The devil inside, p.12
The Devil Inside, page 12
A group of youngish looking girls were gathered close to a bus stop. They all looked between eighteen and twenty-five. Too young. Far too young. I kept going down another stretch of road. There were a lot of scary-looking women in these parts. I veered around another corner and saw three women together who looked somewhat closer to my own age—it was hard to tell in the dark with only streetlights to go by. A blonde and two brunettes. Not ugly—from this distance—but they definitely had applied too much makeup and could use a burger or two.
I shivered, considering how many men had been between their legs.
I pulled up to the side of the road and rolled down my window. They glanced over, and I earned a few smiles. The blonde, the older and bolder of the bunch, approached, her two friends close behind.
Blondie leaned against the truck and batted her fake lashes. Her breasts threatened to tumble out of her lowcut shirt. The scent of her cheap perfume filled the truck, gagging me.
“How much?” I asked, gripping the wheel with enough force to make my knuckles white.
“Depends what you want, sweetheart.”
“I need someone willing to pose as my girlfriend for a thing in the morning. I’ll give you a hot meal, somewhere to shower, a place to sleep, and a ride back in the morning.”
The blonde rolled her eyes and conferred with her friends, who shrugged.
“Define what you want in bed between now and then, cutie. Be specific, or I can’t quote you a price.”
“Nothing. I don’t want to sleep with you. I need a fake girlfriend.”
“Honey, try a dating app.”
“I don’t have time. I’ll pay and offer all those things I said. How much?”
The blonde shoved away from the car and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Call an escort service. That’s what you need.” Then she strutted away like I’d wasted her time.
“Bitch.”
The taller brunette followed, and they laughed together at my strange request. The second brunette came to the window. She looked a lot younger than I first suspected. There was a youthful innocence in her eyes, and I guessed she was probably new to this line of work.
“No sex?” she asked.
“No.”
“Food, a shower, and a bed?”
“Yeah.”
“What about oral?”
“I said no sex.”
She peered back at her friends and shrugged. “Five hundred for the whole night.”
“Are you kidding? I said nothing would happen. I’m gonna feed you and let you sleep at my fucking house.”
“Buddy, I go with you for the night and make five hundred or I stay here and make twice that in less time. Your decision.”
It was still cheaper than the goddamn escort rate. I considered, years of self-loathing eating at my core. “Fuck me.” I scrubbed my face and growled. “Fine. Get in.”
She climbed into the truck and tucked her purse beside her, flicking her hair over her shoulder. Once she buckled up, I tore away from the curb, disturbed by what I’d just done, cursing myself and my life. All to please my fucking parents. Who the fuck was I?
“So what’s your name?” she asked, snapping a piece of gum and chewing obnoxiously.
“Call me James.”
“Nice to meet you, James. You can call me Candy.”
Jesus, that would never do. I eyed her then returned my focus to the road. “What kind of a fucking name is that? Your parents call you that?”
She giggled. “No, sweetheart. My tricks call me that.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not a trick. Tomorrow, your name is Janet.”
“Sure, whatever.”
If I called her Candy in front of my mother, she’d have my balls in a vise.
I eyed the woman again, trying to get a read on her age. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-one.”
“Shit. Are you serious?” My mother was going to crucify me. I could hear it now.
“You know. You’re really hot. If you change your mind about the sex thing, I’ll give you a discounted rate.”
“I won’t change my mind.”
“Just saying. If you did.”
“I won’t.”
We continued in silence. She chomped on her bubble gum, and it was grating on my last nerve.
Closer to my apartment, I pulled into a fast food drive-thru. “What do you want?”
She rhymed off a number of items, enough for a few meals’ worth of food, and I guessed she was probably going to stash half of it in her purse for later. I didn’t argue or care. I got a burger combo for myself and a milkshake since my stomach was still unsettled from the gallons of alcohol I’d drowned in the night before. At my apartment, I guided her to the elevator. Nine floors felt like nine hundred with Candy’s eyes devouring me. I watched her reflection in the doors.
