by Laura Day
There was a bar set up to one side, with tables on the other and a dance floor in the middle. Maple stood by the entrance, craning her neck as she tried to spot Brook.
“Hi there,” a familiar voice said from behind her.
“Brook!” Maple greeted, as she turned around and gave her friend a hug. Brook was wearing a skin-tight black mini with a jacket thrown over it. Her red hair fell loose around her head and the club’s flashing lights hooded her pale blue eyes.
“I just got here,” Brook explained. “I was afraid I was going to be late.”
“Right on time,” Maple smiled. “Shall we get a table?”
Brook nodded. “Right after we get some drinks.”
Minutes later, with drinks in hand, Maple and Brook settled at a table as far away from the noise of the dance floor as they could possibly get. Brook took a large gulp of her drink and then turned to Maple. “It’s been ages,” she said brightly. “How have you been?”
“Busy,” Maple said. “I work like crazy... but it never seems to be enough.”
Brook breathed out deeply. “I know exactly what you mean.”
“Where do you work?” Maple asked.
“At this little diner downtown,” Brook replied. “But it took me ages to find a decent job in the first place. I bounced around for a long time until I found Tony’s.”
“And how do you like waitressing?”
“It’s hard work,” Brook admitted. “But the tips help a lot. What about you? Where do you work?”
“In a gym actually,” Maple answered. “I’m sort of like the janitor there.”
“One of many?”
“The only,” Maple sighed.
“Wow,” Brook said, raising her eyebrows. “I think you’ve got me beat.”
Maple laughed. Then her expression smoothed out, and she leaned in with a serious look on her face. “But honestly... how are you?”
Brook’s expression changed immediately, too, and Maple could see that she was canvassing through the last year of her life. “It’s been hard,” she said. “I was in a dark place when we both made that pact to leave that life behind us.”
“Did you regret leaving?”
“Sometimes I did,” Brook nodded. “It was good money, and after we left, at my lowest points, sometimes I thought that maybe I should have just stuck it out at Chelsea’s.”
Maple remembered how it had been towards the end. She had been extremely unhappy, and it had come to a point when she could barely look herself in the mirror. Sometimes—in one day—she would massage between five to ten different men, and each time, she left feeling worse about herself.
“Didn’t you remember how it felt?” Maple asked. “To stand there like some... unfeeling object while all these disgusting men wanked off in front of you?”
“It wasn’t that I didn’t remember,” Brook clarified. “It was just that...”
“Where you were seemed worse in the moment than where you’d been then,” Maple offered.
“Yeah,” Brook nodded. “But then I forced myself to think of Charlie and it put things in perspective for me.”
“Charlie?” Maple asked in confusion.
Brook’s pale blue eyes seemed to get a little paler. Maple had always thought of Brook as the epitome of beauty. She had a mix of features that were both classically beautiful and mysteriously exotic. When they had worked at the massage parlor together, she had been Chelsea’s most popular girl.
“He was one of my regular clients,” Brook said. “He was some big business executive in his mid-fifties. He was built, good looking, polite. I thought he was one of the better clients to lay on my table....”
“What happened?” Maple asked.
“He got possessive,” Brook replied. “And kinky... kinkier than I was comfortable with. And when I tried to stop it, he got angry.”
“Did he hit you?”
“No,” Brook said. “It never got that bad... but he did threaten to.”
“You should have told Chelsea,” Maple said immediately.
Brook shook her head. “I did. She told me to do whatever he wanted me to do, or she would fire me. And that was when it hit me. Just because I wasn’t walking the streets in high heels, didn’t mean I wasn’t a hooker. I was the same as any one of those girls, except I thought I had made a better choice.”
Maple nodded. “That’s why you came to me.”
“I knew you were unhappy,” Brook said. “And I also knew that we were both too scared to leave on our own. So I figured... we’d give each other the strength we needed to make the decision and walk away.”
“It was a good plan,” Maple said. “And you’re right. I might not have been able to leave without you.”
“Did it pay off for you?” Brook asked.
“I think it did,” Maple nodded. “I’m still living in my car and scrubbing down toilets seven days a week but... I can look myself in the mirror... at least most days.”
Brook smiled. “You give that scar too much power, Maple,” she said gently. “I’ve always said that.”
“Can you blame me?” Maple asked incredulously. “Look at the size of it. I may as well name it.”
Brook shook her head. “People have scars. It’s part of your story. And it sucks... but you’re just gonna have to live with it and it’ll be a whole lot easier if you stop fixating.”
“Easier said than done.”
“Isn’t everything?” Brook asked, reminding Maple of her own words to Jax the previous day.
“I met this guy,” Maple volunteered, feeling the sudden need to talk about how her life had been the last few weeks. She felt strangely nervous, as though sharing the story would make it more real.
“Oh?” Brook asked with interest. “Do tell.”
“It’s only been a few weeks... but he’s pretty great.”
“How did you two meet?” Brook asked.
“He trains at the gym where I work,” Maple revealed. “He’s an MMA fighter.”
“MMA?” Brook said, obviously impressed.
