. I’m just doing right by my club. By my family. I’m sure all the guys would want it this way. They would do anything to protect me, and now it’s my turn to keep them safe.
“Ten thousand,” another man offers. He has an accent that I’ve never heard before. Maybe he’s Indian? I wonder if he’s a sheik or something. What would someone from a faraway land want with a plain old freckle-faced ginger, though?
“Twenty,” the bald fat man says. I almost want him to win, because I have a feeling he’s in no shape to be having sex anyway. He looks like he could have a heart attack at any minute. The sheik, I think I could get over that in my mind, convincing myself that maybe he will fall in love with me and make me a princess or something. I could live in a castle on the beach with all my friends instead of a mansion on the mountain.
The only guy who really scares me is the one with the gold teeth. The one with the teardrop tattoo and the 1 percent patch on his cut. I know what that means. It means he’s like my people. It means he’s as bad and scary as the men who I grew up with. He kind of reminds me of my father, the way that he’s doing nothing to disguise the fact that his smile isn’t a friendly one. It’s pure evil.
“I’ll give you a hundred thousand. Cash. But we leave tonight. And I’m sharing her with my men when I’m done with her.”
“Well, there isn’t a pussy on this planet worth a hundred thousand,” the fat man says, standing up. “I could fuck my way through the entire Playboy Mansion for the rest of my life on that kind of cash. If you’ll excuse me.”
He walks out of the room, not even looking at me as he rounds the corner. I kind of want to beg him to come back. I want to tell him that I choose him. The lesser of the evils.
“I’m going to have to respectfully decline,” the Indian man says. “While you’re a beautiful girl, Esther, and I’m sure you’re worth every penny, without documentation, I can’t make such a huge investment.”
“I’ll get you some documentation,” I stammer. I don’t know how, or what that even means, but dammit, I don’t want to be shared by this monster and his crew.
“Good luck to you,” he says, bowing to me. He leaves the kitchen.
My heart is racing.
“You got the cash?” my dad asks.
The man opens up his leather backpack, dumping a stack of bundled hundred-dollar bills on the kitchen table. “There’s even a little extra in there for granny. Finder’s fee.”
The way she’s rubbing his back like he’s her son, almost lovingly, makes me want to hurl. I should run away. I should scream. All I can do is blink.
“Let’s go, Esther. I can’t wait to see you up on that stage, dancing in our strip club. You’re gonna be a star, sweetie.” He stands up and grabs me by the shoulder, and his touch feels like it’s burning a hole in my skin.
“She rides with me,” my father says.
“What, you wanna stick around and see the show or something, ya sick fuck? Come on, I know you’re in a jam. What the hell do you care? One less mouth to feed. She’ll look really pretty with a Tiger’s tattoo across her hips.”
“I just need to have one last talk with her. You know, father to daughter. It’ll make me feel better.” This is starting to sound scarier by the minute. I’d rather die than wear another club’s logo on my body. I can’t believe my own family is doing this to me.
“Fine. Do what you gotta do to make it right with you and the man in the sky. But we leave now.” He stands up from the table and my Aunt Mary escorts him to the front door. I start crying, tears rolling down my cheeks, looking around the room for a knife that I can jam into my jugular. My father hugs me tight, but I just slap at his chest, his touch making me sick.
“It’s not every day that a plan comes together perfectly,” my Aunt Mary laughs. “Oh, Esther, quit with the hysterics.”
“I don’t wanna be a Tiger. Those guys are going to hurt me,” I cry.
“Honey, no they’re not,” my dad says. “This… this is all a show. Now don’t get me wrong; you might have to sleep with that man. You might have to get up on his stage and dance and pretend like you like it. But you’re just going to be the distraction.”
“The distraction?”
“We need Tiny and his men distracted while we infiltrate their clubhouse. Hopefully it won’t take longer than a day or two. I figured this is a win-win. We get you in there, we get paid, and we get the intel that we need.”
“So you’ve been setting this up for months now?” I stammer. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“Years, Esther. This shit goes way back. Back before Tanner died. We’ve always known that you were going to save our club.”
“Can I have one of those?” I ask, pointing to the piles of cash on the table. “I think I want to buy a pony when all this is over.”
