Wake Up Call (3 page)

      He smiled playfully, eyes dancing with amusement, as he leaned across the counter. "My name is Jace and I am the owner. What issue can I assist you with?" he replied, tone professional.

      I glowered at him and laughed in his face.
He might be handsome, but he isn't fooling me.

      "Really? Do you want to run and grab the real owner and stop playing these games! I'm not in the mood."  I felt bad for acting so rudely, but I was fed up. He probably recognized me from the club, and found it entertaining to mess with me.

      His eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that astounded me. "Is there something that I can help you with?" he replied, again. The warmth from his sweet breath covered my face as he spoke, each syllable as smooth as silk. I focused on his full lips in a pointless effort to distract myself from my raging heartbeat. It didn’t work.

      I backed away, suddenly embarrassed at how close we were. I pressed a hand to my forehead and sighed. "You know what, never mind. I'm not really that hungry anyways." I turned on my heel and hastily made my way out of the door and into the sunlight.
What a waste of time!

      I was about to cross the road when I felt a big, firm hand grip my arm. I pulled away and spun around, confronting the owner of the diner. "Don't touch me...”

      Jace stood erect with a serious look on his face. "Let me at least make sure that you eat." He looked down at my arm and noticed my heavy breathing, before releasing his grip. He smiled and pointed toward the door. "Come back inside and I'll cook your food myself, just the way you want it."

      I fixed him with a long, hard stare before I let my hunger win. I wasn't sure that I could even manage to make it back home without getting something in my stomach. "Okay, fine. I'll come back in, but only because I need to eat." I brushed past him and made my way back inside and over to the same table that I had been seated at originally.

      Jace plopped down in the booth across from me and smirked. He raised an eyebrow, as if waiting for me to speak.

      "What?" I questioned, wondering what he wanted.

      He let out a cheerful laugh as if it was the stupidest question he had heard all morning. "Well it might be easier for me to cook you something if I knew what you wanted." His muscles flexed through his fitted thermo as he ran his hand through a crop of messy hair.

      I felt myself bl
ush. "Oh yeah. Let’s make it simple this time. I’ll just take corn beef hash and a coffee," I mumbled. "A large coffee.

      He nodded in understanding, stood up, and smiled at me. "I think I can manage that." He laughed playfully and walked away while I attempted to keep my cool.

      Several minutes later, Jace returned with a plate full of steaming food. He set down the plate in front of me, smiled, and was about to walk away before I waved my hand.

      "What's all this?" I questioned. “I told you just corn beef-"

      "Just eat it," he said firmly. "I had a talk with the waitress and she explained everything to me. Boyfriend issues. It’s no excuse." He leaned against the table and crossed his arms across his chest. "I sent her home; she's usually one of my best waitresses."

      I poked my fork into the thick hash and looked up at him. "See, that's why I don't do relationships."

      He looked me in the eye before walking away. "Neither do I."

                                                     ~•~

      The long walk home from
The
Indy Go
was tiring enough, so when I finally arrived at my door to find the newest eviction notice implicitly warning me that I would be ‘Kicking dirt on the streets’ if I didn’t pay my overdue rent pinned up, it rounded off a fantastic day.
Just great. You have got to be kidding me.

      I stared at the pink sheet of paper held up by a rusty, metal pin. I hadn’t even realized that it was already the 10th of September and I was still $400 behind from last month’s
rent. Ryan Smith, the owner of
Hang 'Em Low
apartments, had made it very clear that if I didn't catch up, then I would be kicked out, and – as he had rudely informed me – ‘homeless’.

      Frustrated, I yanked the freshly printed-paper off of the door, shoved my key into the lock, and turned before running inside and slamming the wooden door shut behind me. I exhaled in defeat, leaning against the door as the thick tears began to stream down my face. I grabbed my head in both hands and allowed myself to fall to the floor – a weeping mess, with no one to turn to except a man who I had sexually exploited. I wiped away a tear and stared down at the paper in my hand with blurred vision before wrinkling it up and tossing it across the room.

      I had no idea what I was going to do if I couldn’t get the money on time. I knew I needed the money though, and fast – the deadline was tonight.

      Sighing, I stood up and pushed myself against the door for support before pushing away and sprinting to the bathroom mirror. Streaks of mascara smoothly ran down my long, wet lashes and covered my red and puffy face. I grabbed a clean towel and started scrubbing it away as roughly as I could in a ridiculous attempt to remove the darkness - inside and out. I scrubbed and scoured my face numb.

      I sat on the edge of the sink and stared at myself until my vision blurred. It had to of been for hours. I hated going to the strip club, but I had no choice.

     
I pushed myself away from the mirror and slowly walked to my bedroom, head low. My alarm clock read 4:38 p.m. - the club wouldn’t get busy until the evening, but I would stay all day and night if that were what it took.

      I threw every garment I owned out of my creaky, old dresser and onto the wooden floor around me. To fix this disaster, I needed the sexiest outfit I owned. As dirty as it sounded, the men always scoped the strippers out when arriving to see how they
looked before the show. It seemed the less you wore, the more they paid. It disgusted me, but I was desperate.

      After changing into a slinky red dress complete with golden heels and heavy makeup, I called for a taxi and waited patiently outside my apartment, arms crossed.

      The same taxi driver as before showed up. He wore a huge grin on his face and his eyes danced with recognition. 

     I glanced at him and smiled before jumping into the backseat and digging through my purse for cash. To my embarrassment, all I could find was a creased $5 bill. I suddenly remembered that I had left all of my money in Caleb’s car so that he could get me a money order for rent,
to try to catch up a bit.

