My fingers drag through my hair for the fifteenth time since I got off the bus. The words Trudi wants—the words that would tell my story—they just aren’t there. I can’t begin to explain how seeing this place affects me sixteen years after I last saw it. Last saw my dad.
I stop in front of the bathroom door. My stomach turns as, in my memory, the tile and walls are suddenly clean again.
I was barely five years old, and Mom was on the floor, her head lolled to the side. Blank eyes stared at me. A brown bottle lay next to her limp hand.
I turn from the scene in my mind. Trudi jumps out of my way as I bolt out of the house, almost tearing the back door from its rusty hinges. My racing heart sends a roar of blood through my ears as I lean forward, hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath.
A palm lands on my back. I jump away.
Trudi twists her fingers in front of her. “Sorry—so sorry. I didn’t know you’d have such a strong reaction.”
I rub my face and wipe my stinging eyes. “Neither did I.”
When I raise my head, two cameras point in my direction.
Shit. All of that on film.
I stalk away. “Fuck this. I’m outta here.”
I wait it out on the bus with a tumbler of whiskey while the crew finishes whatever the fuck they’re doing. I’ve had enough of Memory Lane for the day. Time to do something else. Get out of my own head.
SIX
Job hunting in rural Louisiana is a fucking joke. The temp agency has exactly zero positions available right now. Fucking waste of time and gas money. Why the hell the woman couldn’t have said that before I came down, I don’t know. Of course, she told me they’d keep me on file. As if being on file will make a difference in the here and now.
Sadie flounces through the heavy wooden door of the lingerie shop as though she lives here. Hell, for all I know, she might.
Six feet into the store, I stop at a rack with some lacy things. I lift the hem of a see-through nightie.
Sadie dodges around a display of Porn-to-go videos and grabs my arm, yanking me along behind her. “Not those. You need the stuff back here.”
The dread in the pit of my stomach spreads into my chest and through my limbs.
No.
Suck it up and press on.
I can do this.
I mean, it’s not like it sits right around the corner from Aunt Delores’s place. It’s a good forty minute drive from my hometown and all these years later, I doubt I’ll see anyone I know, or anyone who’ll recognize me.
Besides, the pay sounds good—amazing actually. So much more than I’d make even at a good job. And Aunt Delores needs the money to fix all the shit going wrong with her house. Gold may not fall out of my pussy, but maybe a few dollar bills will—if I’m willing to show a little skin. A lot of skin.
Fuck, who am I kidding? I’ll have to show all the skin. That’s what strippers do—bare it all.
Sadie grabs three skimpy outfits off the rack, one of them a pair of camouflage shorts with Velcro at the side seams. “Oh, look! This is perfect.”
I fake a smile. “Nice. My color too.”
She pulls my hair up, holding it at the nape of my neck. “I bet all the guys were after you. Probably not too many Marines that look like you. Do you get a lot of dick?”
I close the door to the changing room. “Sadie. I appreciate the career advice. And if the money is half as good as you say it is I’ll be really be grateful for it. But I’m not telling you how much I get laid.”
Never. I never get laid anymore.
“Aw, c’mon, Cuz. Well, at least tell me about the guys. Were all those Marines muscled and hot?”
I wriggle into the shorts. “Some of them are pretty to look at. Some are only pretty to look at. Trust me. I got a lot more respect from the ones I didn’t fuck.”
I step out of the changing room and pirouette in front of the three-sided mirror in the corner. The camo shorts let my ass cheeks hang out and are about as tight as Dick’s hatband, but I guess that’s what I want if I’m going to get this job.
Sadie giggles and rolls her eyes. “Maybe I should join up and see what it’s like.”
“The guys at my duty station were great—until they sunk their cock into you. Then they became one of two people. Either complete assholes or the kind you can’t get rid of, even with cockroach spray, neither of which do I have the time or the inclination to fuck.”
Sadie’s jaw drops for a moment. “Now that is just sad.”
“All I’ll tell you is this: after a few months of banging pretty much any guy old enough to buy booze, I gave it up. I did date this one guy a few times, but—well, let’s just say he wasn’t who I wanted. And if I can’t have who I want, I’d rather do without.”