She was short, less than five feet tall and probably ninety pounds soaking wet—if that. I was going to Hell. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. I couldn’t win this battle. If I found out she was underage, I was going to cut an artery and be done with it.
We didn’t speak again until I unlocked my apartment door. Her body spray was something sweet, and it hung around her like a cloud—like cotton candy. Appropriate.
“Nice place.”
It was a pigsty. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d tidied anything.
“Shower’s down the hall. Start there.” Because I didn’t have a clue what I had just brought into my apartment off the street. “Eat after. You can sleep on the couch. I’ll find a blanket.”
“Sure. Thanks.”
The minute she was gone, I scanned my living room, looking for valuables she might think to nab. Apart from my TV, which was secured to the wall, the place was scarcely decorated. I didn’t own anything worth taking, and I couldn’t see that tiny chick walking away with my TV. The only thing at risk of disappearing was the food out of my fridge. Paranoid, I gathered a few loose items and brought them to my bedroom, then I found a blanket and pillow and dropped it on the couch.
In the kitchen, I put my milkshake in the fridge, deciding it wasn’t what I wanted, and cracked open a new bottle of gin. Fuck it. I made a tall drink, adding ice and mixing it with tonic but forgoing the lime since I didn’t have any. The best way to beat a hangover was with more alcohol.
Closing my eyes, I took a few long pulls, relishing the cool slide of the booze down my throat.
“Can you spare a drink?”
I turned at the sound of the soft female voice and almost dropped my glass. She wore lace, see-through panties and an equally revealing bra. Her nipples and shaved pussy were not hidden. Miles of pale bare skin assaulted my eyes. I darted my gaze away, unsure where to look, unsure how to feel. This was crazy. Insane. Who did shit like this?
Me, apparently. Is this what I’d become? Desperate. A fool.
“Sorry. I don’t have anything to sleep in.” She played the shy card and twirled a wet curl of hair around a finger as she eyed me salaciously. I wasn’t buying it. She was itching for extra cash if I was willing to pay. And I absolutely was not.
“I’ll find you a T-shirt.”
There was no way I could let her roam around the apartment half-naked. I bolted to my room and fished an old shirt from a drawer. If I never saw it again, I wouldn’t be sad.
When I brought it to her, she thanked me and tugged it over her head. It was miles too big, hanging to her knees and off one shoulder
“So, um … go ahead and eat your food. You can watch TV or whatever. This thing is at eight tomorrow morning, so we have to be up early. Get some sleep.”
She sat on the couch, blinking round hazel eyes up at me. Fuck, she was too young. How was I going to explain this to my mother? I had told her Janet was a nurse. This girl could pass as a high school student.
“So, what’s this thing we gotta do?”
“It’s … a church thing. We have to go to mass and then a bazaar afterward. There’ll be food and whatever. We have to be social for about one hour after the service. You need to talk to my parents and make them believe you are who I say you are, then after, I’ll take you wherever you wanna go. I’ll pay you when it’s done so I know you won’t slip out on me.”
“You know what they say about whores and church, right?”
“Yeah, don’t worry about it. If I haven’t burst into flames yet, you won’t either.”
She shrugged. “Easiest five hundred bucks I’ve made in a while.”
My life would be so much easier if the devil would release me from his hold. One day, I’d find a girl who would make me want it all. I had to have faith. It would happen. I would feel that thrill in my bones, and she’d make my heart beat wildly in my chest. Someday, when my dues were paid and God saw I was fit, I would live a normal life.
I left Candy in the living room, convinced she would be gone in the morning and my cupboards would be bare.
She wasn’t.
I woke to my alarm at six thirty and found her curled under the blanket beside me in bed.
“Jesus Christ.” Startled, I flung myself in the opposite direction and tumbled onto the floor.
