Chapter Seven: The Common Street Whore

Angel was right about the man. He had offered her and Emily drugs, but then expected rough sex. There were many times during their intercourse that Angel thought he was going to seriously hurt her. He would choke her, cut off her air supply until she was blue in the face. She would grab at his wrists, trying to get him to let go, but it was useless. He would let go of her and she would quickly catch her breath before he would give her a hard smack across her face. He would bite and pinch and twist her nipples until she yelped. At one point he rolled her over and shoved himself deep in her backside without warning. She almost screamed and she fought back tears. She couldn’t say she wasn’t used to this kind of treatment, because quite frankly, she was. She had no heart in what was happening, and at this point in her life, she didn’t really even care. Her tears, although they were simply her body’s natural reaction to what was happening, would only fuel this guy. So she fought them.

He had grabbed a fistful of her hair and was continuously pumping into her without care or concern for her. He sped up, forcing her face into the bed as he finished inside her.

The whole ordeal lasted a little over an hour.

He groaned as he pulled away from her. She collapsed on the bed, panting and wincing. He rolled her over, grabbing her by the chin and forced himself into her mouth. “Clean it off whore.”

She obeyed until he was too sensitive to let her continue. He left her to clean herself up as he poured himself a glass of some kind of alcohol and jumped back in the shower.

Angel sat up. She dragged herself to the kitchen sink where she quickly splashed water on her body, gently rubbing between her legs, letting the water soothe and clean her. She toweled herself off with a small hand towel before putting her clothes back on and headed around the partial wall to check on Emily.

“Emily…” Angel’s eyes widened a bit when she saw Emily. The girl was high.

Emily was standing on the couch, arms spread out, head back, and was spinning in circles. She was laughing and giggling, and her hair was a mess. Angel looked down at the coffee table, most of the lines were gone. She growled.

The man came up behind Angel and laughed, “looks like someone is having fun!” Angel’s body stiffened, but otherwise she gave no response.

She watched Emily dance around a bit longer before she picked up Emily’s bag and checked her pocket to make sure the man’s payment was still there. “Ok Emily, it’s time to go.” She grabbed Emily by the arm and attempted to pull her off the couch and to the door.

Emily stumbled, giggling as she tried to stand properly. The man laughed with her. “Awe come on Ang” Emily complained, shortening Angel’s name as if they had known each other for years “don’t be such a downer. Stay for the party!”

Angel growled, letting go of the girl and letting her fall to the floor “this isn’t a party Em” she mocked, “let’s go!”

Emily looked at the man, who told her that she could stay as long as she wanted and ‘party’ with him. She bit her lip, smiling teasingly at him.

“Emily!”

Emily giggled at the man, waving as Angel dragged her to a standing position and out the door.

Emily was giggling and tripping over thin air as Angel dragged her down the hall to the elevator. Once in the elevator, Emily hung herself on Angel, trying to kiss her and laughing with Angel pushed her away.

Angel dragged the girl out of the hotel, embarrassed as the hotel staff watched, gawked, and glared at them as they left. She dragged Emily down the street and into a vacant alley.

“Emily get a hold of yourself!” Angel shook the girl a bit, trying to pull her down from her high. She knew if Rich found out the girl was high, or had been high, they both would be in a lot of trouble.

Angel growled and began to drag the girl back down the street. She would have to walk the effects off of Emily. But that also meant there would be no more clients tonight. Angel couldn’t leave Emily by herself like this, and she couldn’t drag her along with a client like this either.

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They walked for a while, Emily slowly sobered up from her high. The effects still lingering a bit, but she was acting more like a normal person.

Angel took her to a McDonald’s, she sat the girl down at a table then went up and ordered a hamburger and drink for the girl. She knew the food would help sober the girl up quicker, and absorb some of the cocaine in her system.

She watched the girl eat, silently thinking. Emily was going to crash soon, and she needed to be in a safe area when she did. The post effects of cocaine could be deadly; paranoia, anxiety, restlessness, all potentially deadly to experience on the streets.

She had to call Rich. The house was the only safe place for Emily to be when she crashed. Angel would have to plead Rich not only pick them up and take them home, but that any punishment he was going to dish out, would wait until Emily was completely sober.

Angel reached into her vest pocket and pulled out a small cell phone. Rich equipped his girls with cell phones so they could stay in contact with him at all times. The phone was for emergency purposes, and Rich kept tabs on what the girls used their phones for.

Angel dialed Rich’s number.

“Hello?”

“Rich, it’s Angel.”

“What’s up, girl?”

“I need you to come pick us up.”

“Why? What happened?”

Rich let a hint of concern be heard in his voice. Angel wasn’t sure if it was because Angel never called him to come pick her up early, or because he thought something was wrong with his precious minor.

“Emily took some drugs while I was with a client.”

Silence.

Silence was never good with Rich. It meant he was mauling over the situation, allowing his anger to build and burn.

