Chapter 1

"Megan! Hurry up your father will be here soon. So get dressed. Nobody cares to hear his rubbish today." Brenda was so hypocritical. She would talk about Kyle like complete dirt, but the moment he walked in the same room as her, that rash smirk hopped onto her annoying face. It merely made me sick to the pit of my stomach. Even though she was a complete bitch, she was right about one thing. Kyle knew how to turn this household sideways from it already upside down position. Words could not write out my hatred from this irregular household.

I was about 14 years old when I lost my virginity to Kyle, my adoptive father.

It was a very traumatizing period in my life, but it was a something I had to do, according to Brenda. I still remember when she brushed and curled my hair and applied fake blush to my already damp cheeks. She said I had to do it. I had to save the family, and I loved my family. I would do whatever it takes to make life better; of course, they had done it for me. Now was my window opportunity to repay my much-owed debts.

I was the first to complete the task and then it was Jamie's turn. I could hear her light whimpers from the room that I had once sat in. Brenda had told me not to worry, but I knew those moans. They defiantly were not out of pleasure. When he finished with her, she was never the same. She did not talk to anyone but me. Moreover, if she had to speak to Kyle, she did only when spoken to and nothing more. She felt the same way about Brenda. She was no longer the confident and sunny girl who I had grown to love as if she was my own blood. I missed that girl dearly. 

Two weeks later I earned my first paycheck. 

Pembrook Pointe was the street I stood helplessly on my first night. It was bitter and damp from the rain earlier in the day. Nervous wasn't even close to what I was feeling. My first customer was a man no more than 35. He pulled up to me in a 1957 Viking Convertible, with jet back spoilers just under the trunk. It the glowered under the moon's refection, proof of a fresh red paint job. I could still remember his expression when the car slowly crept to a stop only a few feet away from where I stood. Pale white skin, uneven mustache, which complimented the musky fragrance that rolled of off his bowling shirt, the driver hung out of his window eyeing me as if I were a fresh piece of meat on a winter morning. My heart tripped over itself from beating so profoundly, when the subtle words rolled off of his tongue. 

"How much?" He spoke. His voice was so demanding and intimidating. It had caused me to take a few steps away from the car. Kyle had given me specific instructions on the prices of my abilities, and I tried my best to follow these guidelines. I cleared my throat and stood up straight, while involuntarily twirling my loose strands of hair around my quivering fingers. 

I gradually approached the car and gave him a confident response. "Forty-five, but it all depends on what you want." I gave him a seductive wink. He nodded his head and a devious grin molded onto his mug while I walked to the passenger door of his car. Quick, casual and simple, I was back to my post thirty minutes later.

"Meg!!! What are you doing sitting out here, and your still in you pajamas? Get up! Didn't you hear Brenda?" Jamie's constant nagging awoke me from my troublesome flashback. Jamie poked her head through the window that led to my hiding place, the fire escape. I looked around my surroundings, now noticing that the sky was a deep purple. A few clouds surrounded the white ball above my head. Stars pattered alongside the puffy cotton balls, lighting up the sky even more. Had I fallen asleep?

I rolled my eyes and quietly crawled through the windowpane into my foul bedroom. Jamie glowered in my direction. She had 'dumbass' scribbled all over her forehead. She placed her hands onto her petite hips and continued to stare at me for no reason at all. Jamie had lost some serious weight, due to our lack of income to even buy anything. Her thin figure could have quite simply blown away in the wind. Ok she wasn't that anorexic, but she was a few missed meals from knocking on its door. From time to time, we would go the whole weekend without food. Thank God for the public school system. 
I headed to my closet and fished for an outfit for later on tonight. Brenda and I had to pick up a double shift because Jamie's "friend" was in town. Brenda and Kyle put her on a new birth control so this was just the normal, but no one looked forward to her raging hormones and bipolar mood swings. Sadly, I had to be stuck with her because she was forced to stay in out room until everything was 'cleaned out'.

"I think you should wear the white tank top with the cut off jeans. That was always your favorite, right?" Jamie proposed from behind. She had wondered over to the bed we share and plopped down on top of the shaggy covers. I really was not in the mood for any sister-to-sister bonding, so she was pushing a few irritated buttons right now. Nevertheless, she did have a point. I grabbed the jeans and tank and threw them across the bed. Jamie propped on top of my bed and watched me wonder back and forth gathering the things to prepare for her job. She looked at me wryly, as if she was thinking hard about something.

 I did not really pay any mind to it. As I started to make my way to bathroom, adjacent from our bedroom, Jamie broke the silence. 

"Meg," she said but stopped. The hesitation in her voice was clear as day.

"What Jamie?" I nearly snapped at her.

"Do you like this life?" she nearly whispered.

"What do you mean?"

She shrugged her shoulders and glanced down at her fingers. "I don't know. Like are you happy with all this?" she motioned to the stained walls of the room we both shared. 

