They finish their conversation. Theo sits down, cuts into his tuna, and starts eating. Mike slowly walks over to me. His hand is painful on my shoulder. He leans down and speaks low enough so Theo can’t hear.
“Theo will be meeting with me tomorrow morning,” he whispers. “He’s very important to the new operation. His company is very important to the new operation. If he gives me any hint suggesting he is not one hundred and ten percent satisfied with the way this evening goes...” His grip tightens so hard on my shoulder I see stars. “I don’t think I need to remind you of anything, do I?”
“No, Sir,” I whisper.
“Excellent. Excellent.” He pats my back and speaks louder. “You two have a pleasurable evening. You hear?”
Oh, yes. I hear loud and clear.
Chapter Nine
It’s early morning by the time Theo finally rolls over and goes to sleep, but I’m not tired. There’s not a part of me that isn’t aching, yet it isn’t pain that keeps me awake. It’s the realization deep within my soul that if I don’t leave, Mike will kill me one day.
When I was new in the business, I thought the danger would come from one of the men he set me up with. After all, you never fully know the danger that might reside in a person. Now, with years behind me, I believe I have the ability to read people.
Police officers worry about people shooting them. Firefighters might get caught in an uncontrollable fire. Hell, from what I've read, even CEOs have dangerous jobs; a good number of them die from coronary disease. How many prostitutes die on the job? I bet no one has ever run those stats.
Because who would miss a whore?
I stare up at the ceiling, and not only do I hate my life, I hate myself.
So now what? I ask myself. Are you going to just keep on doing what Mike wants you to do, or are you going to make something happen? Take control of your life?
It’s fear that keeps people where they are. Even if things are bad, at least they’re familiar. I keep staring at the ceiling, and it finally hits me that if Mike’s going to kill me anyway, I might as well die trying to get away. Beats putting up with men like Theo every day and night of my life until Mike decides I’m not even good for that anymore.
It’s a morbid thought, but it’s what makes me creep out of bed and pull on a pair of jeans and T-shirt. I don’t take anything else. If everything goes as planned, I won’t need my things anyway, and if it ends badly... well, it won’t matter.
I don’t even take the room passkey with me. I tell myself there’s no going back. I know exactly where I’m headed and what I’ll find.
For the first time in ten years, I start to feel alive. Excitement pounds through my body, and I feel so light I swear I float down the elevator and toward the main entrance. No one even looks twice at me. Before I exit, I stop below one of the numerous video cameras and flip it the bird. “Fuck you, Mike,” I mouth.
The temptation to run is strong, but I walk slowly to my destination. Behind the hotel, a small building lent itself to storage. I have in my possession a key, thanks to one of the security guys.
The truth is, I’d stolen it from him. But seriously, even if you list out all my vast number of sins, I doubt that one would even make the top twenty.
While Mike never paid us anywhere near what he said he would, he did on occasion pass us cash. And cash adds up over ten years. I don’t use a bank because one of the girls did that and her account was mysteriously emptied. Likewise, Mike would find it if I kept it in my apartment, after all, the place is technically his. As I let myself into the building, I try to calculate how much money I’ve saved. My best guess is ten thousand. Nothing to sneeze at, surely, but a sad, sad amount when you think long and hard about it. Was I truly only worth a thousand dollars a year?
The metal door closes behind me with a clang, and it takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the low light. There’s a small flashlight that I hid on a previous visit behind some boxes and I smile as my fingers wrap around it. The faint light trembles as I aim the flashlight to the row of crates along the back wall. Ten thousand dollars isn’t a fortune, but it’s enough for a plane ticket out of Vegas and rent money for a short while.
I tentatively push aside the crate in the far right corner, and the entire time my mind spins with all the places I can go. Not the South. Maybe someplace completely different, like Indiana. I can start over in Indiana, maybe work on my GED, get a job at a clothing store, a grocery store, a bookstore! My heart pounds as I imagine my new life.
With the crate out of my way, I wiggle the loose wooden wall panel. Will I settle in a big city, like Indianapolis, or go somewhere smaller? I can’t decide. Maybe I’ll rent a car once I land and check out a few places.
Hi, my name is Athena and I’m from Indiana.
I like the way it sounds in my head, and I giggle at the possibilities.
There’s a hole a rodent made years ago behind the loose panel, I reach into it, feeling around, but my fingers only brush empty air. I frown and shift my weight. Wiggle my fingers deeper.
Nothing.
Oh, no.
The flashlight falls from my hands and I struggle to fit both hands into my hiding spot. It has to be there. It just has to be. Ten thousand dollars doesn’t just disappear.
“Be there. Be there. Be there.”
I rip the panel off and try to pry up the floorboard. Maybe it somehow got buried. Mentally, I calculate how long it’s been since I’ve added money to my nest egg. Three weeks ago. No longer than four.
My fingers finally settle on a piece of paper. Heart beating wildly, I jerk it out, grab the flashlight, and read.
Do you think I’m stupid, Athena?
“No.” The paper slips from my hands. “No, no, no, no, no.”
I drop to the ground, choking back tears I know are going to fall anyway. Who would take my money? Who even knew where it was? The security guy I lifted the key from, Mike, or Harris?
In the end, it doesn’t matter. Gone is gone, no matter whose hands it went through to get that way. My fingers scratch uselessly at the dusty floor, and hot tears stream down my face. Indiana will never happen. There will be no bookstore, no rental car. There is here and me and the men. I’ll never leave.
“I don’t want to be here,” I half whisper, half choke. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know it’d be forever.”
I’m not sure how long I sit there. By the time I finally emerge from the dark storeroom, there is a hint of the coming dawn teasing the horizon. There are people around, but no one seems to notice me, though I know I’m a sight with the puffy, red eyes.
I don’t know where to go. I can’t go back to the hotel. I can’t even go back to my apartment. So I walk. And walk. With my head down, I can be anyone, going anywhere.
I wish I could walk forever. If I had my ten thousand dollars I would. But thoughts of my lost money bring the tears, and I sniffle, trying in vain to hold them back.
I look up to make sure I’m alone and unnoticed and find I’ve walked further than I thought. The hotel stands miles behind me, and tourist traffic has dwindled down to almost nothing. I take stock of my surroundings and head to a nearby public park.
I tell myself I’ll just sit and think for a bit. Try to decide what to do while not thinking about how I lost ten thousand dollars overnight. But, of course, that isn’t going to happen.
“It’s Vegas, right?” I ask out loud.“Happens all the time. Probably a lot more than ten thousand.”
I laugh, but it’s not a happy sound that comes out of my mouth Matter-of-fact, it scares away the flock of pigeons who boldly approached to see if I had food.
“Sorry,” I say, as they flitter away. “I didn’t have anything anyway. Can’t afford it.”
How is it possible one person can make so many mistakes? I catalogue them: leaving for Vegas in the first place, trusting Mike, thinking my money was safer in the storage building and not my apartment. I sigh. No one’s doing but my own. Make your bed and you have to sleep in it and all that jazz.