“I’ll continue waitressing,” I said about to leave when she grabbed my arm.
“You’ll have to lose your virginity sometime, and this way you’ll be rich enough to make your own way in life.”
“Is that what you did?” I had to ask.
Her eyes stared at me without blinking. “I would have, had it not been robbed from me. I had a shitty homelife.”
“Your father?” My spine shrivelled, sensing where this was going.
“Stepfather. I was thirteen. He ripped it out of me for free.” Her eyes had a haunted look.
“Shit. I’m sorry.” I touched her arm.
Deflecting my sympathy, her face hardened again.
She didn’t do pity. Nobody understood that better than me. After drowning in self-pity throughout my teens, I’d spent the last six years buried in denial. Because if I allowed myself to dwell on what happened back at home, I would have descended into that bottomless black hole of depression.
“I’m strong.” She squared her shoulders. “My life’s good now. I’m only telling you this because the whole man-woman thing is complicated. Men want young pretty things, and for virgins they’re willing to pay big. These are very rich men. This is an exclusive club.”
“I’ll go back out and keep working.” I mirrored her cool tone and walked off.
Inside of me, however, emotion tangled me in knots as my disturbing, unwelcomed past filled my thoughts.
My mother might as well have pushed me out that door herself. But she’d never been a good mother, so her not giving a shit about my safety came as no surprise.
Only I wasn’t ready for the wide world. I’d had plans. Plans to finish my studies. All that crumbled along with my sanity.
Alone in the world from the age of eighteen. One obstacle after another. Talk about crappy karma when it came to people. And already, I’d met my share of problems. Often men who offered me everything if I opened my legs. Even hot guys, that girls oohed and aahed over, barely raised my temperature, which was parked at cool.
And now here I was again, having to maintain a level of dignity, surviving in a jungle of men hungry for sex with someone young enough to be their daughter, or even granddaughter.
Doing my best to fight back nausea, I went back to waitressing. Between the odd pinch on the bum, I managed to deliver trays of drinks without spilling them. And after a while, I got used to being leered at. I even had a drink with a couple of men, which came with a fifty-pound tip.
Then the parade started. One of the waitresses came and stood next to me and offered me a drink from her tray.
I took it. Having a few drinks had helped get me through this night, and now I only had ten minutes to go before my shift ended.
The girls came out one by one. In bra and thongs. They were mostly slim and very young.
I leaned into the girl and said, “Do you think she’s even eighteen?”
She shrugged. “No idea. I don’t question what goes on in here. I just do my job. Occasionally I fuck the odd client when he’s paying well.”
I studied her for a moment. It was like she’d admitted to something mundane like shopping for shoes.
Maybe I needed a counsellor. No. I needed a counsellor. Just couldn’t afford one. Men freaked me out.
I liked the look of some boys, and handsome actors were nice to ogle, but older men with that hungry look in their eyes turned me to ice.
One girl bent over and opened her legs, and the bidding started. It went to fifty thousand pounds, and she was sold to a fat old man.
Ick.
“He’ll be a quicky.” The waitress in a tiger-print teddy giggled.
My legs began wobbling, and everything swirled around me. “I feel like I’ve been drugged.”
“You have.” She pulled a wicked smile.