by Kylie Walker
Chloe stuffed the journal back in her dresser drawer and went out in the kitchen to make herself some tea. Lexi wasn’t home but she’d gotten a text from her earlier that said she would be home in time to drive them to work tonight. Chloe grimaced when she thought about work. She hated that place more every time she stepped into it.
She made her tea and a couple of pieces of toast and took it all along with her tablet out to the little patio that overlooked the beach. The air was warm but there was a light breeze blowing in over the ocean and the blue sky was streaked with big, white puffy clouds. Just being out in the open air made her feel better and helped her clear her head. While she ate her toast and sipped her tea, she fired up the notebook and first she checked Chantelle’s Facebook page.
Chantelle was the only friend Chloe had from her old life. She was her only link to the person she used to be...the skin she had shed. Chantelle was also her savior. She was the one who had called 911 and sent the police and the medics the night that Jesse tried to kill her. After the trial was over and Chloe was leaving New York for Rhode Island, she and Chantelle decided that the best and safest way for them to stay in touch would be through a Facebook account that Chantelle created. Chantelle created an account in her deceased mother’s name. No one else used it, but if Chloe needed to contact her friend or vice versa, they would use the message feature to do it. It was safer than a phone that could be traced and so far Chantelle had been able to keep her updated on things she was able to find out about Jesse. She was the one that found out Jesse was up for parole. Chloe knew the plan was for him to be released sometime in August, but since Chantelle told her that, she checked every day now, just to be sure. Today, there were no messages. Chloe always counted that as a good thing.
She signed off the Facebook page and went to the search engine and typed in: Sarah Whitemore Stark. She got back a lot of hits. She clicked on the first one...it was an obituary that read:
Whitemore, Sarah age 22 died tragically in a motor vehicle accident in Providence, Rhode Island. She is the Granddaughter of the late Hon. Jack Whitemore and his wife the late Tatiana Whitemore, both of Albany New York. She is survived by husband Derek Stark of Providence Rhode Island and parents Trevor Whitemore and Samantha Whitemore. She is now joined in heaven with her twin sister, Baby S Whitemore who also became an angel too soon. Services will be held at the Grantsville Family Funeral Home on Tuesday, January 27 at 10:30 a.m. followed by graveside services at the Graceland Cemetery and Mausoleum on Delaware Avenue immediately following. The family asks that if you wish to send remembrances that you send them in Sarah’s name to St. Peter’s hospital in Albany.
There it was again, that strange little ache in her chest that at other times seemed to be just a raw emptiness. She didn’t know this woman. She could feel compassion for her and her family and that would be normal...but a physical ache? She was letting all of this mess with her head. Finding out you had a twin that you never knew about was the stuff that soap operas are made of, not real life.
Chapter 5
Chloe’s week didn’t get any better. She spent her time at home ignoring calls and texts from Derek. He started out casually asking her if they could “talk.” Then he moved into worrying if she was okay and by Thursday evening he was leaving hints that if she didn’t call or text him he was going to have to stop by her house or the club just to see that she was alright. She final gave in and sent him a text that simply said: “I’m fine. I’m not ready to talk about this. I will let you know when/if I am.” He must have accepted that because she didn’t get another text back from him.
On Saturday she did a 5K run with Lexi for breast cancer awareness. The run wasn’t bad at all, but it was hot outside and it left her exhausted. After she got home and took a long bath she went to bed and finally got a good night’s sleep. She woke up feeling so refreshed on Sunday that she decided maybe she should increase her run every day.
Lexi was up when she went out into the kitchen. She hadn’t said anything more about the man she was seeing that had just disappeared on her or the idea that maybe she should start stripping. Chloe was relieved about that and she didn’t want to remind her in case she’d forgotten it, so she hadn’t brought it up. She fixed her toast and tea and joined Lexi on the back patio.
“Good morning. I thought you were going to sleep all day,” Lexi said with a smile.
“It’s only nine-thirty.”