“Well... illegal MMA,” Maple corrected. “But he hopes to make it legit one of these days.”
“Good for him,” Brook said. “So... how hot is he?”
Maple laughed. “Seriously fucking hot,” she said honestly. “He’s six foot three and completely covered in tattoos.”
“Wow.”
“And he’s a gentleman,” Maple said. “You wouldn’t think so to look at him, but he is.”
Brook smiled. “Your eyes light up when you talk about him.”
“Do they?” Maple asked. “Depending on how you look at it... that might be a bad sign.”
“Because you’re at risk of getting hurt, you mean?”
“Yeah,” Maple admitted. “But I suppose it’s too late for that now.”
“I would say so,” Brook nodded. “Is there anything about him that... might possibly lead to you getting hurt?”
Maple bit her lip. “Well...”
“Oh no.”
“It’s not massive,” Maple said quickly. “I’m just worried... he’s had a rough past, too, and sometimes I feel as though...he puts himself in unnecessary situations.”
“Like?”
“Street fights.”
“Oh,” Brook’s tone suggested that she understood completely. “That’s... not ideal.”
“He’s a really great guy.” Maple felt she had to make sure Brook understood that. “He really is; it’s just that this part is worrying me a little.”
“You don’t have to explain to me, Maple,” Brook assured her. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
“Sure.”
“Do you love him?”
Maple hesitated. “I haven’t really thought about the specifics of how I feel,” she replied honestly. “Can you even be in love so fast?”
“Forget timing,” Brook said with a wave of her hand. “People always act like there’s some time quota you need to fill before your feelings can be counted as real. Th
e way I see it, you feel the way you feel when you feel it. Does that make sense?”
“Loads actually,” Maple said with a small smile.
Brook nodded. “My point is that... love can take years or it can take hours... who can say when the right amount of time is. You just have to go with your gut.”
“Well, my gut... is totally infatuated with him,” Maple said with a small sigh. “And it’s not just the sex, though the sex is amazing. It’s the conversations, too. I can talk to him for hours and not get bored. I can watch him train and be completely mesmerized. I can watch him sleep and feel this... crazy sense of contentment that I’ve never felt before.”
Brook smiled. “It sounds like love to me.”
“He has a fight next week,” Maple said. “And I’m sick with worry about it.”
“Why are you worried?”
“Because the guy he’s fighting happens to be the man that put his sister in hospital and sent him to jail for two years.”
“Whoa,” Brook said, as her eyes widened in alarm. “That’s not good.”
“I agree.” Maple nodded. “But he’s determined to fight.”
“Have you told him how you feel?”
“I tried,” Maple said. “But I couldn’t... I just... I know how much he needs to do this.”
“Do you want a future with him Maple?” Brook asked.
“I think I do,” Maple said, as she nodded.
“But you’re scared?”
“I just... it’s taken me a long time to pull myself out of a certain kind of life. I don’t want to go back to that dark place again. And I’m worried that Jax may be wrong for me. I’ve tried to make peace with my demons, but he’s still chasing after his.”
“I think this is more about his decision than yours, Maple,” Brook said gently.
“I know,” Maple said. “Things are so much simpler when you only have to worry about yourself.”
“That’s true,” Brook nodded. “But sometimes it can pay off.”
“That’s what I’m hoping for,” Maple said with a small smile. “I might just have to manage my expectations.”
“Why?” Brook asked. “You took a risk once before and it paid off.”
“Which risk is that?”
“You left Chelsea’s,” Brook pointed out. “And before that you left your sadistic boyfriend. Do you remember how scared you were when you made those decisions?”
“I was freaking terrified,” Maple said, as she nodded.
“Exactly, because you had no idea if your life would be better or worse because of it. But in the end... it all worked out.”
Maple smiled. “It’s in the process of working itself out.”
Brook laughed. “That’s true of every single person in the world.”
“What about you Brook?” Maple asked, feeling slightly lighter after having spilled out her worries and fears. “How has your life been?”
“It’s been... challenging,” Brook said. “But at least it hasn’t been boring.”
Maple smiled. “Have you met anyone?”
“I did actually,” Brook nodded. “He was one of the regulars at the diner. His name was Carey. He used to come in every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. He’d sit in the corner booth and drink his coffee, and then he’d order either the Spanish omelet, the house special, or the beef burger.”
“Does he still?” Maple wondered.
Brook smiled sadly. “Not anymore.
Maple could tell immediately from the way Brook spoke that she had loved this man. It was in the little details she could remember about him, the way her descriptions were detailed, layered, and punctured by a tone that contained hurt.
“What happened?”
“I told him... about my past,” Brook said. “It got to the point where I felt it would be dishonest to keep it from him. He was sympathetic about my mother’s drug habit, he was outraged by my molestation... but he couldn’t wrap himself around the erotic massage. No one had forced me into it, he said. I had made the choice to pimp myself out and that he couldn’t look past.”
Maple looked down. “I’m sorry Brook.”
“Yeah,” Brook nodded. “It took me a long time to get over him. He was... different, you know? He was the kind of guy who could help make my life better.”