“She can’t be on the street right now, Rich. She’s gonna crash soon, and I can’t work with her tagging along in this condition.”

“Where are you at?”

“The McDonald’s on High and Stewart.”

“Sit tight, I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

The phone clicked. Angel returned to watching Emily eat.

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When Angel saw Rich’s truck pull up in the parking lot, Angel gathered the trash and threw it away, then returned to pull Emily to her feet and out of the restaurant.

She opened the back passenger door to Rich’s truck and half threw, half shoved Emily inside. She shut the door and hopped in the passenger’s seat next to Rich.

Rich threw the truck in gear and drove out of the parking lot. They sat silently for a while as Rich drove. Angel couldn’t even look at Rich, she was disgusted and disappointed with him for bringing Emily into this life, and furthermore, she knew she had let him down.

Emily wasn’t the only one in trouble.

Angel glanced at Rich, then quickly turned to Emily when she heard the girl start to hyperventilate and scream.

“Emily, calm down! It’s ok!”

“What the fuck did she take?” Rich yelled over the girl as Angel tried to reach back to soothe the girl.

It wasn’t working. Emily was hysterical, screaming, crying, panting, and thrashing about the back seat.

Angel crawled over the console and into the back seat, next to Emily, who was now screaming in terror at Angel. Angel tried to comfort Emily, but the girl only lashed out, scratching Angel down her forearms.

“Emily! Calm down!” Angel grabbed the girl by the wrists and held her still. She pushed the girl against the seat and crawled on top of her, restraining the hysterical girl.

“What the fuck did she take?” Rich repeated.

“She snorted a bunch of coke” Angel responded as the girl began to relax into a ball of sobs and whimpers.

“Crack isn’t a hallucinogen,” Rich stated.

“I doubt she’s done it before, Rich.” Angel crawled of the girl and just held her as she sobbed and whimpered. Angel looked up, she was concerned for Emily, and as she locked eyes with Rich in the rear view mirror, she became even more concerned.

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Once back at the house, Angel helped Emily inside as Rich held the door open.

“Take her upstairs.”

Angel helped the girl upstairs and laid her down on Rich’s bed as instructed. She pulled off the girl’s shoes, shirt, pants, and socks, leaving her sobbing in her bra and underwear. Angel turned to Rich, who nodded at the door.

Bowing her head, Angel walked out of the room, shutting the door and down the stairs. She sat on the couch and turned on the TV. Tears streamed her cheeks as she tried to tune out Emily’s screams.

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A few hours later, Rich came down and gently shook Angel awake from her spot on the couch.

Angel jolted upright, turning to look at the stairs with concern for Emily.

“Shh” Rich ordered, making Angel turn back to him “she’ll be ok. In the morning you’ll go and clean her up. She has tomorrow off.”

Angel glanced at the clock above the TV. It was four in the morning. Rich glanced at the clock and revised his statement.

“At eight you’ll go clean her up. She has today off to rest. You and I will stay here to keep an eye on her. Tomorrow we take her to Frank’s.”

“What?” Angel was a bit mortified.

“I was wrong about her. She doesn’t need guidance, she needs to be broken in.”

Angel’s eyes widened.

“You will come with me and drop her off. She’ll be there one week, and then you will come with me to pick her up.”

Angel couldn’t argue with him. She knew the consequences of arguing. Working at the brothel wouldn’t be nearly as bad as the way Angel was “broken in,” but it was still bad enough. Angel bowed her head, she blamed herself for what Emily was going to go through.

“Now, let me see your arms.”

During the battle in the truck, Emily had clawed Angel’s arms to the point of shedding blood. Honestly, Angel had forgotten about her arms once they got home. She held out her arms to him, palms up. The long scratches across her forearms were just starting to scab over.

Rich sighed, inspecting her arms. “Come on, let’s clean those up.” He led Angel upstairs to the bathroom and sat her on the edge of the bathtub. He squatted down and scrounged around in the cabinet under the sink. He withdrew a bottle of peroxide, gauze, Neosporin, medical tape, and two white cloth wraps. He set the items on the sink before retrieving a hand towel from the hall closet. He sighed as he sat on the toilet and reexamined Angel’s arms.

“Hold them over the tub.”

Angel obeyed and he gently poured peroxide on her arms. She watched as they bubbled slightly as the peroxide killed the bacteria in them. Rich poured a bit more on them before using the hand towel to dry her off. He then spread Neosporin on the cuts and covered them with gauze. He used the medical tape to secure the gauze and then wrapped the cloth wraps over her arms.

“You know the routine. We’ll check them again tomorrow and redo your bandages.”

It was a routine they were both used to. When Angel first came into Rich’s house, she was manipulative towards her own body. She would have night terrors so extreme and vivid that she would claw at her own flesh, in her sleep. Occasionally Angel would get so depressed she would cut herself. She had since gotten out of her manipulative habits, but that by no means she no longer had the terrors and depression.

