Red Collar (7 page)

He watched her sleeping soundly beside him. Her body was tucked onto his sides, her head resting on his shoulders. Her dark hair was splayed over his pillows and he couldn’t resist entwining his fingers through its soft strands.

He didn’t understand why she was an escort. She was well-educated and
held a good secretarial position until she lost it a few months back. Had she been working the escort field on the side to her regular employment? She certainly carried herself well when he first saw her with Madame Madge a week ago. But why was she so tight when he had taken her only an hour ago? If she was a well-recommended escort as Madame Madge had stated, she should never have been almost as tight as a virgin. Recollecting her climax itself, hardened him once again.

He looked down at her and caressed her shoulders with his fingertips. But he was determined to take it slow with her. She had put up enough resistance in the two days he had met her
. It was enough to know that if he didn’t play his cards right, she would slip from his fingers, preferring to run in the opposite direction to his bed. And in it was where he wanted her.

*****

Kate opened her eyes slowly, only to notice the rays of the morning sun streaming through the bedroom blinds. It took her a while for her mind to comprehend that she wasn’t dreaming.

Something sti
rred in the sheets beside her and when she turned, she found herself staring into the face of the man who ravished her, both body and soul last night. She flushed when she remembered how she had wantonly surrendered herself to him despite her so-called self values.

She watched him sleep
, his chest rising and falling to the rhythm of his breaths. Her eyes traced his well-toned muscled arms up to his face. He seemed so peaceful, quite the contrast to the man who frowned upon her constantly. A man with whom she had wrestled with emotionally last evening; a man who kept toe-to-toe with her in those emotional wrecking turmoil and who she ultimately lost her battle to.

She
slid out of the bed as lightly as she could. The last thing she needed right now was to confront him. She didn’t think she had the courage. How could she have given herself up so easily after telling him she was quitting as his mistress? Shouting it out rather, with every cell in her body silently commanding him to shove his offer as mistress up where it belonged.

She pushed the covers aside. She was naked as a new born baby. She darted a panicked look at Clayton, praying to dear God he was still asleep and then leapt for her dress. It was ripped! All that could be salvaged of it was its skirt.

She let out a silent profanity, one she often reprimanded Libby for and then pulled the dress on. She swung its strap around her waist and tied it to her sides like a belt. Tip-toeing to Clayton’s dresser, she picked out a tee shirt she believed could fit her. Straightening herself in the mirror, she hoped she could make a decent journey home without much attention. So much for throwing her own clothes in the trash, she huffed regretfully. She should have stood her grounds and kept them.

She tread out of the penthouse silently and then raced out of the building. In the open air, she breathed in the morning air of freedom.

The city w
as just rising from its slumber. A woman walked past her, giving her a curious look and then glanced at the apartment building.

Kate blush
ed, brushing her hair with her hands. She must look terrible in her make-shift outfit. It didn’t help at all that she was stepping out of a luxurious apartment block, her hair all tousled. It didn’t leave much to anyone’s imaginations of her night activities. She paled. She must look like a prostitute.

She hastened her steps to the next subway station. She needed to get away from Clayton Reid as quickly as she could.

*****

She walked in a trance back home. She couldn’t help castigating herself all the way home for sleeping with Clayton. How could she have stooped so low? Selling herself for sex? She wasn’t short of a pros
titute. She was one. Her eyes watered. As she reached her apartment building, she finally let her tears flow. Her soul and her conscience wrestled together, for she had enjoyed herself be taken by the one man she had thought she would despise for the rest of her life.

She leant against the wall of the staircase, trying to regain some stability
to her quivering self.

A thud of footsteps came rushing down the stairs and she turned away to
the wall to hide her tear- stained face.

“Lorenzo!” called the woman from upstairs.

“
Vuelvo
en
seguida
,” shouted back the young man. “I’ll be right back, mama!”

She heard him slow his pace at the stairs, feeling his eyes on her. She thought he had walk
ed past her because she heard the old wooden entrance door creak. But when she turned back to head up the stairs, he was standing before her, observing her inquisitively.

She stepped back in
alarm.

He leant closer to her and peered into her face, his forehead furrowed in curiosity. He reached at her with his fore-finger and caught a falling tear.

“You don’t want to lose that,
bella
dama.
They’re far too precious to waste on a
pendejo
,” he said, softly.

“
Pendejo
?”

He shrugged. “Politely speaking, a jerk.”

Her cheeks reddened. “How did you know?”

“I may be young,
senorita
. But it doesn’t take much to guess that when a woman as beautiful as you is crying on the landing of the staircase as early as six in the morning, it is usually over a man.”

She smiled, noticing that he
tactfully avoided referring to the state of her clothes. “Thank you.”

“
No
problema
. I have four sisters older than me and one
hermana
so I should know.”

“
Hermana
?”

“Younger sister,” he explained. “She is sixteen. Three years younger than me. Gives me a lot of trouble with the boys. I’m always beat
ing them up to keep them away from her.”

“She must be quite popular,” she offered, not knowing what more to say.

“
Si
,” he nodded, sadly. “More like trouble. Poor idiots don’t know that yet. But I’m actually doing them a favor when I scare them away from her.”

He said it so seriously, she couldn’t help blurt out a chuckle.