“Why?” Maple asked. “Because he was straight laced, because he did everything by the book, because his life didn’t fling him off course?
“I suppose...”
“If he couldn’t handle your past, and if he couldn’t understand the reasons that drove you to make certain decisions, then he was not the right guy,” Maple pointed out.
Brook nodded. “I know that. It still hurts though.”
“I know.”
“Have you told...?”
“Jax,” Maple supplied for her. “And yes... I did tell him. He was... very understanding. He didn’t make me feel ashamed of myself at all.”
“Well then I will believe you when you say he’s a good guy,” Brook said.
“He told me that once this fight is over he’s going to try and stay out of trouble for me,” Maple said cautiously, hoping that saying the words out loud wouldn’t undo them.
“And do you believe him?” Brook asked.
Maple sighed. “I don’t know if I believe him or... I just want to... really, really badly. It’s hard sometimes, to separate hope from reality.”
“I know what you mean,” Brook agreed. “Listen, I want to hear more details about this sexy MMA fighter of yours. I’ll just pop into the ladies room for a minute.”
Maple nodded, and Brook rose and made her way over to the other side of the club. She disappeared between floods of people until Maple lost sight of her flame bright hair.
“Excuse me?” a deep voice said from over her left shoulder.
Maple turned around to see a tall waiter with an impressive Afro with a small tray in hand. He was carrying a fresh drink, which he set down on the table in front of her.
“I... didn’t order another one,” Maple said, looking up at him.
“I know ma’am,” he said. “It’s complimentary, from one of the gentleman by the bar.”
“Oh,” Maple said, craning her neck to try and see whom it was.
“He might have left already,” the waiter said. “He wanted me to tell you that he simply appreciated a pretty face.”
Maple raised her eyebrows. “I think you’ve got me confused with my friend. She’s probably whom the drink was meant for.”
“Nope,” the waiter shook his head with certainty. “It was definitely you. He described you perfectly.”
As he walked away, Maple turned to her fresh drink. She felt a little bubble of pleasure at the thought that a stranger could find something beautiful in her. She wondered if the lights in the club had somehow masked her scar and that was why he had considered her beautiful. Maple decided not to dwell on it. She lifted the glass to her lips and drank rapidly, realizing how thirsty she was from her conversation with Brook.
Within the next minute, Maple started to feel a little strange. She felt a queasiness build up in her stomach, and she started to notice that everything around her was getting a little fuzzy, as though nothing was able to hold its shape anymore. The lights were so intense that they started to give her a headache. With her temples aching and the flashing lights burning her eyes, Maple started to feel as though she was falling.
“Hello, there you,” a familiar voice called to her before the large form of a man slipped into the seat that Brook had vacated. It took Maple a moment to realize that it was Conor. His features were somewhat distorted, and his dark eyes looked almost completely black.
“You,” Maple said. The word was clear in her head, but it came out slurred.
“Me,” Conor agreed. He smiled so wide that Maple could see all his teeth. He had three cavities at the back. He got out of his chair and wrapped a hand around Maple, pulling her to her feet.
She tried to fight against him, but it was
as if she had lost all control over her limbs. She hung at his side, moving when he wanted her to. He was moving her away from her table and towards the club’s exit. Maple tried to scream, but somehow the sound was lodged in her throat, as though she had lost the capacity to speak.
“No,” Maple said weakly, but again the word came out with barely a sound.
“Sorry. Excuse me.” Maple heard Conor say, as he half carried her out into the comparative quiet of the street. “Sorry about that... my girlfriend’s had a little too much to drink.”
“I’m not his girlfriend!” Maple wanted to shout. “He’s drugged me.” But all she seemed capable of making were a series of unintelligible grunts and sounds.
Conor walked her to a car and pushed her into the backseat while he got in the front and started driving. Maple could feel panic rise like cold ice inside her, but she was unable to do anything about it. Her consciousness kept fading in and out, and before she knew it, she found herself lying flat on a rank bed in what looked like some seedy apartment.
Maple tried to blink away the haze that surrounded her, but there was something that was keeping her from being completely aware. She tried sitting up a little. The room she was in was dirty; it smelled of cigarettes, alcohol, and dirty underwear. Maple caught sight of a large moving shadow and realized too late that it was Conor.
“Lie back, little lady,” Conor said, as he pulled off his shirt. “We’re going to have some fun.”
Maple shook her head. “No, no...”
“It’s best not to fight it,” Conor said, and then he laughed cruelly. “Not like you’ll be able to—even if you wanted to.”
Then he pulled off his trousers, and Maple’s stomach lurched uncomfortably. His penis was hard and erect. In Maple’s eyes, it looked downright sinister. All she could see was that unfamiliar penis coming at her like the barrel end of a gun. Her body wanted to run, but she could feel a weight over her, preventing her from making any sudden movements. The most she could do was squirm away from him.
Conor grabbed her by the legs and pulled her down until he was settled right between her legs. His penis was touching the inside of her thigh, and Maple realized she was shivering violently.
“Calm down, girl,” Conor said. “Let’s save all that for the finale shall we?”