“Yeah, but you’re usually up before the surfers and they’re already pulling it in for the day.”
Chloe looked out at the water. There was one lone surfer out in the middle of the ocean and two who looked like they’d just come in, sitting in the sand. She’d often thought about trying it. Something about watching them out there on the water made her think it would give you a real sense of freedom. She might try it yet.
“True,” she said. “That run yesterday kicked my butt I guess.”
“Mine too,” Lexi said. “But I needed it. Roxi said I can start dancing if I lose ten pounds.”
“What? Please tell me you’re kidding?”
“About dancing or losing ten pounds?” Lexi asked her.
“Both. You don’t need to lose ten pounds and you don’t want to be a stripper...do you?”
“The ten pounds won’t hurt me. I’m getting love handles. As far as the stripping, Chloe, I’m just tired of watching everyone leave with hundreds of dollars in their pocket every night while I collect my paltry thirty or forty bucks after I split with the servers. These guys don’t want to spend their money tipping a bartender. They want to save it for the entertainment and I want a piece of that. We both know this job is not going to be a career for either one of us. The faster I make some cash, the quicker I get out of that place.”
Chloe knew that she was the last person who had a right to argue that. Lexi was only reciting what Chloe herself had said a million times. She just hated to see her friend have to go down that road.
“Well, I can’t stop you from stripping, but Roxi’s crazy telling you to lose weight. These creeps like the curves. She made me gain weight when I first started.” The whole business perpetuated a crappy self-image no matter what you looked like, Chloe thought.
“Yes, but you were a stick.”
“Don’t get too carried away with this, Lex, okay?”
“Carried away how?”
“Do you remember Tracy?”
Lexi looked reluctant but she finally said, “Yeah, of course. I’m not Tracy though.”
“Tracy probably didn’t think she was the type to get so addicted to the money that she’d do anything for it either. This stripping crap messes with your head and your values and everything else.”
“I have my head on straight. I promise. No sex and no drugs. Only rock n roll. So enough about me. How is tall, dark, rich and dreamy?”
“I assume he’s fine. I haven’t talked to him for about a week.”
“Why not? I seem to recall an empty bed last Sunday morning...”
Chloe sighed and rolled her eyes. “It’s not going to happen again,” she said. “We don’t have anything in common.”
“I’d find something,” Lexi said. “Maybe you should switch majors and go for a real estate license instead of teaching credentials.”
“Let’s talk about something else,” Chloe said.
Lexi knew her well enough to know she was finished with the subject...at least for now. They talked for a while longer about some of the girls at the club and Lexi filled her in on the gossip she’d heard this past week. She finally looked at the time and said, “I have to meet my mom and sister for a wedding dress planning session at one. I’ll be home in time to drive us to work.”
“Your sister’s not going to make you wear pink taffeta is she?”
Lexi was going to be the maid of honor at her sister’s wedding. Her sister was the “girly” one of the two, according to what she’d told Chloe about her. She was marrying a stockbroker and he had all but told her the sky w
as the limit as far as the wedding budget went. Lexi said that was a big mistake on his part. So far, her sister had amassed bills of close to forty thousand dollars and the wedding was still eight months away.
“Not unless she wants me to kill her,” Lexi said. “I’ll see you tonight.”
After she took off, Chloe finished her breakfast and tea and she went in to get dressed and go for a run before she showered. When she stepped into the bedroom, she heard an unfamiliar “ding” noise. She looked around and realized that it was her phone. Then her heart dropped when she remembered that was the tone she had set for Facebook messages. Shit! Chantelle was trying to get ahold of her.
Chloe went over and picked up her phone. She looked at the little Facebook message icon in the corner. She already had a bad feeling. She knew without looking that it was going to be bad news. Her hand was trembling as she clutched the phone. Maybe Chantelle just wanted to say hello. Maybe she only wanted to know how Chloe was doing. She’d sent her messages before, just to see if her friend was okay. It was the timing of this one that bothered her. Chantelle knew how anxious she was about Jesse being released so soon. She wouldn’t just send her a message for no reason during this time. She would know that it would worry her. There had to be only one reason she was contacting her.