She stirred and opened her eyes, smiling in a sleepy haze about her. “Just wanted to be available if you changed your mind, sweetie. Don’t freak out. Besides, your couch wasn’t comfortable.”
“Get out of my fucking bed. What the hell is wrong with you?”
She sulked and rolled onto her back, stretching and shedding the comforter. She’d lost my T-shirt and the rest of her clothes at some point and was sprawled out naked, eyeing me. “Come on. I’ll give you a freebie, and I never do that.”
I focused on the door to my room, unable to look at her, my innards twisting and churning. Part of me realized that a normal man would probably be a little bit turned on and might take her up on the offer. But all I felt was disgust.
“Please get the fuck out of my bed and put clothes on.”
“Wow, are you gay or something?” She rolled out of bed and tugged my T-shirt over her head with a huff.
“I’m not fucking gay. Just because I don’t want to sleep with you doesn’t mean I’m gay.”
I stormed out of the room, noting that I would need to wash my bedding at some point today. Or burn it. “I’m gonna shower. There’s a bag of clothes for you by the door. I don’t know if they’ll fit, but make it work. You can’t look like a whore at church.”
I sensed her eye roll as I slammed the bathroom door.
By the time I finished showering and shaving, I slipped into my bedroom and dressed for church. Alone, I held my cross to my lips, asking for guidance and praying for forgiveness.
In the living room, I found Candy still in my T-shirt, feet kicked back on the coffee table as she watched TV, drug paraphernalia scattered over my coffee table. When she glanced over, her eyes were glassy.
“Are you serious?”
Fucking great. I wasn’t shocked, but I was annoyed. Not only was I bringing a hooker to meet my parents at church, but now she was higher than a kite.
“Hey.” I snapped my fingers, assessing her response. “You hear me? I said, get dressed. We gotta go soon.”
“I’m not wearing that.” She pointed at the clothes I’d bought at the second-hand store.
“Yes, you are.”
“It’s ugly.”
“I don’t care. Put it on. You can’t wear the clothes you had on yesterday when I picked you up. They aren’t appropriate, and it will blow the whole scam out of the water.”
She pouted. It had zero effect on me.
Groaning, she shuffled to the edge of the couch and started putting her drugs back in her purse.
“And what the fuck were you thinking taking that shit now?”
“I was thinking I didn’t want to crash at church. You don’t make the rules, asshole. You’re not my mother.”
I ground my teeth and tugged my fingers through my hair, biting back an argument that wouldn’t get me anywhere. “Whatever. Fine. Get dressed, or we’re gonna be late.”
Relenting, she shut off the TV and took the bag of clothes to the bathroom. I heard the shower run and collapsed on a kitchen chair with a smoke while I waited. I was going to Hell. I was damned no matter what I did. This was a new low.
Fifteen minutes later, Candy emerged wearing the knee-length skirt, blouse, and the cardigan I’d purchased the day before. She’d applied a less assaulting amount of makeup and had fixed her hair into a side braid. She looked … a thousand times better. Like a kindergarten teacher.
But still too young.
Her black heels didn’t go with the outfit, but I was out of time to do anything about it, so I kept my mouth shut when she tugged them on.
“You look good.” I ashed my smoke and scanned her again. “Your name is Janet, and for today, you’re a nursing student since I doubt I could pass you off as a nurse.”
“What are your parents’ names?”
“Bill and Leslie. We’ve been dating for four months, and we met at Café Espresso the night they did the Christmas hymn thing out on the island.”
“Do we live together?”
“Fuck no. We’re taking things slow. I guess since you’re a student, we can say you wanna finish school first before we take any big steps.”
“Makes sense.”
“Just let me do most of the talking.”
“Sure.”
I checked the time and dropped my smoke into the melted ice in my glass from the night before. It sizzled and went out. “Let’s get outta here. Get this over with.”