"Jamie, look around. Nobody is even remotely close to being happy. We have to bust our ass just to get a fraction of what we need to survive, let alone having to hear Brenda and Kyle's pesky complaints all day, every day." I could sense myself going a tad overboard with this. I took a deep breath and revised my response. "Why do you even ask?"

"I have been thinking lately, and maybe we should get away from this. I was at the library and I ran across this thing about emancipation and-" She stopped mid sentence when the sound of a door squeaked open from the living room. Kyle was home.

 "Oh crap." I grabbed my clothes from the bed and sprinted towards the door. "Can we talk about this later, Jam?"

"Yeah, whatever Meg." She crossed her hands and looked out the window. From the corner of my eye, I could tell she was crying, but there was no time to comfort her. If I weren't ready in fifteen minutes, Kyle would have my head hanging from the ceiling. 

Closing the door, I dropped my belongings and stripped down to nothing. I turned on the faucet to the shower without even bothering to checking the temperature. I jumped in, letting out a loud yelp as the scalding water bounced off my skin. I nearly fell on the slippery surface, but caught myself on the built-in handle on the wall. I scrubbed my scalp free of my morning sleep and scrubbed my body until the skin nearly ripped off.

 I dried off, and immediately hopped into the outfit I would sport tonight. My tangled mane straightened out effortlessly while I ran my brush through the knotted mess. I gave it some time to air dry while I applied my makeup. Some simple, but classy red lipstick, foundation, and a hint of bronzer to tone up my pale cheekbones. Whoever my parents were had manage to screw me when it came to my skin. Some days it came off as pale and dry, while others it was a lovely light sun-kissed color. It usually changed when the seasons switched.

I glanced at the clock in the bathroom. It read that I had just about 5 more minutes to be ready before Kyle came in and started to whine about my tardiness. My hair was nearly waterless, but I ran a blow dryer through it just in case. A few curls necessary and hurriedly added, just in time for I was ready. I looked at my ending result, ashamed at whom I had become. No longer could recognize the girl looking back at me. She was nothing more than a complete stranger. The girl's eyes grew glassy with tears, but neither one of them fell. With a mild groan, I smoothed out my dress and walked out of the bathroom, right on queue.

 Brenda looked similar to me, but her costume was more revealing. Her low cut top clung to her frail torso and medium sized breast. The ensemble was complete with a tight-fitting party shorts and high-heeled boots. Kyle was not too far behind with the keys in hand. Jamie walked out of the room and propped up against the wall. Her eyes still hinted of the conversation she started earlier, but she masked it the best she could. I looked her in the eye and gave her a hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Be safe." She whispered in my ear as I embraced her.

"Always am. Get some rest." I let go and looked at her face. I gave her that 'we will talk later' look and headed toward the front door. 

"My dinner better be ready when I get back, is that clear Jamie?" Kyle called out before he shut the door.

"Yes sir." Jamie nearly jumped at his harsh demanding tone. 

Two years of dealing with this, I had gotten over the usual nerves and racing heartbeat. It was plainly routine now, and normal was all I could except from Pembrook Pointe. Any other night I would just be happy to get it done and out the way, with plenty of money to make it through the week or just the next day alone, but this was not the usual. We only worked on the weekends, and today was Monday. Tonight was not one of those nights of carefree and familiar customers. This was the night of undercover cops 

 Brenda was the first to be dropped off. Her usual post was on the corner of Texas Avenue. That was the closest post to our apartments, and of course, she would receive special treatment. She was screwing the supervisor.

The ride to Pembrook was a long and quiet one. Kyle and I were never on a casual conversation basis. Even when life was perfect and hasty, he was not a man of many words. I never could really grasp how he and Brenda still held on to their bazaar marriage. Her mouth seemed to never stop moving. 

"Megan, there was something I wanted to speak to you about." Oh, god.

"Yes?" I tried to hide the nerves in my voice, but I really was not successful. Anytime Kyle spoke the words 'we need to talk' or 'there was something we need to talk about' the ending outcome was never a gratifying situation. 

"You're getting older; as a matter of fact, you'll be eighteen in less than a few months so that means a raise in your prices." He began. 
"How much of a raise?"
"How about ten percent? Or maybe even fifteen. Hell, I do not care. Go crazy. As long as it boost the income coming in then I could care less how much, but it has to be at least a ten dollar increase. Then I am happy, and when I'm happy, everyone else is happy, agreed?"
"Yes sir." What he was asking me was close to impossible. The customers gave me a hard time with just forty-five a pop. A ten-dollar increase would send them running for the hills. Evidently, you could not tell that to Kyle. He did not accept excuses. He expected actions and results, and if you did not comply, he would take his own action. I have had plenty of busted lips in the past to not question his authority. 

 "I hope you don't disappoint me Megan. I hate to hurt that pretty little face of yours." He rubbed the side of my face with the back of his palm. Reflexively, I flinched away from his cold, dark touch. His expressions faded into a deep red. The grip on the steering wheel nearly snapped in haft. His eyes furrowed with fury and glared directly at the road, never taking his eyes off it.

