Trafficked Love Ch. 20
Introduction:
— THIS STORY CONTAINS EXPLICIT CONTENT AND VULGAR LANGUAGE. It is fictional and does not depict real people or events. — Call girl, Angel, believes there’s nothing nothing more to life than what she is doing now. But when she falls in love with an undercover cop, and things get heated between her and her pimp, Angel searches for answers. Is this really all she is destined for? Could she escape if she wanted to? Would the outside world accept her if she left this lifestyle behind?
Angel was barely inside the door when Rich, who kicked the door closed behind her, had an arm around her waist, with his face buried in the crook of her neck. He was kissing, and gently biting her shoulder. Angel was tense, and tried to pull away, but he kept pulling her back. His hands were roaming her body, and one hand fumbled its way to her groin. He was drunk, and looking for pleasure.
They had just returned from a private party with Bishop, and Rich had a bit too much to drink. The stress of listening to Bishop try to seduce Angel, made Rich down drink after drink.
Angel heard hushed giggles, and whispering to her right. She turned to see two girls sitting on the couch, in the living room. They were watching Angel and Rich, and whispering. Another giggle, before they shot Angel a smirk.
Rich’s free hand was tugging at the zipper on Angel’s dress, but he was too drunk to figure out how to work it.
Angel moved his hand from her groin, but he was quick to grab her by the throat. She tensed, and he gave her a hard smack to her backside.
More giggles from the living room.
Angel reached back and gently grabbed Rich’s groin, not surprised to feel a growing bulge. “Let’s go upstairs baby,” she whispered to him, gently pulling away from him.
He needed no coaxing, as she led him upstairs.
In his room, she shut the bedroom door as he flopped down on the bed. She unzipped her dress, and slid out of it, letting it fall to the floor. In her black bra and underwear, she helped pull his shirt off as he kicked off his shoes. He unbuckled his belt and undid his pants, sliding both his pants and boxers off.
Angel gently pushed him back, onto the bed, and straddled him. His hands were on her hips, as he pressed himself to her. She leaned down to him, and he buried his face in her neck, kissing her and gently biting.
He reached up and unfastened her bra with one hand, fumbling to pull it away from her. She slid her way out of it, and let him toss it to the floor. Quickly, he buried his face in her chest, inhaling deeply as his hips pressed up to her.
A loud buzz echoed through the room as Rich’s phone vibrated on the nightstand. He growled and lashed out to grab it, but in his drunken state, he missed, sending the phone flying to the floor with a loud thud. He groaned.
Angel leaned down and picked the phone up. She was going to hand it to him, but noticed him lying back on the bed, his arm over his face. She turned his phone on, and opened the new message.
“Natalia didn’t show up at the club,” she informed him, turning the phone back off.
He didn’t respond.
Angel slid off of him and dug out some clean smelling clothes from a pile of laundry on the floor. She pulled the clothes on, and grabbed her bag from the far corner.
“Where are you going?” Rich asked through slurred speech, his arm still over his face.
“To fill in for Natalia.”
“No, stay,” he slurred.
“Club’s going to be mad if they think you stood them up a dancer. Besides, that’s money pissed away if no one goes.”
He groaned again, “fine, I’ll drive ya.”
Angel was already pulling his truck keys out of his pants pocket, “you’re too smashed to drive.”
He sighed.
She turned to leave. As she was shutting the door behind her, she heard him.
“Who’s running this shit? You or me?”
She paused, but said nothing before closing the door.
Downstairs, she called to the two girls on the couch, “hey!”
They turned quickly to look at her.
She nodded towards the stairs, “daddy could use some love tonight, ladies.”
When the girls started up the stairs, Angel opened the front door. She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and pulled the door shut behind her, locking it with Rich’s keys.
-+-+-
“Hey Brik,” Angel smiled at the bouncer.
“Hey there, Angel!” He seemed genuinely happy to see her.
She stopped and pulled the hood of her jacket off her head before stepping out of the way for two men entering the club. “How’s business today?”
Brik shrugged, “eh, not as great since that shooting a couple months back, but the warm weather is pulling the people out, so it ain’t too bad.”
Angel nodded knowingly, “the girls making much?”
“Enough to keep the wrath of the heavens from raining down.”
Angel saw the irony to his statement, and acknowledged it with a slight chuckle.
As a few more people entered the club, Angel sighed, “well, I should get in.”
“Make it rain sweetheart.”
Angel let out a loud laugh before walking through the door.
-+-+-
After her dance on stage, Angel lingered around the bar. There were a few new girls that Rich seemed to have brought in, grooming them in the club’s setting, and no doubt to then graduate them to working the streets. It’s how he groomed all his girls, well, all except Angel.
Overhearing a conversation between Tallia, an eighteen year old with a thick Ukrainian accent, thick wavy blond hair, and big blue baby doll eyes, and a much older man at the bar, Angel slid herself between the two, taking the drink out of Tallia’s hand.