Chloe pressed the icon and the message came up on the screen. As soon as she read it she could feel the panic building like an unstoppable snowball in the pit of her stomach. Her heart sped up and she felt a shot of adrenaline surge through her veins. Her head suddenly felt like it was going to explode and she thought that she might throw up. She started pacing the room. She had to, she couldn’t sit still. The adrenaline was urging her to run. She glanced at herself in the dresser mirror. A fine sheen of sweat had beaded along her upper lip. She started trying to talk herself down, but as soon as she’d voice a positive thought, her mind would shoot it down with a negative. Life as she knew it would soon be over. Jesse was being released early. That meant in only a matter of a couple of weeks, if not sooner, he would be walking around, a free man. He would be free to continue his reign of terror over her or begin anew with another poor, unsuspecting woman, either way, the world would be a darker place. The reality of him walking the streets was about to send Chloe’s world into a tailspin. The end of Chantelle’s message had said, “I love you girl. Please Be Prepared.” How do you prepare to face a monster?
Chloe changed into her running clothes. She could feel the air in the condo suddenly sticking to her. It was thick and she felt like she could hardly breathe it in. She put on her shorts and tank top and laced up her running shoes and took off.
Tears slowly began to blind her as she ran. She wasn’t jogging and she wasn’t pacing herself. She ran across the beach until she reached the pavement and then through the parking lot and down the alley way. She ran like an Olympic champion at the sound of the start gun and she continued to quicken her pace until she was sprinting. The pounding of her running shoes resonated off the walls of the narrow alleyway with an echo that matched the throbbing of her heart inside her chest. The grief and the fear didn’t dissipate, but instead they seemed to become thicker and more cloying as she ran.
Chloe was miles from home before she finally had to stop. The adrenaline surge that had spurred her on was beginning to ebb and her lungs were burning like someone had lit a match inside of her chest. She stopped in a little grass courtyard alongside a large church. She had to clutch onto a tree to keep from dropping to the ground. She stood there panting and gasping for breath and almost as soon as she regained control of her respirations, she began to heave.
Chapter 6
When Chloe finally made it home on shaky legs and with nothing left inside of her but the fear, she hobbled into the bathroom and leaned against the wall as she turned on the shower. She stripped off her clothes and she didn’t look back into the mirror as she slipped out the contact lenses. She didn’t want to look at herself. She didn’t want to see the fear in her eyes. She reached behind her, groping on the counter for her case. When she found it, she slipped the lenses inside of it and stepped underneath the warm water.
She stood with one hand pressed against the cool tile as the water cascaded down over her head and back. She was concentrating on her breathing now, trying to get her emotions back under control. She couldn’t let him do this to her again. He’d won once before...never again. She didn’t know how long she stood there like that, but the warm water finally started to run cold. She washed her hair and soaped her body quickly and by the time she stepped out she was feeling almost human again. She looked up into the mirror at last. She’d gotten so used to the blue eyes that the brown ones that stared back at her now were almost an anomaly. She reached for her case and slipped the blue ones back on. Now when she looked into her own eyes she saw Chloe...strong, capable, fearless...at least that’s what she wanted to believe.
Before Lexi got home to take them to work, Chloe took out her journal and began to write:
June 21
I got a message from Chantelle today. It seems that Jesse is getting out early. In two weeks he will be walking the streets and somehow I have to learn to live with that. I have to. I read somewhere that Jim Morrison said, “People fear death even more than pain. It's strange that they fear death. Life hurts a lot more than death. At the point of death, the pain is over.” He’s right; death is the one thing that everyone is afraid of.
