“What are the rules at those things Paige?”
“Sell until they know I’m there and leave before I’m found out,” I rattle off immediately.
“You stayed too long,” he accuses me.
“I got held up,” I protest in a whisper.
He grabs my face roughly in his hand and squeezes my cheeks together. “You don’t get held up!” he yells into my face, pushing my head back forcefully as he takes a step away from me.
“I’m sorry!” I cry out pleadingly. Tears start to burn hot in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall.
“So am I Paige! I’m fucking sorry too! The cops know what you look like. I can’t take you out anymore. You’re no good to me. Do you understand that? You’re fucking no good.”
“Jeff no! It was only one cop. Just one! The other one didn’t even get the chance to see me.”
“And you knocked her out, then kneed him in the fucking balls! He’s not likely to forget you anytime soon!”
“We can change my hair! I can still sell, I promise you! It won’t ever happen again.”
“Just. Just get out.”
“What?”
“Get the fuck out Paige.”
My mouth falls open as I realise he’s serious.
“No. Please don’t do this to me. I can still sell! Just give me another chance!” I beg.
“Get. Out.” he growls through clenched teeth.
“Please Jeff! I…I love you!”
Suddenly he starts laughing. “You love me? Oh my god. You love me?! Really? Wow. You are far more stupid than I gave you credit for.”
“Why are you laughing!?” I screech.
“Because Paige. You’re just a little girl, and not a very bright one at that. Actually, I’m stunned that you didn’t get found out sooner than this. And it’s been good Paige, it’s been fun. You’ve got a sweet cunt and a tight little arse. I’ve enjoyed you. But if you can’t sell. You’re a liability, and I don’t do charity.”
I just sit there staring at him, shaking my head from side to side in disbelief.
Suddenly he holds his finger up, and starts walking backwards, away from me. “You know what. You made me smile just now, so let me help you out.” He disappears into the bedroom and returns with a back pack, stuffing handfuls of my clothing inside it and shoves it at my chest. “Now get out.”
“No please, we’re good together. Don’t do this Jeff. Where will I go?”
“I don’t care. I really couldn’t care less.”
He pushes me roughly toward the door, and I fight against it the whole way. I’m petrified of being on my own again. I drop my bag as we reach the door and put my arms and legs out against the frame so he can’t push me through as I beg him not to throw me out.
But he’s stronger than me and pins my arms and legs to my body, then physically throws me on the front lawn outside. I land with a thud that knocks the air painfully from my chest. In the time it takes to get back on my feet, my bag has come sailing out and he’s locked the door.
“Shit!” I say to myself, slapping and kicking my heel on the damp grass beneath me. “Fuck!” I get up to my knees and pick up my bag, pushing everything inside it so I can at least close the zip.
I can’t believe this just happened. I can’t believe someone I cared so much about could do this to me. We’ve shared our lives together. How can this just be over so suddenly?
My mind does its usual thing, and reminds me that my parents were supposed to love me, and they threw me out for a lot less than this. Why wouldn’t Jeff do the same thing?
I stand and look at the house that had come to be my home, breathing heavily as I fight to keep my emotions in check.
I want to go to the door and ask him to reconsider. But I don’t. I don’t bother fighting this. I don’t bother trying to get back in. I’ve been through this all before. Instead, I hitch my bag up on my shoulder and start walking, trying my best to hold it together so I can figure out what to do.
I reach my hand into my pocket and pull out the wad of cash I have from the night of selling and count it. There’s over a thousand dollars.
“Well, at least I have some cash this time,” I say to myself, pushing it back inside my pocket. I also have a decent amount of ecstasy tablets left too, so at least I have a bit of happiness left in my life. Even if it is only chemical.
Chapter Fifteen
I realise that I have nowhere to go. I can’t go and stay with Tahlia again because if I’m there, Jeff will find me. It won’t be because he wants me back. He’ll come looking for the drugs and the money. God only knows what he’ll do to me when he realises I took them. I’ll have to get out of town.
I make my way to the train station and head toward the city. There are more people there, and I should be able to lose myself easily in the crowds.
It’s getting close to one in the morning, and the rocking of the train is attempting to lull me off to sleep. I would be stupid to sleep on the train on my own, so I force my eyes to stay open.
It’s stupid to even be on the train on my own at this time of night. But I don’t have much of a choice.
I think my face must be bruising, because I get a few funny looks from some of the other passengers. I touch it gently and wince as my tender flesh cries out in pain. He obviously hit me harder than I thought.
I bow my head and let my hair fall over that side of my face in an attempt to hide it. That will have to do for now.
Watching the dark scenery as it travels by outside the train, I see a lit up sign advertising motel rooms from $55 a night. I figure that’s as good a place as any and rise from my seat to disembark as the train slows down to pull into the station.
The motel is a short walk from the station, and I move fast and confidently, praying silently that no one stops me.
Thankfully, the worst I get is a few cat calls from party goers loitering outside a nearby club before I make it to the reception area and ask the exhausted and very disinterested looking clerk if I can have a room.
“You got ID?” he asks, sitting forward and eyeing me up and down, sucking his teeth as he takes in my appearance.
