Sweetened Suffering (Sweet Treats Book 2)

by Charity B.

  He grins back. “Call me Keith.”

  Nodding, I back up and leave his office. That was so much easier than I thought it would be. I can’t believe I got my own job! I’ve never done anything other than being Sweet Girl.

  I walk in the aisle between the booths and tables, as I count six different stages. Flashing lights make me worried I’ll bump into something, so I take careful steps.

  The men don’t even notice me as they keep their hungry eyes on the dancers. Each girl has her own stage that’s littered with money, but there’s one girl I can’t stop watching. Her short, pink hair reminds me of cotton candy and her body moves like the music is coming from her caramel skin. She has the biggest crowd by far. As her fingers caress her breasts and trail down to her diamond studded belly button, I become self-conscious.

  I don’t dance like that. Is that how I’m supposed to do it? What if nobody likes my dancing?

  “Candy?” A hand touches my shoulder and I turn to see Mr. Heder holding out some papers. “You start tomorrow. I’ve included the employee handbook along with the schedule.” He holds out his hand. “I’m glad you came in. See you tomorrow night at eight.”

  I slap his hand with mine and I hear him chuckle as he walks away. Looking at the first piece of paper he gave me, I see the name ‘Candy’ written in little boxes next to the times eight through two, for tomorrow night. My heart thumps with the thrill of knowing I did this all by myself. I turn to the next page and see the rules. I’m really going to get paid to dance. Just dance. That’s it. Obviously, I’m expected to take my clothes off, but according to these rules, if anyone touches me, or even makes me feel uncomfortable, they get thrown out. The men aren’t even allowed to touch me? Oh yes, I will be perfectly fine here. I’m sure I can learn how to dance like the girl with cotton candy hair. Soon, I will be able to make enough to do…well, whatever it is I decide to do.

  Now, maybe, Drew won’t be so mean to Sasha. I feel like she gets in trouble a lot because of me. I feel guilty about it, and I don’t like him, really. He’s mean and he yells at her all the time. I’ve caught her crying a few times, when she didn’t know I was watching.

  Sliding my finger beneath my wig to scratch my scalp, I leave the club. The excitement from finding a job wears off, and I hate that the constant uneasiness is back. I haven’t stopped feeling nauseated since Friday. At least I have the drugs. As long as it isn’t heroin, Sasha won’t try to stop me. Speaking of… I take the baggie out of my pocket and inhale a bump.

  The strip club is in Shadyside Slums which is good because Logan would never come to this part of town and neither would any of the Clients. It’s one of those nights where I can smell the ocean, even this far into the city. I am coked out of my mind, so I decide to walk downtown instead of taking a cab.

  Eltsen Street is a popular party scene for Shadoebox, and is lined with bars, restaurants, and shops. Since it’s after midnight, I’m thinking walking in the alleyway will minimize my chances of seeing someone I don’t want to. I snort one more quick line and make my way down the alley.

  It stinks back here with all the business’ trash bins, and the street lights are spotty. This has got to be the hundredth building I’ve passed. I should be getting to the end of the street any time now. It’s quiet and I thought I was alone back here so my heart jumps at the sudden movement in the corner of my eye. Stopping in my tracks, I slowly turn my head to watch a couple making out under a streetlight. It’s obvious she’s jerking him off, for anyone to see. Going back isn’t really an option, so being as discreet as possible, I hurry past them.

  “Would you like me to suck your cock, Alex?”

  It’s like an explosion goes off in my brain making it impossible to move. My feet won’t lift off the ground and it sounds like a tornado in my ears. Surely it’s a different Alex. That’s kind of a common name, right? I scoot a little closer. I don’t know why I need to make sure it isn’t him. I’m being as quiet as I can when my elbow hits a pole leaning against the trash bin, causing a loud clang to echo through the entire alley.

  “What was that?” the girl asks.

  I move deeper into the shadows, so even though they can’t see me, I’m closer than I was, and I see it’s definitely Alexander.

