Read Faith (Hades Angels #1) Online
Authors: Elizabeth Hayes
I made it to Tommy’s in less than five minutes. It was close to the club and was open twenty-four hours. They had the best homemade donuts and served breakfast all day long. I decided to get a booth in the back and wait for Melody to arrive. I didn’t have to wait long before I saw her waltz inside. She spotted me right away and made her way to the table.
“Did you have to wait long? I tried to hurry up.” She sat down across from me.
“Nope. I just got here myself.”
“Good. I am starving!” she said as she looked over the menu. We had both been here many times and the menu never changed. She always got the same thing, an order of French toast, side of sausage, and an order of donut holes. I stuck with a spinach and cheddar cheese omelet, with a side of bacon.
“Hey, girls! How ya doing tonight?” the waitress asked. “Can I get you both your usual?”
“Yes, please!” I smiled.
“Hmm, hold on a sec,” Melody said, still looking over her menu. “Yeah, that would be great, but can I get a side of bacon instead of sausage?” She handed the menu to the waitress.
“So, did you hear what the girls were saying about Candice?” Melody asked me.
“No, I try to stay as far away as I can from the drama,” I replied.
The waitress brought our drinks to the table. A cherry cola for me and a chocolate shake for Melody.
“Dude, but you so got to hear this. Remember that guy, the one we both made bank from a couple weeks ago?”
“Yeah, he seemed a little off to me.” I took a drink of my soda.
“Well, apparently she thought if he was going to pay her that good just to sit and talk to him that she could get him to buy her a car or something stupid. So she waited until last song and slipped him her phone number with a note asking him to call her, and that she would make his toes curl or some shit like that.”
I busted out laughing. “Are you serious?”
“Dead fucking serious. Turns out that dude has been a friend of Jade’s for, like, years, and Jade got the note and everything. I hear Candice even tried to talk herself out of it. We all know how much of a stickler Jade is with the rules.”
Jade was strict when it came to her club. The dancers had to follow her rules or get out. I had seen it a few times when girls thought they could get away with something, only to have Jade find out. The woman had eyes and ears in every part of the club. I guess a business owner would have to be strict about rules. I still wondered, though, how she’d become the owner and manager of the club at her young age.
The waitress brought us our plates and we dug in.
We sat there and talked mostly about generic topics while we ate. By the time I was done eating I was beyond exhausted. We paid our bills, said goodbye, and then I made my way home. That shower might have to wait until morning. I didn’t know if I would have the energy once I made it back to my apartment.
The drive home only took fifteen minutes and by the time I was in the elevator I was falling asleep standing up. I walked into my apartment and went straight to my bedroom, falling face first on my bed, pulling my fuzzy pink throw blanket over me. Within seconds I was passed out cold, fully clothed with my shoes still on.
The next few days I sat around my apartment and tried to finish up the last paper I needed to turn in for my creative writing class. I still had six hundred words to add, and then go through and edit it. I hated editing. I needed to go to the clinic and get my blood drawn too, so hopefully the wait wouldn’t be very long. It was one of those first come, first serve clinics. It wasn’t far from my apartment, but sometimes I had to wait for nearly an hour.
I had finished writing my paper by two in the afternoon, and drove to the clinic. There weren’t many people waiting so I was hoping to get in and out. I signed my name on the sign-in sheet and took a seat. Within ten minutes my name was called to go over insurance.
“Okay, let’s see here, Laura Walsh, can you look this over and let me know if the information we have is correct?” The lady at the reception desk handed me a sheet of paper with all my information on it. I had done this so many times I’d lost count. If my information wasn’t correct I would probably not even notice since I barely skimmed the sheet before signing my name at the bottom.
I went back and had a seat waiting for the phlebotomist to call my name.
I sat down and before I could get comfortable my name was called again. I followed the older lady through the back door as she took me into a room and double-checked my name on my paperwork. Again, I was asked if everything was correct, before she proceeded. She wrapped my upper arm with a tourniquet and looked for a vein. If anything, I can say at least I have good veins. It didn’t take her long to find one and she had the needle stuck in my arm drawing out six tubes of blood before she pulled the needle out. She wrapped a light blue cloth around my arm and sent me on my way.
I had a routine I followed. I would get my blood drawn and then stop at Cups on my way back home. Cups is a small coffee shop close to my apartment that was always packed. It was known for its cheap prices but had fantastic coffee. I walked into the crowded room and the scent was heavenly. I stood in line and waited for my turn to order.
“Hey, Faith, is that you?” I heard someone say from behind me. I froze for a second, debating on whether or not I should turn around. Curiosity won out, and I cautiously looked back. I spotted Jade who looked just as shocked to see me.
“Hey, Jade.” I smiled at her before glancing around to see if anyone had heard her call me Faith.
“Oh, sorry, I always forget to use real names when I’m not at work.”
“No, it’s okay. I actually don’t know you by any other name, so I would have done the same thing.”
“Let me introduce myself, then. Hi, my name is Becca, what’s yours?” She extended her hand.
“Hi, Becca, my name is Laura. Nice to meet you,” I said, shaking her hand.
“Well, Laura, let me buy you a cup of coffee.” She smiled.
“That would be great.” I smiled. We waited in line for a few more minutes before we finally made it up to the counter.
“Welcome to Cups, what can I make for you today?” the barista asked.
“Can I get a large mocha with soy, no whip?”
“Name for that one?” she asked.
“Laura.”
“And for you?” she turned and waited for Becca to order.