I hand him my ID and get ready to count out the money to pay for my room.”
“Can’t rent to minors,” he says immediately, and pushes my card across the counter back towards me.
“But… I need somewhere to sleep. I have cash. I can pay. Don’t send me back out there,” I plead, moving my hair a little so the side of my face is more visible to him, hoping it might sway his decision in my favour.
His eyes skim over my face, and he sits back in his chair, the back of it creaking under the strain of his weight.
“It’ll cost you double.”
I blink my eyes rapidly as I realise that at double the price, I can only stay here for ten days, without eating, based on what I have on me.
“Fine,” I say, pulling the money from my pocket and putting it on the counter in front of him.
He hands me a form to fill out as he takes the money and places a passkey on the counter next to the clipboard.
“You’ll be in room 25. It’s just down the end of the row to your left.”
“Thanks,” I tell him, handing over the form and taking the plastic card.
“Check out is at 10:30.”
I nod and walk out into the dark of the early hours of the morning. The room isn’t far from reception, but anywhere, alone in the dark is scary as fuck. I hate being out on my own at night. I’ve hated it ever since I was forced to sleep out in the park. Every noise and every shadow puts me on high alert, and the sound of a door opening sends my heart racing so fast that I feel as if I might scream.
Without looking around me, I quicken my pace and locate my room, my shaking hand betraying me as it causes me to slip and miss the slot for the card.
Once I make it inside, I lean against the door and breathe heavily. Glad to be somewhere safe. After a few moments, I head straight for the bathroom, so I can see what’s been
causing the stares.
“Oh wow,” I breathe out as my reflection greets me. My cheek is all red and swollen, and my right eye is slightly smaller than my left. A purple tinge is already developing, and I realise that I’m likely to get a good-sized bruise. A bruised face will limit my options even further.
“Fuck!” I cry and kick at the cupboard door. Tears burst from my eyes as if breaking through a dam, and my sobs echo off the tiles as they escape from my body while I finally let myself think about the events of the night. Why does this shit happen to me? Is it really that hard to have me around? Am I that hard to live with? To love?
I had thought I was in love with Jeff. I’d thought that maybe, he was in love with me too. But it was all a lie, and I was so fucking stupid to get sucked in - to think that someone actually cared about someone like me. I’ve probably had people laughing at me behind my back the entire time.
My own family didn’t care enough to keep me around. How could I possibly think that someone else could actually see something special in me? I was kidding myself.
I pull the bag of Es out of my pocket and count the pills, sliding them around in the plastic as I wonder if I should just take them all. Surely that would do it. No one would even know I was gone. No one would even claim my body.
I empty the pills into my hand and study them. As I do, I imagine what it will be like to swallow them all and let them carry me away from this earth – never to return. Blissful, I hope.
Staring at the pills in my palm, I’m frozen. “Just do it Paige. End it.” I urge myself.
I take three quick breaths and then cup my hand to my mouth, tossing the pills inside.
Instantly, my throat closes and I reflexively spit them into the sink. “I can’t!” I cry, spitting and heaving, trying to catch my breath. “Shit!” I hiss, kicking again at the vanity in front of me.
Now the pills were ruined. I was even worse off than I was a few moments ago.
I turn on the tap and splash cool water over my face as I breathe in some sort of calm. If I can’t end it, I need to find a way to look after myself.
But what kind of skill set do I have? None. Nothing at all that could get me any kind of work.
Then I remember Jeff telling me that a girl who is good in bed will always have somewhere to sleep.
I stare at myself in the mirror. Would I be able to make someone want to take me home with them? I try to see in my reflection something that men would find attractive.
I’ve been called beautiful before, but I don’t see what it is that’s beautiful about me. My eyes are fairly light in colour and my hair is so wildly curly, that I look slightly crazed.
I think I look a bit like a witch. But my lips are full and my breasts are on the large side, if I wear makeup and clothes to show them off, then I might be in with a chance.
Leaning close to the mirror, I huff out my breath and leave behind a circle of fog. Through it, my features are blurred. I can only see my body.
Slowly, I move, swinging my hips and focusing on my curves. I’m trying to look at myself, as if I’m not me.
As the fog clears, my face becomes clear once more. The bruise and the swelling make me look horrible, but as soon as it’s healed – I’m going to have to put my skills to the test. We’ll see if Jeff really did teach me anything.
Chapter Sixteen
I stay at the motel for a few days. Just enough time to let the swelling and the bruising on my face clear up so it can be covered sufficiently by makeup.
I don’t have much money left. Between the cost of the room, food, make up and an outfit to go clubbing in, I’m almost broke. I seriously contemplated stealing the clothes and food, but that’s something I hate doing, unless I’m desperate. No one wants to be caught shop lifting. It seems like the lamest thing to be busted for after everything I’ve done so far.
I have a plan to try to get into a night club tonight and find a guy, who has his own place and wants to take me home. I’m trying not to think about what kind of person that makes me. I might not go through with it if I do.