“Don’t you think you’re too old for a pony?” my dad asks me. “Wouldn’t you rather have a motorcycle?”
“Really?” I ask. He told me my whole life that it wasn’t proper for me to have one. He told me that only the boys should drive and that girls belonged in the back.
“You wanna see your birthday surprise?” my Aunt Mary smiles.
I really thought she set me up, that this was supposed to be my surprise. We walk out to the garage and there’s this beautiful Harley Road King, off-white, parked in the garage. There are black roses painted all over the tank, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
It almost distracts me from the fact that later tonight, I’m not going to be a virgin anymore. Later tonight, I’m going to be a plaything for a guy named Tiny and his friends. But if my dad says it’s right, if Tanner, Brooks’s dad, said it was right, if my Aunt Mary thinks it’s right, and I’m going to be helping to defend the Misfits way of life, then by all means. I’ll just put on a happy face and go to a place where Brooks and I are riding our motorcycles through the mountains, side by side. A place I hope to get back to really soon.
Chapter 23
Esther:
I pace down the hall of the hotel, thermos of coffee in one hand, my purse in the other. It’s time to get to work, and if Morgan did really spend last night in a pill-induced coma, she’s gonna need more than a little bit of paint on her barn.
I, on the other hand, slept pretty amazingly. I woke up early and enjoyed my coffee while I curled my hair. My make-up is dark, smoky, and totally inappropriate for this time of day. The little black dress that I can fold up and fit into my handbag clings tight to my body and accentuates my curves in the best possible ways. I know I look hot. I look like a high-end call girl, minus the fact that my stilettos are slung over my shoulder. Those can wait.
I’m sure everyone staying on this floor of the hotel is probably looking at me like I’m some sort of freak. It’s kind of how us Misfits operate, though. You can dress us up, but everywhere we go, we end up bringing the circus with us.
I knock loud on the door. I’m not sure if either of them are awake yet.
I hear someone fumbling with the lock on the other side, and I’m greeted by Morgan, wearing nothing but a red thong, rollers in her blonde hair.
“God, your tits are huge,” I sigh. “You ready for this?”
I look around the room cautiously for Brooks. He’s passed out on the floor next to the bed in his jeans and t-shirt, hugging a pillow.
“Wild night last night?” I ask her.
“Well, I don’t remember much of it, but I will tell you, that man is relentless, if you know what I’m saying. I told him we couldn’t screw around or Salazar would notice. That’s why he’s sleeping on the floor. It’s hard for guys like him to control themselves around girls like me. You probably wouldn’t understand, Esther.”
“What I don’t understand, hun,” I say dramatically, “is why the fuck you aren’t dressed yet. Why are you still wearing yesterday’s make-up? You’re not going to a Def Leopard tribute band concert. You might be doing some whore shit, but Salazar isn’t into hoes.”
I can tell by the way her lips are painted on that she actually is wearing fresh make-up, but I figured I’d add in my own jab just for dramatics. I pull a red dress out of my purse and toss it to her. “Go put this on, please. I’d hate for Brooks to wake up and be so hypnotized by your boobs that he passes back out again, being as he can’t control himself around girls like you.”
“I don’t know what the big fucking deal is, Esther. You act like such a martyr. Maybe it is harder for you because you’re not as young-looking as I am. One look at me, and this guy is going to hand over his wallet and his car keys.”
I can only hope so. Seriously. It would be the best-case scenario. Even though she wrapped it in an insult, I’ll take it. My nerves are kind of starting to creep in about how today is going to go. Maybe I’m letting my jealousy of her blind the fact that we are dealing with a very serious operation this afternoon.
“Listen, Morgan,” I say. “He is going to love you. I promise. And I’m very thankful for what you’re doing. But you’re going to have to follow my lead. Salazar is a really dangerous man. He’s a little off his rocker. Please, if you want to do right by the guys in the club, please please please just keep your mouth shut today and do as I tell you. It’s not about car keys and cash. This is about the reputation of the club. This is about the future of our lifestyle.”
For the first time ever, I feel like I’m getting through to her. I see in her eyes a kind of understanding, a spark. As rough as these dirty birdies are around the edges, they just want what everyone else wants. They want to love and be loved. They want to see the people they care about taken care of.