“I would like a large cinnamon and caramel latte.”
“And name for that?”
“Becca.”
“That will be eight dollars and forty-nine cents.” Becca handed over a ten.
“I’m going to go grab that table over there before someone takes it.” I pointed over to the empty table.
“Okay, I will wait for our drinks.” Becca beamed.
I sat down at the table and waited for her to join me. It wasn’t long before I saw her walking over with our drinks. She sat down across from me, handing me my drink.
“So, Laura, I have a question I have been dying to ask you.” She glanced down at her steaming mug, blowing on it.
I sat up a little bit straighter in my seat. “Okay, shoot.” I glanced at her, anxious.
“I noticed some things about you. For instance, you are not like the other girls. You come to work and you dance your ass off, but I never see you counting your money when you get off stage. I also noticed you don’t seem worried about how much money you make. You drive a nice car and the address on your driver’s license is in an expensive apartment complex. Care to shed some light on all of this?” she asked, taking a sip from her mug.
I let out a big sigh and glanced up at her. “I don’t need the money.”
“Okay, so if you don’t need the money, then why would you want to work at Hades?” She appeared confused.
“For personal reasons, actually.”
“Are you trying to piss off Mommy and Daddy?”
The question was forward, but it didn’t bother me. “No, that’s not it at all. Although, they have no idea that I am working at all.” I took a sip of my mocha, stalling so I could decide how much I should tell her.
“I just don’t get it.” She still looked confused.
“Okay, here we go.” I took a deep breath and started to explain. “When I was eighteen, I was diagnosed with a form of breast cancer. I went through a few sessions of chemo before I underwent a double modified radical mastectomy soon after being diagnosed. It wasn’t a full mastectomy, but they removed my breast tissue and my nipples and areolas.”
I paused, looking up at her to make sure she was still with me. Her mouth was slightly open, and she closed it when she realized she was doing it. “I had reconstructive surgery at the same time so they were able to keep the scarring minimal, but at that time they couldn’t reconstruct my nipples. I lost more than just my boobs and nipples, Becca, I lost myself. I haven’t felt comfortable in my own skin for a while, and I honestly never thought I would again.” I sat back in my seat and looked up at her.
“I don’t know what to say, Laura. I’m so sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. You don’t need to say you’re sorry. I have lived with this for the past few years, and I know that I can’t change any of it. I lost myself, and dancing makes me feel normal. Like I’m not deformed or missing anything. I feel whole. Does that make sense?”
“It does. But can I ask one more question?” Her tone was edged with caution.
“Yeah.”
“Are you okay now? I mean, with the cancer. Are you still sick, or are you in remission?”
“A few days before I first walked into Hades, I went to see my doctor. After almost three years, I was finally in remission. I am cancer free.” I smiled at her.
I don’t know why it was so easy to spill my guts to Becca. There was just something about her that made me feel at ease. And for once I finally felt that I could tell someone my story. It was as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Another reason becoming Faith had helped me, in a way that people just wouldn’t understand. Being a stripper, an exotic dancer, was freeing. It broke down my walls little by little and I could finally see the old me resurfacing.
Talking to Becca wasn’t easy at first, but as soon as I started, it became easier.
I realized that I didn’t really have anyone to talk to about it, especially after my friends abandoned me, or after I pushed them away. The counselors were helpful to a point, but they were not my friends. Then there was my mom and dad, who were always too worried about my health, asking me every ten seconds if I was okay, or if I was in pain. I didn’t feel as though I could really open up to any of them. They treated me like an invalid for the longest time.
“Can I ask one thing from you, Becca?” I stared down at my mug.
“Yes, of course you can.” She smiled but it didn’t seem as real as I think she was hoping for.
“Now that you know of my health problems, can you do me one favor? It’s all I really ask.” I paused, trying to think of a way to put it without coming off as a bitch. “Whatever is going on in your head right now, please don’t let it impact the way you treat me. I like coming to work, but if I start to feel as though you are giving me special treatment, or feeling sorry for me in any way, I will walk out of there faster than you can say my name. I am not fragile. I am just like everyone else. Please do not feel sorry for me. It wasn’t my fault I had cancer. It was just the luck of the draw. I got something no one wishes for or would wish on their worst enemy.” I took a drink of my coffee and looked over at her.
“Laura, I don’t know what to say. I understand what you are saying, it’s just…how could I not treat you any different, now that I know?”
“See, Becca, it’s already started. I am just asking you to treat me like everyone else. There is nothing you can do that can fix the things I have gone through. You can’t fix them and you cannot change them. That is a guarantee. The only thing you can do to help me in any way is to treat me just like you would any of the other girls. That’s it. That is all I ask.” I stood up and pushed my chair in. “Thank you for the coffee, but I really need to get home. I have a paper to finish and a class in the morning.” I smiled. “See, just your average everyday college student.”
“Laura, wait. I will try. I can’t promise that I won’t ask you how you are feeling more often, or things like that, but I will try. I know how hard it was for you to tell me that, and thank you for trusting me with it.” She smiled genuinely as I turned to leave.
I walked to my car, wondering to myself why I told her anything. I knew what happened when people found out. They treated me like an invalid. They treated me as if I was from a different planet. I wasn’t like them and they didn’t know how to react.
I drove home mentally beating myself up for telling Becca anything. By the time I reached my apartment I was starting to feel a little bit better about my lapse in judgment. I changed my clothes into something a little more comfortable, and peeled the bandage from my arm. I pulled out my laptop and finished my paper.