 The truck ended in front of my alleyway, and I hurriedly slipped out of the passenger seat. I slammed the door unintentionally hard. Kyle floored it, nearly taking my three-inch boot with him. Stumbling back to the nearby wall, a pit of rage pricked the tip of my stomach.

"Ass." I called after the long gone pickup truck.

I was somewhat bewildered at this point. Mondays were not my usual lonely husband clientele. They were all with their families or at work, living the true American dream. Depressingly, I was the slutty hooker that was taking that dream and stomping a mud hole into it. God, I am such a whore.

 I crossed my legs and sat on a crate that was in the middle of the alleyway. The night had a very slow and unnecessary start. With a sigh, I slumped my chin onto my hand and stared out into the street, praying for some desperate plumber. My mind drifted to other places. Places that was warm, tranquil with the sound of the crashing waves of the ocean in the distant background. So peaceful and chaos free. I desired for it to be a reality, even though there was no chance in hell.

 A long limo approached with caution in front of my alley. I perked up while forcing my eyes to see through the deeply tinted windows of the limo. It came to a complete stop once the back entrance was now directly in front of me. The door opened, and a gray-haired man appeared from the darkness of the backseat.

 He dressed in a bluish-black pin stripe suit and a bronze tie that brought out his modern green eyes. There was not a thing out of place about this man, except the fact that he was pulling up to a dark alley at twelve thirty in the morning. Sharp as a nail, he strolled up to me and stared at my costume. He alone looked to be worth a couple of million, and that was just in this suit. I never had to deal with clients of this calibre since most upper class people never even bothered to look in the direction of this area. Tonight was starting to look up after all.

 He let out a craving smile, revealing his perfect white, and real teeth, and stuck out his hand. I stood up and approached him. 
"Good evening ma'am I-"

"Cut the crap. What do you want me to do?" Yes, I was a 'get down to business and ask questions later' type. "Cause all this talking is a waste of both mine and your time." I walked pass him and climbed into the back of the limo and he followed closely behind. The door made a final closing noise as the man shut the door behind us. 

 I slowly stepped out of the car, my legs still shaking. I turned towards the man, whose name turned out to be Simon, prepared to collect my debts. He opened his wallet and handed me five hundred-dollar bills. I clasped onto the money and stared at the five Benjamin Franklins, who only stared back at me, smiling. I looked up at Simon as he winked at me and climbed back into the backseat and shut the door. The limo zoomed off down the street, with me staring after it, even after it was no longer in sight.

 Flopping down onto my crate, I continued to gape at the five hundred dollars that I held in my hand. I had never even thought about making this much tonight, but the crazy thing was my night had just begun. A sly grin slid onto my face as I slid the money into my bra.
I had a few more customers that night, but nothing as big as Simon's payout. I tried my ten-dollar increase and it only worked for a few clients, but I did not at all care. It was a slow night overall, but Kyle would be so proud. I could not help but bounce around in the shadows of the alley.

I leaned up against the wall of the alley as my shift slowly finished. Kyle would be here any second now so I began counting my total income for tonight. I did not even bother to include to five hundred dollars, I would just add it to the total amount later on. I pulled out the wad of money from my chest and began to count.

 I focused on the capital in my hands while throwing different numbers around in my brain. The last thing I wanted to do was start over. Including the five hundred, as of now I had made close to seven hundred and fifty dollars. That was a new record. I had never even imagined bringing home this amount of money. I was so fixated the cash that I didn't see the men in black bandanna's approach me

 One of the two men shoved a gun into my rib cage and stared into my eyes. His eyes were so...cruel. Full of hate and pain, they bored into my soul. Tears ran down my cheeks, terrified of what might happen next. 
"Hand over the money or die." The second man said bluntly. He grabbed a hold of my arm, making sure I didn't make a run for it, but that defiantly wasn't on my list of ways to survive. The robber with the gun raised it just under my ear and slid it back under my chin. My hand nearly dropped the money from shaking so much. I tried to hide it behind my back the best I could, but that was not the cleverest decision. I closed my eyes, watching my life flash I front of me. Jamie's face was all I could see, behind my wet eyelids. I could not leave her with those spiteful people. Not like this

 I moved my hand from my lower back and handed the role of cash to the criminals. I kept my eyes shut as the men snatched the money from my hands and removed the gun from my neck. I could feel the breeze of their bodies brushing past me. I did not open my eyes until after about ten minutes of just standing there with tears running from the corners of my eyes. I was in mute horror that they might still be there. Slow, they seeped open after arguing back and forth with myself. It was as if they were never there. They had taken everything. All of it was gone. It was as if they took apart of me with them. Coming home to Kyle broke was not even an option. No one had done what pushed those buttons, just because of the internal fear of what might happen.

They might as well have killed me. If they didn't, then Kyle would.

Next: Chapter 2