“You should’ve given me this dress a long time ago,” she says from the bathroom. “It looks a lot better on me than it does on you.”
I spoke to soon, I think. “The fuck did you just say?” I yell, resisting my urge to run in there and grab her by her hair extensions.
“I mean because of your hair color, Esther. Cuz it’s red, and your hair is red. That’s all I mean. You can’t help that.”
“Shut your mouth and get ready,” I say.
“Seriously,” Brooks growls sleepily from the floor. “The next thing that comes out of it better be Salazar’s dick.”
“Oh my God,” I laugh. “I hope she didn’t hear you.”
“Who cares?” he asks. He stands up from his makeshift bed of pillows and blankets on the floor with a groan. “I’m disgusting,” he says, kissing me on the lips. “I need a shower and toothbrush. You look superhot, by the way. You sure we can’t just dump Morgan off at the ranch and hole up here for the rest of the day?”
“That was sweet of you to sleep on the floor, Brooks,” I say. “You know you didn’t have to. I trust you.”
“I know,” he says, brushing his fingers off my cheek. “It’s cute.” He slides his hand up the back of my dress and slaps my ass. “I don’t trust me with you in that dress though. You care if I go use your shower?”
“Help yourself.” I toss him my key card for my room. “It’s gonna take me a little while to wrangle this one into shape. She’s looking a little more street corner than Bunny Ranch.”
Chapter 24
Brooks:
I now see why Esther prefers to take the truck to these things. We’re standing in the driveway of the Salazar estate, and Esther is nervously fixing the curls in Morgan’s hair with a comb, while she blots her face with powder. Esther looks beautiful and stunning, but that’s the kind of woman she is. She doesn’t need cosmetic intervention. She’s just pretty. The way her hair is tucked high on her head shows off that perfect neck of hers, that little cluster of freckles on her shoulder I memorized all those years ago. My freckles. I almost want to tug her dress over to hide them. Hopefully it will be the last time this douchebag gets to see them.
We get patted down by a guy who’s burlier than I am in the doorway. He takes my pistol, and I feel like I’m in over my head. No wonder she usually brings Tank and Red. Those guys are big and mean as fuck, and even if I had a gun, I’d still wager they’d be able to kick my ass and take me down.
“What the fuck am I supposed to do without a gun?” I whisper to Esther as we clear the doorway of the estate, standing in the gigantic foyer with marble floors and the highest ceilings I’ve ever seen.
“I told you not to come. It’s going to be ok. Just don’t worry about it. Try and look scarier or something if it’ll make you feel better.”
I am way out of my league here, but I’m not going to let anything bad happen to these two girls. If Salazar or his men try anything dumb, I will go full-blown Hulk smash mode on these fuckers.
“You need to mind your temper, anyway,” she says, almost angrily
. “Remember, you signed up for this. Keep your wits about you. This is my job, and I take it very seriously.”
“Esther!” a woman who looks like she was very attractive at one point in her life but has finally reached the point that no plastic surgery can hide her age calls to her as she walks into the foyer. She reaches out and puts her arms around her. “My husband is going to be so happy to see you.”
It’s a fucked-up world we live in, that’s for sure.
“Who’s your friend?” she asks.
“This is Morgan. She’s heard so much about Mr. Salazar and has been begging me to bring her forever. I hope you don’t mind.”
The woman eyes up Morgan skeptically, looking her whole body up and down.
“Is she clean?” she asks.
“Hey!” Morgan pouts. “That’s fucking rude.”
“Morgan!” Esther scolds, pinching her arm. “You don’t speak to Mrs. Salazar like that. I assure you, she’s clean. A little wet behind the ears, but I’m certain she’ll learn her place in no time.”
“Well she’s good-looking enough, I suppose,” she says, her voice deep. “Joe likes them a little feisty anyway. He says it helps keep him young.”
“I remember him saying that,” Esther laughs. This is all too strange to me. I just stand there with my hands in my pockets eyeing up the place, pretending like I’m not paying attention. There’s probably more money in one of these paintings on the walls then we have on the entire mountain. And that’s with a mansion and twenty or so motorcycles. These people are rich enough to have the luxury of being straight-up fucking weirdos.