“Sorry about that, sir. But Tallia is a working girl tonight, and our girls don’t drink on the clock.” She slid the drink back over to the man. “If you really like her, and want to give her a nice treat, how about a nice tip for her hard work tonight?”
The man was unsure what to say at first. He was so taken back by Angel’s disruptence, that he simply fumbled for his wallet and handed the blond a twenty dollar bill.
“Thank you for being so understanding, sir. Enjoy the rest of your night.” Angel then turned to Tallia, and ushered her away from the bar.
Obediently, Tallia stood and made her way through the crowd with Angel right behind her.
“Rule of thumb, never drink alcohol on the job. If Rich catches you drinking, or finds out that you were, you won’t like what happens,” Angel leaned over and whispered into Tallia’s ear.
Tallia stopped dead in her tracks, and turned around, giving Angel a bright blue, wide eyed, frightened expression. “He send me back to Ukraine?”
Angel had to consciously force her eyes not to roll. If that was the worst she could think would happen, she would have a rude awakening. “Yes,” was the only response she could give.
Tallia was still as frightened as ever.
“Look, I’m not going to tell him about this. You didn’t know. But now you do, so no more drinks.”
Tallia nodded, still looking a bit frightened, “no drinks.”
-+-+-
After her second dance, Angel was making her way to the restroom, when another young girl confronted her. Angel tried to move around the girl, but the girl kept moving back in front of Angel.
“Look hun, I really gotta piss, so if you can move…”
“Here,” the girl held out a wad of cash in front of Angel.
Angel looked down at the crinkled bills, then up at the girl. She had dark brown hair, brown eyes, and olive skin. She had a narrow face, and pronounced cheekbones.
“Tallia said I should give you this.”
Angel wondered if she could make out a faint accent in the girl’s voice. German? No matter. What mattered was that the girl was holding out her earnings to Angel.
Angel moved the girl to the side of the little hall that led to the restrooms, where Angel would much rather have been. Angel took the crinkled bills from the girl and smoothed them out between her fingers. She counted the bills, and raised an eyebrow. “This just from tonight?”
The girl nodded, and Angel recounted the bills just to be sure. “This is good. This is really good.” She glanced up at the girl, noticing the dark puffy circles under the girl’s eyes. “What’s your name?”
“Brynn.”
Angel nodded, “Brynn, I like it.” Angel counted out ten dollars from the girl’s earnings. “Alright Brynn, you think you can walk down the block and get yourself a burger and soda?”
Brynn nodded, putting her hand out.
Angel handed her the money, “the restaurant is closed, so you’ll have to walk through the drive through. The girl’s do it all the time. Come find me after you’re done eating.”
Brynn nodded and turned to walk through the back exit.
Angel folded the remaining bills and slipped them in the back pocket of her cargo pants. If Brynn had really made that much in one night, she was going to be a cash cow. She would be a popular one with the other pimps. Angel would have to keep an eye on her; keep her safe. She sighed, and then headed to the restroom.
-+-+-
Upstairs, Angel sat with Riggs and his girl Candy. He was one of the few pimps she trusted. He was best friends with Rich, and treated his girls in the same fashion. Riggs had just finished telling Angel about his newest girl, who he was hoping to get clean from a habitual drug use.
“Um, miss Angel?”
Angel turned and looked up at Brynn, who had just returned from eating.
The girl held out a handful of money; the change from her meal.
Angel took the loose change from the girl. “Keep the cash. All the girls should keep some cash on them, just in case. I’ll take the change, since you have nowhere to put it,” she looked over the girl’s booty shorts, bra, and fishnets.
The girl nodded, slipping the cash into her bra.
“Sit down,” Angel scooted over on the bench seat, noticing Brynn’s wobbly legs.
She sat, and Angel could tell the girl was grateful to get off her feet.
“How long you been working tonight, Brynn?”
“Since three.”
Angel looked over to Riggs, who checked his watch with a surprised expression.
“It’s just past one.”
Angel turned back to Brynn, “you’ve been on your feet nine hours, sit for a while.”
“It was slow for a while, and we’re short a dancer.”
Angel nodded, “you been working the floor too?”
Brynn nodded.
“How old are you?”
“I’ll be eighteen next month.”
Angel’s jaw tensed. She hated the fact that Rich was recruiting underage girls. But she had no say in what he did, and she couldn’t control the girls’ decision to fall into this lifestyle.
Angel reached down and grabbed Brynn’s left ankle. She brought the girl’s leg up, and set it in her lap before slipping off her high heel. Angel’s brow furrowed, seeing the blisters on the girl’s foot. “You need shoes that fit Brynn.”
Brynn didn’t respond.
“What size shoes do you usually wear?”
“Eight.”
Angel glanced up at the girl, “these are two sizes too small.” When the girl didn’t respond again, Angel added, “I’ll take you back to the apartment tonight. I’ve got a pair of heels you can have.”