The outfit I bought is a sleeveless, skin-tight black dress that barely hits the top of my thighs. It’s one of those dresses people make comments about. They say things like ‘That girl is asking for it’, and I am. That’s exactly what I want.
My makeup is dark and smoky around my eyes, and my lips are painted a deep red. It’s the same red as my shoes. I look so much older than I am.
I put my denim jacket on and leave the motel room with my backpack hung over one shoulder. I haven’t settled my bill for today, but I’m not expecting to come back.
I walk to the train station and catch the train all the way to the city this time. There are pubs and clubs on every street in there. Surely, I’ll find one that will let me in as well as someone to let me share their bed.
Walking along, I notice a club with a long line up and move closer to get a look at the bouncer. He’s checking every person’s ID before he lets them in. God I wish I had a fake ID, but they’re not easy to come by, not unless you have an older friend who looks enough like you.
After an hour of trying to find a club, I give up and go into a regular pub. It’s full of people, but no one is checking IDs at the door.
Moving slowly through the crowd, I suddenly feel really silly with all my makeup and shorter than short dress. The people inside look as though they have come straight from work. They look classy. Compared to them, I look like a hooker.
Embarrassed, I immediately head for the bathrooms to at least remove some of my eye makeup. I have to push through the long line of women waiting for the stalls to get in front of the mirror.
Staring at my reflection now, I roll my eyes. I look ridiculous. Pulling at the paper towel, I run it under some water and start blotting at the colour I had been so proud of applying earlier.
Beside me, a couple of women are chatting about the men they’re having drinks with, as they fix their makeup and check their hair in the mirror. They appear to be in their early twenties and the one closest to me has her hair dark brown hair braided tightly down her back. A few loose curls escape and frame her Mediterranean features perfectly.
I look from her face to mine, and try to watch her without being caught.
There is no ledge to put our bags, so they are all sitting on the floor by our feet. I kneel down to look inside mine and glance over at hers. I can see her purse, but I don’t for the life of me know how I can get my hands on it without her noticing.
Someone stumbles in behind us and knocks us all forward. I fall on my hands and the girl I was watching, turns around to yell at the person for being so careless because she just smeared her lipstick.
Seeing my opportunity, I grab for her handbag and stand up quickly, hiding it behind my back pack as I make my way through the crowd and out the front door of the pub.
I don’t think my heart has ever beat so loudly. I walk to the end of the street and around the corner, never looking behind and never adjusting the bags. I need to keep it hidden until I can get somewhere safe.
The familiar golden arches glow up ahead, and I make a beeline to McDonalds and once again head straight for the bathroom.
This time I lock myself in the stall and put the seat of the toilet down, hang my back pack on the back of the door, and sit down to search through the bag I just stole.
My hands are shaking so much that I can barely undo the clasp, but when I do, I reach inside and take the phone out first, turning it off and removing the battery before dropping it into the sanitary bin next to me.
Next, I pull out her wallet and study the photo on her license. Linda Alessi is a twenty-two year-old woman who lives in Castle Hill. In her photo, she is wearing glasses and her hair is pulled back. I don’t know if we look enough alike. I pull out my own ID and hold them next to each other. My hazel eyes are quite light and almost piercing in my photo, and hers are brown. I’m not sure this will work.
My brother and sister’s taunts abo
ut my unusual looks float through my head. Compared to me, Linda Alessi looks normal. I hope that with my hair out and makeup on, I’ll get away with it. I guess I can claim to be wearing contacts…
I go through the rest of her wallet and find $227.75 as well as a gift card for David Jones. The original amount on it is $500 dollars, but upon further investigation, I find a receipt that tells me that after a purchase, the card still has just over a hundred dollars on it.
Resting my head against the side of the stall, the reality of what I’ve done isn’t lost on me. I feel guilty. I’ve just taken someone’s identity. I’ve taken things that are personal to them.
But I don’t know what else to do.
I take the wallet and put it in my bag, then remove the lid of the sanitary disposal unit and put the handbag and the remainder of its contents inside. The smell of the bin wafts up to my nostrils and turns my stomach sour, so I replace the lid quickly and exit the stall.
In the mirror a wide-eyed girl, trying to look grown-up stares back at me. I’m almost seventeen years old, but I look like a frightened child. I have no idea if I’m going to be able to pull this off, but I can’t go back to sleeping in children’s parks. I’ll do anything to stay off the street.
I spend a bit of time memorising the details of Linda’s ID, in case I’m asked any questions and then tuck it and $50 inside my strapless bra. After one more check of my appearance, I head off in search of a night club.
It isn’t long before I find one with only a short line and join in, standing up straight and trying to look confident.
“ID” the bouncer at the door says when I reach the front of the line.
I reach into my bra and pull it out to hand to him, taking note of his eyes as they linger on my chest a little longer than they should. I don’t even really think he’s paying much attention to the ID. He hands it back and nods his head toward the door.
I step inside, and the smell of artificial smoke and stale liquor is strong in my nostrils. To my left is a desk manned by two blonde girls who smile at me and offer to check my jacket and bag after I pay my entry fee.
Phoenix: The Beauty in Between (A Beautiful Series Companion Novel) Page 7