  My heart falls to the pavement. She’s feeling the touch I have ached for. Something’s in my throat and hot tears burn my eyes. I don’t have a right to the tears, I never have. What is he doing here anyway? I thought he always went to The Necco Room.

  My chest is closing and there isn’t enough room for the oxygen. I want to go to him. I want to pull that girl off of him. I want to tell him that I’m scared and confused, and that he makes me feel more special than anyone else has ever made me feel, that I never wanted to hurt him, and that I do love him. I want to tell him that I’m sorry for what I am, and that I wasn’t strong enough to let him go before this went too far. I want to thank him for everything he’s done for me.

  As quickly and silently as I can, I slip into an adjoining alley. I know he needs to move on. It isn’t fair to not want him with other girls, because it will help him not be sad. He’s sad because of me and I hate myself for that.

  The thought that maybe I could watch him from afar has come across my mind. Simply knowing that we were breathing the same air would somehow help satisfy this…longing.

  Tonight proves that isn’t a possibility. I can’t watch him with other girls. While I truly do want his happiness, I’m nowhere near strong enough to witness it. I want him to miss me and think about me, and that’s terrible because being with him isn’t an option.

  Right now, I need to focus on figuring out what I’m going to do.

  Going back with the Clients feels impossible. Even being with Master isn’t something I can ever do again. I would rather die than feel the crawly, terrifying, slime filling my pores.

  If I’m completely honest with myself, I know I’m scared to never see Logan again. What will it be like to not have him in my life? More than anything though, I’m terrified of what he’ll do if he finds me. What he’ll do if he finds out everything about Lex.

  Then there’s the fact that Toben has never once said he would come with me if I leave Shadoebox. I don’t understand why. We finally get an actual opportunity to get away, and he refuses to discuss it. I don’t know what to do.

  Entertaining the idea of telling Lex has been fleeting. It won’t accomplish anything besides make everything worse. I just miss him. I can’t get the picture of him in the alley out of my brain.

  The tears won’t stop falling even after I get back to Sasha’s and lie down to go to sleep.

  You brought this on yourself. Be grateful you got to feel his touch at all.

  Wednesday, June 10th

  I’m clean out of the coke Toben gave me and I don’t think my stomach can get any twistier. I don’t want to do this and Sasha isn’t letting up.

  “Good Lord, I’m done arguing with you, Tavin. Call her.” She holds out her phone.

  “No.” She can’t actually force me. I cross my arms. “Don’t you know any other doctors?”

  Her nostrils flare. I’m frustrating her, but I don’t want to see Marie the Doctor. She’ll ask about Alexander and I don’t want to talk to her about him.

  “Not ones that make house calls and don’t ask questions.”

  I scoff at her. “Marie the Doctor asks plenty of questions.”

  She looks at me funny and snorts. “I’m sure she’s good with plain ‘Marie’.” She pushes my legs open so she can see the cut. “You need to get these stitches out. We can’t afford to add infection to the list of shit we’re dealing with.”

  Sasha is the first girl I have ever been friends with. I guess there’s Misty, Master’s assistant, and she’s very nice, she isn’t really my friend, though. With Sasha I feel like she sees me as the same as her. She knows everything and still wants to be around me.

  “I don’t think she really likes me.”

  “She likes you f
ine. For some reason, she’s always had this mother hen thing for Alex. That’s how she is. She can be a bit overprotective.” She looks at my crossed arms and rolls her eyes. “What if I call her for you?”

  We’ve been arguing forever and I don’t like fighting with her. If Marie the Doc—I mean Marie, takes these stupid stitches out, then maybe she’ll tell me if she’s seen Lex and knows if he’s okay. He hasn’t texted Sasha or returned her calls. Other than what I watched last night, I have no idea how he is or if he’s still sad.

  I groan. This is going to suck. “Fine.”

  She sighs and swipes at her phone. “Thank Christ.”

  Marie comes over when she gets off work. When she walks in, she looks straight at me and even though she supposedly ‘doesn’t ask questions’, I can tell by her face she’s about to start asking them.