“Rich wants me out tonight.”
Angel gave the girl a hard stare, “he’ll get over it. You’ve worked long enough tonight, and you need a decent pair of shoes if you’re going to do anything else.”
Riggs chimed in, “a girl needs a good foundation to build on. You sure as hell ain’t gonna make any money on the street if you can’t walk it.”
Brynn bowed her head.
“Give me your other foot.”
Brynn brought her other foot up to Angel’s lap, and watched as she took that heel off too.
Candy, who had been quietly enjoying her drink, grimaced at the sight of Brynn’s feet, “girl, you gotta soak those is warm water. Put some baking soda in there and rub it over them blisters.”
Riggs gave her a questionable look.
“What?” She asked, annoyed.
“How you know baking soda good for blisters?” Riggs questioned.
“Cause I used to do that to my baby boy’s bath when he had diaper rashes on his ass.”
There wasn’t a response for a long while. Then Riggs finally leaned over in his seat, balancing his elbows on his knees, “how come I don’t know you gotta kid?”
Candy shrugged, “you ain’t never asked.”
Brynn looked up at Candy, “where’s your son now?”
“Services took him when they found out I worked the street,” she took a swig from her drink.
Brynn lowered her head again.
“They give him to his daddy?” Riggs asked quietly.
Candy’s lips pouted a bit, “I ain’t know who the damn dude is. They gave him to some nice family and I ain’t seen him since. He’d be eight next month though.”
Riggs shook his head in disbelief.
“It was before you, daddy,” Candy reassured him.
Angel chewed on her lip. It was a risk all the girls took in this life. Any one of them could get knocked up. Most pimps were quick to drive the girl to the local clinic, or take them to some back alley quack with a coat hanger. Most of the girls who were drug addicts would miscarry, or the hospital would take the baby if they happened to actually make it that far in the pregnancy. Others, like Candy, had their children taken by child services, because the theory is that a woman in such a life can’t take care of herself, much less a baby.
Personally, Angel had only had to deal with the issue once, back before Rich claimed her. She’d miscarried, and she honestly thought it was better that way.
“Well aren’t we all nice and cozy?” Bishop’s voice echoed through Angel, making the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She looked up at him, her eyes cold.
He smirked down at her, “where’s daddy?”
Angel didn’t respond.
“He let you off your leash?”
“Rich is with some of his new girls tonight,” Riggs clarified.
Bishop’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “and he promoted you to Bottom Bitch?”
Angel’s jaw clenched, making Bishop laugh at her tension.
Bishop sat down next to Brynn, putting an arm around her shoulders, “I don’t recognize you. You must be new here.” He pulled the girl closer to him, inhaling the scent of her hair.
Angel stood, nodding for Brynn to scoot over so Angel could sit between the two of them.
“Aww, what’s wrong? Afraid I’ll steal her away?” Bishop snickered.
Angel rolled her eyes, “more like afraid she’ll pass out from the amount of cologne you reek of,” she retorted.
Bishop’s eyes narrowed, “you got a mouth on you.”
“Usually,” Riggs muttered, making Angel smirk at him.
“Does your daddy know you have such a lack of respect?” Bishop questioned.
“My respect is earned,” Angel snapped, “and it’s just something about your misogynistic, narcissistic attitude that really brings out the bitch in me.”
Her retort was met with a slap across her cheek, as Bishop snarled at her. “You want misogyny, well you’re in the right place. This industry is built on it; seeping misogyny from its cracks and folds, oozing misogyny from its pores; heaving hot misogyny on its foul breath.” With every word, Bishop closed the distance between the two of them, until he was nose to nose with him.
She didn’t flinch; looking him square in the eyes. “You kiss your mother with the same mouth you’ve buried between some thirteen year old thighs, hug her with the same arms that break bones and crush souls. I may be drowning in misogyny, but you’re the rotting flesh it pours from.”
Bishop laughed, leaning away from her, tossing his head back in a loud, bellied laugh, “such a shame to waste such a beautiful piece of meat with such a foul mouth.”
“What’s a shame is how close your own demise is, yet you’re blind to see it.”
Bishop narrowed his eyes.
“Your power relies on two thing,” Angel snarled, “lower pimps who want to be you, and girls who want to end you.”
“If you’ve got something to say to me,” Bishop leaned in towards her, his voice just shy of a growl, “you better say it quick, otherwise it sounds a bit like a..”
“Conspiracy?” Angel interrupted. “The difference is, a conspiracy is just an idea.”
Bishop’s eyes narrowed, his lip curled in a crude snarl, “are you threatening me?”
Angel glared at him, “I’m not stupid enough to threaten you.” She stood abruptly, ushering Brynn to her feet and past Bishop, before following the girl. She stopped on the other side of Bishop, glaring down at him, “it’s a promise.”