How many times did I resist the urge to slice my own wrists while my father or Jesse weren’t around? How many times did I long to just put an end to it all once and for all? I fear death somehow more than I fear the pain that has been inflicted on me. I fear death more than the thought of Jesse finding me. I’m not sure how that makes sense...but it must be true, because instead of running straight into the ocean and allowing myself to be sucked down into a cold, watery grave, I choose to live another day wracked with fear and built around the pain. I choose to live this empty life so the only logical explanation for it can be that I fear death.
Chloe was not in the mood for this shit. Lexi had asked her once on the way into work what was wrong. Chloe had told her not to ask again. Lexi knew her roommate well enough to know that was her one and only warning if she didn’t want Chloe to tear her a new asshole. When they got to the club, Lexi headed straight for the bar. Chloe grabbed her wrist and stopped her.
“Hey, I’m just having a really shitty day. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
Lexi patted her arm and said, “Thanks, it’s okay. I hope it gets better.”
Chloe looked around at where they were at and laughed. “Doubtful, but thanks.” She left Lexi at the bar and headed back to the dressing rooms where she was confronted by at least a half a dozen well-oiled and at least partially naked asses. She rolled her eyes. She was sick of seeing so much skin. She could go the rest of her life without seeing a single tasseled nipple.
She made her way to the back where her locker was and as she got ready she let herself listen to the mindless chatter of her co-workers in order to keep her mind out of the place where it wanted to go...Jesse and his impending freedom.
“I made nine hundred dollars last night in two hours,” Jasmine was saying. Maybe Lexi was right and that was where her tips were going.
“Doing what?” Delilah asked her.
“Dancin’ fool, what do you think?”
“I’m thinking none of these cheap fools that come up in here are gonna be paying nine hundred dollars for just a dance.”
“You sayin’ I’m doin’ somethin’ I ain’t supposed to be doin’?” Jasmine asked her.
“No honey,” Delilah said in that sweet, little girl way of hers. “I’m just saying to be careful. I don’t want to see you hurt, or without a job.”
“Roxi ain’t gonna fire me. She knows this sweet ass is making her a fortune.” Jasmine had that partly right. Roxi knew full well which of her girls brought money into the club. She was a master at spotting them and r
ecruiting them right off the street...or in a diner as the case was with Chloe. The part she had wrong was that if she was doing what Delilah insinuated then Roxi would fire her “sweet ass” in a heartbeat. Chloe kept her mouth shut. She really didn’t care what Jasmine chose to do and she really didn’t care if she got fired.
“Delilah’s just giving you some friendly advice,” Margo said, once again coming to the younger girl’s rescue. “You’re new here and sometimes the smell of the money can cause you to get carried away...and into a whole mess of trouble.”
“I don’t need y’all’s advice,” Jasmine said, “I got this,” she patted her ass with her left hand and “These” squeezing one of her boobs with her left. “I’ll be just fine.”
Chloe prided herself in being able to mind her own damned business. She had too much business of her own to mind to be sticking her nose into other peoples. Maybe it was just her screwed up mood, or maybe she was just really sick of girl’s like Jasmine having no clue at all that someday those tits are going to sag and that ass will spread...and even if it doesn’t, or you pay someone a lot of money to put them back where they go...you’re not going to be twenty-five anymore. These old perverts had no interest in looking at a forty year old woman shake her ass, no matter how good that ass may look. She heard the snort come out before she could catch herself and suddenly all eyes were on her.
“You got somethin’ to say?” Jasmine asked her.
Chloe stopped and looked at the girl. She was really spoiling for a fight, but she wasn’t going to pick on someone that she could so easily hurt. That would make her no better than Jesse. “No Jasmine. I don’t have anything to say other than what Delilah already told you. Be careful.” She closed her locker and left the dressing room. She really needed a smoke. She stopped at the bar and Lexi laid them up on the counter. Chloe reached for them and as she lifted her arm she felt something brush up against the side of her breast. She turned to see a fairly nice looking man about thirty year’s old sitting on the barstool next to her.