  “What are you doing over here? Why aren’t you at Alex’s?”

  Told ya.

  Placing her bag on the couch, she takes out a pair of blue latex gloves. Her hand presses on my knee to push apart my legs and inspects my cut.

  “We, uh…broke up.”

  I guess that’s what you would call it. ‘I’m a selfish liar that smashed his heart’ is much more accurate, though.

  She kneels in front of me and lays down a towel before lining up silver implements on top of it. “I’m sorry to hear that.” That’s what she says, but it kind of loses its effect when it’s said so cheery. She obviously hasn’t talked to him if she doesn’t already know. “Are you alright? What happened?”

  I have to lie all the time and though it may seem like it, I don’t actually like to. I’m starting to feel exhausted from it all. Taking a deep breath, I avoid her eyes when I say the words.

  “He saw me…with someone else.”

  There’s no response, so I lift my eyes to see her shock. “What?” She glances at Sasha before turning her scowling face back to me. “After everything he did for you?” She’s nearly yelling and it makes me involuntarily push myself further into the cushions. I don’t know what I should say. “I warned him you were bad news.” Her eyes look like they could burn a hole in my face, as she continues setting up. “Alex is one of the best men I know. You have no idea what you fucked up.”

  The way her eyes get a little brighter when she says his name, her defensiveness of him, and how she looks at him differently when he isn’t paying attention… I should have been able to tell before. She’ll drop everything to help him no matter what.

  She loves him.

  She’s in love with him.

  My eyes start to sting with tears because she’s exactly the kind of girl he should be with. She’s been friends with him for a long time and truly cares about him. She has every right to hate me for what I did and everything she’s saying is true, except, I absolutely do know what I fucked up, it’s just that it should have never existed to begin with.

  My voice is hiding. I try to push it out, and all I can do is squeak, “I know.”

  She scoffs as she cleans my cut and Sasha leans up against the couch. “Marie, ease up, okay? You don’t know the situation.”

  “Oh? Enlighten me then. I’m sure there is a perfectly valid explanation.”

  She’s using tweezers to lift the string of the stitches, and the scissors are cold as she slides them beneath the string. The sound of the blades closing as she cuts is harsh in the silence. She isn’t exactly rough, but she definitely isn’t gentle about it.

  Sasha sighs and sits next to me as Marie continues her process down the wound. When she tugs on the thread to pull it out of my skin, I swallow back my moan.

  “I know we haven’t been close in a while, and I know I went off the deep end there for a bit… just please believe me when I say Tavin isn’t completely at fault.” She glances at me. “She’s made some stupid choices, it’s just not as clear cut as you think.”

  Marie rolls her eyes as she places a clear sticky strip over the healing skin. “Yeah, its Alex’s fault she can’t keep her legs closed.”

  “Hey!” Sasha snaps.

  Marie gathers up her tools, placing them back in her bag. “She screws around on your brother and you put her up in your apartment?” She shrugs. “I guess junkies tend to stick together.”

  Sasha shoots off the couch. “What the fuck, Marie?” While it’s clear she’s angry, it still doesn’t hide the tears in her voice.

  “I’m finished.” Marie stands to face Sasha. “You need to find another doctor. She isn’t my patient anymore.”

  “And you need to get out of my apartment. I thought we were friends. You obviously still just see me as needle trash.” Sasha shakes her head and all her sadness evaporates. Now she’s flat out pissed. “Two years. Next month will be two years, so fuck you.”

  Marie’s face falls and I think she’s going to apologize, when instead she turns and walks out. Sasha goes to the door and locks it before slamming her hand against it. She spins around and walks past me.

  The light shimmers off her cheeks, from tears. “If Drew gets home, tell him I’m taking a bath.”

  “Okay,” I murmur, even though she doesn’t hear me, she’s already gone down the hall. Sighing, I sit at the kitchen table and rest my chin in my hands.

  Am I ever going to stop messing with these peoples’ lives?

  Cara Jo hasn’t spoken to me much the last few days and I still need to apologize. She wants to be here for me and I know I should let her. Right now though, the last thing I want to do is talk about my feelings with her.