I didn’t have high hopes for my day going well. When we arrived at the church, the parking lot was packed. The service started in less than five minutes. At least if we slipped in right on time, Mom couldn’t hammer me with questions about my pseudo girlfriend until after.
Candy got out of the truck and sized up the church. “Wow. It looks daunting. I don’t have to know anything religious, do I?”
“Nah. You’ll be fine. Just sit beside me and don’t talk. Follow my lead.”
I held out my hand, and she stared at it.
“What? Does holding hands cost more? You’re supposed to be my girlfriend.”
“No.” She took it, and we made our way inside.
I scanned for my parents, knowing they would have a seat saved for us. They were halfway down one side at the end of the pew.
“Remember. Your name is Janet.”
“I’m not a fucking idiot.”
“You can’t swear in church.”
“Whatever.”
Mom stood as we approached. “Oh, Jameson. There you are, and this must be Janet.”
“Hi.” Candy waved. “Nice to meet you. I’m a nursing student. James and I have been dating for four months, and we don’t live together.”
I groaned, and Mom frowned.
“Looks like we’re right on time.” I shooed Mom back into the pew before she could question Candy’s word vomit or notice she was high.
I took the spot next to Mom and let Candy sit on the end.
Dad leaned over and whispered, “I thought you said she was a nurse.”
“Nursing student. You must not have heard me right.”
“She’s awfully young,” Mom said as she leaned back and turned her attention up front, chin high, nose upturned. She wasn’t speaking to me directly, but I was meant to hear the comment. She wasn’t impressed.
Well, that made two of us.
I didn’t respond and sank back in the pew, eager to get through the morning.
“How are you holding up?” I asked Candy halfway through the service.
She smiled and shrugged. “Sweating like a whore in church, like the saying says.”
I stifled a laugh. “Almost done.”
“Why do you bother?” she asked, leaning against my side and whispering into my ear. “I mean, you obviously don’t want to be here, so why put on a show for your parents? You’re not some kid. You’re a good-looking guy. Why don’t you just get a real girlfriend?”
“Long story.” I was going to leave it at that, but with all I had eating at my brain, I found myself explaining anyhow. “I do want to be here, it’s just, I don’t feel accepted. When I sit here, I feel judged. The big man upstairs has given me trials I haven’t been able to conquer yet, and until I can work my way through them, I won’t feel like I truly belong under His roof. It’s hard to explain. My religion means a lot to me, but I’ve fallen off the path and haven’t found my way back yet.”
Candy studied me a minute before refocusing up front. “That’s a mighty deep closet your living in.”
I didn’t know what she meant.
I didn’t expect her to understand. She was some chick I’d picked up off the street. She couldn’t know how deeply rooted my pain and torment were. She didn’t know the battle I fought daily. No one did.
After the service, we regrouped in the large community room at the back of the church where tables had been set up around the room for the annual bazaar. There was coffee, treats, and a selection of homemade soups available as well. Everyone milled around, chatting and greeting one another. It was the big spring event, and few people from the congregation missed it.
“So, Janet,” my mother began once we’d found a spot in line to grab something to eat. “What church do you attend?”
“Oh, um—”
“Our Lady Mercy in Mississauga, Mom,” I said.
“Yeah. That one.” Candy smiled.
Mom studied her. I’d lost points with this one, and when Mom’s harsh glare turned on me, I knew I’d get an earful later. She wouldn’t make a scene, not where her church friends might see or hear.
We each got soup and coffee and a plate of treats then found a table that had four available spots. We sat and ate, and I checked the time on my phone, itching for a smoke and wanting to get out of there.
Dad discussed the service, breaking down the readings like he always did after mass, and I zoned out, eating my soup and counting the minutes.
“Jimmy! Jimmy! Oh, it’s my Jimmy. You let me go see him.”
I shuffled around on my seat when I heard my name, and a smile crawled across my face as I watched Geraldine beat her way through the crowd toward me, an embarrassed Micah following her.