      I looked up from my purse to see the old man looking at me through his mirror, eyes suspicious.

      "Is there a problem, ma’am?" he questioned. His voice was a bit nervous as he kept looking between the road and me.

      I hastily closed my purse and slammed my hand against my forehead. "I only have a five dollar bill," I murmured, knowing
that I was screwed.

      The taxi driver pressed on the brakes and placed his arm behind him on the black leather seat. "You're going to have to get out then, ma’am," he mumbled. "I'm sorry, but no money, no ride." His eyes were full of regret as he stared back at me, and I knew that he was only doing his job.

      "Okay." I closed my eyes and exhaled before tossing him the $5 bill and jumping out of the taxi. If I walked fast enough then I would make it to work in thirty minutes.

     
The streets were abandoned in the area of town that I was in, and the lack of streetlights made my heartbeat race.
It’s not that far. It will be fine.
I reminded myself.

      I willed my feet to move as quickly as possible until the back parking lot of the club came into sight, neon lights bathing the collection of cars in a gaudy light.

      I slowed down to catch my breath when all of a sudden I heard footsteps behind me
. Is someone following me?
I ran – heels crunching on the ground – as the footsteps sped up behind me. I attempted to turn around to get a glimpse at my pursuer when suddenly my right heel bent to the left and I came crashing down to the ground, knees scraping gravel. I moaned in pain as I looked above me to see an older man – mid-forties - standing above me, piggy eyes boring into mine. It was the same man that grabbed my arm the night before.

      He ran his tongue over his cracked bottom lip and smirked as he stumbled to the left. "You're that hot little stripper from last night," he slurred. "Oh yeah. I remember you." He paused to pull his long beard out of his mouth. It was cak
ed with drool as he spit.

      I cowered away from him and attempted to crawl backwards on the ground, red dress riding up my legs. "Get away from me," I screamed furiously. "They're expecting me any minute!" I knew that it wouldn't scare him off, but I hoped that it would at least slow him down and make him think.

      "Fuck them," he replied, spitting on himself. "I like pretty little girls like you. Let me take you home and you can give me a private show." He reached down, gripping my fragile arm in his strong hands. "I can pay you more than those jerks inside." My body pressed against his as he yanked me to my feet, grabbing a handful of my hair and yanking my head back so that he could force his mouth to my neck.

      My body instantly started quaking as the tears escaped from my eyes and ran down my face. I pulled away from him with as much force as I could muster and swung out, fists connecting with the side of his big head. "I don't do private shows. Get your filthy hands off me!" I screamed, my long hair flying, as I struggled to get away. "Let go!" I narrowed my eyes and elbowed him in the stomach, but it had no effect on his sturdy build
.

      He gripped me tighter and grabbed my face in his big hands. I cried out in pain before he clamped his cruddy hands over my mouth to silence me. I shook uncontrollably.

      He put his hairy face inches away from mine and flicked my forehead with his finger. The contact stung, causing me to yelp. "Listen here, you nasty little whore," he screamed, spitting in my face. "If you can get on stage and get naked for a bunch of no good losers then you can come to my home and put on a good show for a single man with a shit load of money." He paused to laugh. "Oh I get it. You like it. You like being a whore and having all of those eyes on you. Don't you?" He pushed his crotch against me and gripped my face tighter in his hands before crushing his oily, chapped lips to mine.

      I gasped as he slipped his tongue into my mouth - roaming and rubbing. The familiar taste of alcohol and cigarettes were so strong that it made me gag. I could taste the salty tears as they ran down my face and dripped onto my mouth as he continued to kiss me.

      Suddenly, I saw a figure yank the man away from my helpless body and push him down to the ground. My eyes blurred as the creep attempted to stand back up, but the figure pressed his foot onto his chest once more, forcing him back to the ground. The old man cried out, before crawling away on his hands and knees.

      I frantically wiped the tears out of my eyes to see if I could catch a look at my rescuer, but it was no good, the tears wouldn't let up.

      The tears continued to run down my flushed cheeks. I exhaled in relief – I was safe, finally. I fell back down to my knees and placed my hands over my face. It didn't even matter who I was now left alone with. As long as that creep was long gone, I had a feeling that I would be okay.

      I felt a hand rest on my shoulder, fingertips smooth on my exposed flesh. My first instinct was to shake the hand off, but when I heard a familiar voice, I realized it was Jace. Somehow, I could breathe again.

      "Let me help you," he whispered. "I won't hurt you." He kneeled down in front of me and gently grabbed my face in his soft, cool hands. I looked up slowly to find myself staring into the same emerald eyes that I had first seen at
The Indy Go
. The softness in them made me weak.

      Instead of jerking away, I found myself falling into his firm chest as another round of helpless tears came, hot against my skin. As much as I hated being touched - with Jace, it didn’t bother me at the moment. In fact, as I lay in his arms I felt safe for the first time in a long time. I was still alive and it was thanks to him. He didn't have to help. No one did, but he still chose to.

      After a few minutes of silence, I collected myself and looked up at him. He was staring down at me with caring eyes. "Thanks," I whispered. "Thank you for helping me. You didn’t have to do that." Suddenly, I felt terrible for the way I had treated him earlier. "About this morn-"

      He put a finger to my lips to silence me. "I'm not worried about it and you shouldn't be either." His intense eyes lowered to
my bruised leg and widened as he noticed the red blood trickling down it. "Shit! Let me clean you up." He grabbed my arm and gently helped me to my feet. "I'll take you to my house and clean you up."

      I backed away from his grip and shook my head. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't leave. I had to get that money. "No! I can’t. I have to go to work. I need to pay my rent. Its past due and-"