Rich was aware of it all, and would dress her wounds and give her a Seroquel, then send her to bed to sleep off her depression. The Seroquel would make Angel numb. Completely numb. Angel wouldn’t even be able to think straight. Angel was able to keep herself from harming herself simply because she didn’t like the Seroquel.

Rich had Angel tell him what had happened, in full detail. By the end, Rich shook his head in disappointment. “This isn’t your fault Angel.”

Angel knew this all along, but was shocked to hear Rich say it. She followed him as he went back downstairs.

He sat on the couch and motioned her to sit next to him. She obeyed, her body tense as she still expected to be beaten for the night’s incident. Rich wrapped an arm around her shoulders as he began a movie from Netflix. She felt him pull her closer to him, and soon he was pressing her head towards his lap. Instinctively, she began to undo his pants.

He swatted her hands away. She looked up at him, confused at his actions. He glanced down with stern eyes, “relax.”

Angel lowered her head and rested it in his lap. She watched to movie for a bit before her eyes became heavy and she drifted to sleep.

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Rich woke Angel at seven. He instructed her to take a shower and get something to eat before tending to Emily.

In the shower, the steam filling Angel’s mind and swirling about inside her, she thought of Emily. She wondered what would have made a girl join this life. Of course, she knew the answer; a shitty home life. There wasn’t a girl in this life who didn’t have their own sob story about their life before selling sex. After a while, the stories all overlapped. They blended and blurred together until it was one long, continuous sob story. Angel and Emily were no different than the other girls, and the other girls were no different than them. They were all easy targets for people like Rich to prey on and play on their horrible home life. Each girl was promised a bright future, full of lavishes and luxuries. More of the fake façade of this life.

Angel turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. She toweled herself off and dressed before heading downstairs.

Rich had a box of cereal on the table. He sat, reading the newspaper, sipping coffee, and shoveling cereal into his mouth.

Angel sat across from him, pouring her own cereal. She realized the sight of them must have been something else. To any normal person they probably looked like a normal couple eating breakfast. Any normal person would assume he would fold up his paper, kiss her goodbye and leave for work, and she would stay and clean the house like a good housewife. If only they knew. If only they knew that she was his slave, selling her body for his pleasures. If only they knew of the beatings and yelling. To the outside world, nothing was wrong. The outside world was blind.

Angel and Rich ate silently. When they had finished, Angel took their bowls to the sink and scrubbed them clean before placing them back in the cabinet. Rich knew she was stalling.

“Angel.”

She paused.

“Go clean up Emily.”

She bowed her head. She pulled a bowl back out of the cabinet and filled it with warm water. She picked up a washcloth and headed upstairs.

Emily was still asleep when Angel walked into the bedroom. Slowly, Angel pulled back the blanket to reveal Emily’s body.

It took every ounce of strength for Angel to keep from letting the tears fall down her cheeks, but inside, she was sobbing for the girl.

Emily was laying on her stomach with her hair covering her face. She was naked. Her body was bruised, and dried blood coated her inner thighs.

Angel gently moved the hair from Emily’s face, “Emily? It’s time to wake up sweetie.” She tried to be as calm and gentle as possible.

Emily’s eyes fluttered open as she let out a soft whimper.

“Shh, just relax. I’m going to clean you up a bit, ok?”

Another whimper.

Angel dipped the cloth into the bowl of water and ever so gently, she rubbed down Emily’s back and legs. She tried her best to rub away the dried blood, but Emily would need to shower to get rid of it all. She helped Emily roll onto her back and Angel gently rubbed down the front of her body.

“Let me get a towel. I’ll be right back.”

She stood and left the room, closing the door behind her. Rich was waiting in the hall. Angel said nothing as she opened the hall closet and pulled down a towel from the top shelf.

“How is she?”

“She’ll be alright, no thanks to you.”

Rich growled, “what?”

Angel didn’t respond, making Rich growl again. He put out his arm in front of her, preventing her from returning to the bedroom. “What did you say?”

Angel glared at him “you raped her didn’t you? Her legs are caked with blood!”

Rich grabbed her by the throat “I’ll take what is mine and I’ll do as I damn well please, and no common street whore will argue with me.”

Angel continued to glare.

Rich glared back for a moment longer before releasing her to return to Emily.

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Emily stayed in bed the rest of the day. Angel took food to her, but she refused to eat. Angel knew the girl would need all the strength she could get to survive the brothel, but she could not force the girl to eat.

Rich relaxed in front of the TV most of the day. If he cared at all about the girl upstairs, he did not show it. He was much too interested in his TV shows to give much thought to anything else in the world.

Angel sat on the stairs. From there, she would be able to hear if Emily needed her, and would be available if Rich called. She stared out into space as her mind flashed back to her childhood with Frank. Caught in her memories, she didn’t even realize tears were falling from her eyes.

Rich glanced over his shoulder at her, “what’s the matter with you, girl?” But she did not respond. He was not even paying attention to her. She didn’t matter to him. She was just another paycheck. A common street whore.

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