  I drop my keys in the bowl as I walk into the kitchen. “Hi. Did you have a good day?”

  “I did. Thank you.” Her arms are full, so she shuts the refrigerator with her foot. “There’s mail for you on the counter.”

  She places the items on the island and turns down the hall. Her abrupt responses, short tone, and failing to ask me about my day are all pretty big clues she’s still upset. I sigh as I flip through the envelopes, when six words become clearer than the rest.

  California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation

  I’m suddenly conflicted. I want to know what Tavin has lied about, what her story really is. So why is part of me hoping he declined my request for visitation?

  Tearing open the envelope, I find the signed form and a handwritten note.

  Friday, June 12th, between one and four p.m.

  Okay, I’m guessing that’s when he wants me to visit? Relief battles with trepidation as I walk to the cabinet for a glass. Talking to him will bring me one step closer, but to what exactly?

  As I take my drink upstairs, I hear the one-eyed demon’s collar jingle, while she follows me to my room.

  “Are you ever going to be out of my house?”

  Friday, June 12th

  Marie gives me an STI test every six months, since I haven’t been able to keep women off my cock since college. The cute nurse seems to be enjoying herself as she checks my blood pressure and gives me a flirty smile. If this were a few months ago, I would ask her out. Now as it happens, the idea of being inside another faceless girl has completely lost its appeal.

  She bends over as she types a few things into her computer. “Dr. Forge will be in shortly.”

  I nod at her and check the time causing a twitch of slight anxiety at the fact I’m leaving for the prison in a couple of hours.

  There’s a soft tap on the door before Marie comes in. “Hey—” Walking straight up to me, she wraps her arms around my neck, squeezing tight. I chuckle at her enthusiasm. “It’s good to see you, too.”

  “Oh, Alex, I told you she was messy.”

  “Whoa, what?” I push her back. “You know about Tav?”

  She’s gnawing on her lip the way she used to before her track meets. “Her stitches needed to come out.”

  I completely forgot about her cut. Why doesn’t she call her own damn doctor and leave mine out of it?

  “Oh, right. Of course.”

  I want to know how she is and what she said, if she�
��s doing her Sweet Girl thing again. I don’t though, because it doesn’t matter. My interest is in her past not her present.

  Sitting on her stool, she places her hand on my knee. “How are you doing?”

  Terrible. I wave her off to add to my convincing factor. “I’ll be fine.”

  With an apologetic smile, she rolls her chair to the computer on the wall. “She’s obviously special to you, I just don’t really understand why. I know she’s pretty and she’s adventurous in…” she glances away from me as her cheeks redden, “the bedroom, but she’s a drug addicted prostitute with Tourette Syndrome.” She chuckles, “And I mean you’re…you know…you.”

  “She has Tourette Syndrome?”

  Her nostrils flare as she exhales out her nose. I don’t think that was the part she wanted me to latch on to. “What do you think that little head jerk she does is? It’s a tic.”

  I’ve noticed it, especially when she’s upset or anxious, though I never gave it much thought. It almost seems obvious now.

  “Is there anything you can give her for it?”

  “There’s no need to. It doesn’t hurt or affect her. I doubt she even knows she does it. Anyway, she isn’t my concern anymore.”

  The smell of sanitizing solution fills the room as she coats her hands with it.

  “You know, I could really use a refill on that Valium prescription…” I mention as casually as possible. She gives a bitchy eye roll and pulls on her blue latex gloves.

  The alcohol swab is freezing when she wipes my arm with it. “Okay, Alex, I’ll give you one refill so make it last.” She pricks my skin with the needle and I watch my blood fill the tube on the syringe. “For what it’s worth, in my opinion, she’s a sick, young woman. And there’s something unsettling about her, it’s like I get an odd feeling.”

  I hate to admit I kind of know what she means. There are times when Tavin can creep me the hell out. She’ll say something completely fucked up or will laugh at the most unsettling times. God, I hate that I miss her.