“She can’t be that bad,” she giggled.

“
Si
dama
,” he said. “She is.
Esta niña es un diablillo
. This one, she is a little devil.”

She let out a laugh and he smiled.

“That is better,
bella
dama
,” he said. “Your smile suits you.”

Somehow he
had comforted her for the present. But she knew Clayton would return to torment her once she would be alone again.

She gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m Kate.”

He arched an eyebrow. “I’m Lorenzo. But you must know that already. I think the whole building does. My mama screams it so much like it’s the next one hit wonder.”

“Lorenzo! Is that you down there? I can hear you,” the woman shouted from upstairs.

Lorenzo shrugged. “I told you. I dare say it rhymes too. I tell you, if she went professional with her rapping, we wouldn’t be living here.”

“Lorenzo!” his mother shouted again.

“
Lo siento, me tengo que ir
,” he mumbled. “I have to go. As much as I love my mama, I’d never escape from her clutches today if I don’t leave sooner.”

“You told her you’d be back,” Kate said, amused by the young man.

“Yes,” he grinned. “In the evening.
Tener cuidado. Quédese bella.”
  He smiled. “Take care and stay beautiful.”

*****

She trudged towards her apartment. Lorenzo had worked his charm and temporarily soothed her wounds. She had watched him escape into the cool morning, his bronzen skin shining in the golden rays of the sun, his lush hair bouncing as he strode away.

She sighed. She wished she was ten years younger. It was rare that such a man lived in the squalors of New York
City. Lorenzo was certainly a gem.

She opened her door and reality struck her almost immediately. The
TV blared through the door as her siblings sat mesmerised by its animation.

“You’re late,” said Libby, giving her an angry frown.

She sighed again. She silently swore at her lousy fate because the one person who needed to be hypnotised wasn’t.

“Not now, Libby,” she said, sullenly.

“Not now?” her sister mocked. “It’s past six in the morning. I thought
I
would have to make breakfast.”

Kate spun furiously. “And what if you did?” she spat out. “Would it hurt?”

“No, it wouldn’t. Haven’t I been doing it before you moved in with us? You’re all full of shit, you know that. You lecture us all about responsibilities and then you go trashing yourself all of last night!”

“I told you not to use that language with me, Libby,” Kate warned.

“Yeah, right!” Libby huffed. “My mouth may be not all clean enough for your standards but it’s you who’s the real bitch!”

Kate reddened. “You’re pushing it, Libby.” She walked roughly past her into the kitchen.

“Well, you are. You walk out of this apartment wearing a bitchy outfit, pretending you’re going to work and all. But all you were doing was partying. Whoever goes to work dressed like a skank! I’m not an idiot, Kate. I’m old enough to know what’s going on.”

Kate rubbed her throbbing temples. “If you think you’re old enough, act like it. Learn when to shut up.”

“By the way, that’s not the dress you were wearing. But what the heck is that? Is that a guy’s shirt? You were with a boy last night, weren’t you?” Libby ran her eyes down her dress, scornfully.

“Libby, please. It isn’t the time.”

“That’s where we agree,” Libby threw back sarcastically. “You can’t admit it, can you? You lied to us. Told us you were working but all you were doing was fucking!”

“Libby!” Kate swirled at her. “That’s enough!
One more word out of your filthy mouth and you will be sorry. Unless you’ve forgotten, it’s me that runs this joint!”

“Otherwise what?” Libby minced angrily. “You’ll send us to foster care? It would be better than this shithole!”

Kate moved threateningly towards her. “You don’t know what a shithole is, you ungrateful, unappreciative little wench. If there is anyone who I will be sending to foster care, it will be you. And it’s not as rosy as your imaginative mind thinks it is.”

“I
don’t care,” Libby said stubbornly, standing her ground. “I’ll be eighteen in three years. I’ll manage. Do us a favour and send me.”

“I will do you a favour and keep you. You don’t know what you want, you twit.
With that kind of attitude, you wouldn't last a week in foster care. Now, get out of my face, or I swear, Libby, I’ll rip every goddamn benefit you’ve been leeching off me, from you.”

Libby paled. She stamped her foot in frustration and stomped
out of the kitchen and into her bedroom.

Kate held onto the kitchen table and took in deep, steady breaths to calm herself. Hopefully, the misfortunes plaguing her morning had come to an end.

“It isn’t over yet, you know.”

She looked up at the thirteen year old blonde boy leaning against the kitchen door frame.

“Where have you been?” she said.

He shrugged. “Here. Watching you two squabbling as usual. I thought I might even get to watch a free chick fight.”

She smiled. “Oh, you’d like that, would you?”

He shook his head. “But every time you throw that reducing privileges line and she clams up immediately.”

She gave him a friendly thump on his arm.
“You could try talking to your sister.”

He grinned. “And get a mouthful of that? No thanks. I’m good.”

“Rudy, she might listen to you.”

“
Libby listens to
no
one,” he said with particular emphasis on the ‘no’.

“I need help, Rudy,” she protested, gently.

“Now help, I can do,” he said, surveying the ingredients for breakfast. “What do you need?”

*****

She stood beneath the gentle spray of the shower. It placated her mind, salving the pain in her soul. She held onto herself as she finally allowed herself to dispel her hurt through a silent, shattering weep.