The King and the Courtesan (25 page)

“Hey. I thought you two were just friends,” Ace said, slightly put out.

“We are,” Roger responded robotically.

I pushed Roger slightly out of the way. “Look, Ace, I was being honest when I said I enjoyed today. But the thing is…it’s complicated. I’m not the kind of girl you want to be interested in.”

Ace’s eyes narrowed a moment, then softened. “Is this about the dust?”

I stared at him a moment. “
What
?”

His eyes fell, and I realized he was looking at the bruise on my arm. It was from my last hit, when I’d broken some blood vessels with a rather inaccurate and impatient strike of the needle.
Oh God, he
knows. Had he known
the whole time
? That was impossible. When people figured
that
out, they treated me differently. They either became interested in my “hobby”, if they were druggies, or disgusted with me if they weren’t.

I stared at him. Ace stepped closer, and Roger let him.

“Look, I don’t care about that. Because I used to do it. A long time ago. When I was a teenager.” He hung his head a little. “Juri got me clean real quick, and he told me he’d castrate me if he ever saw me with a needle in my hand again.” He laughed humorlessly. “So I don’t judge you.”

“You got clean?” I asked in slight awe. “And
stayed
clean?” I hadn’t known anyone to do that. Ever. The only clean people I knew hadn’t shot more than once or twice in their life, if that. Rehab was expensive, and even if they could afford it, they came back to the same old hellhole and wondered what the hell they had accomplished by quitting. So they went back to the old cycle, dragging through mind-numbing work in the day and forgetting it all at night.

“Yeah.” Ace shrugged. “Juri had a hand in it. Rika, too. She let me live at her place for a while. Got me a job. Kept an eye on me. Showed me that there’s more to life than sitting in a gutter and getting whacked. Doesn’t mean I’ve never been tempted to go back, but I definitely wouldn’t. I’m not proud of what I did, but it happened, and I learned a whole lot from it all.”

I was struck silent. I didn’t know what to say. I wanted him to help me. I wanted him to tell me the magic trick, because I didn’t want to be a slave to this shit any longer. Ezekiel owned me, wasn’t that enough? But no, I had to be chained down by dust, too. It defined me. I didn’t know who I was without it. I couldn’t go through the day without the high. How could he?

I reached forward and touched his shoulder. “How?”

“Hard work, determination, and a big, burly guy threatening my masculinity if I failed.”

“Can you—can you help me?” I whispered, stepping closer so he could hear me over the din of the Park. “I don’t…”
I don’t want to be owned anymore
. Tears pricked my eyes. Here was someone who got clean
without
expensive rehab, which I had always believed was the one thing that could get me off the dust. And I’d always known it was impossible, so I’d succumbed to my helplessness. But now…

“Sure. I can—”

“Melissa.”

Roger’s voice dropped me back in reality. I blinked and looked around. For a moment, I’d thought…no. I shook my head. What was I thinking? I had to go back to my employer, my prison, and my role-playing, where I belonged. Ace had to go home.

“I can’t—I’m sorry, Ace. Maybe I’ll come back soon. Some Saturday when the weather is good.” My smile was fake and weak, but it was all I could manage.

“But Melissa—”

“I have to go.” I turned away and began walking toward the exit. I caught a glimpse of Ace trying to pursue, but Roger grabbed him and shook his head. He might have said something, but I was too far away at that point to hear it.

I stood on the sidewalk outside, hugging myself, when Roger found me. He was about to say something, but I just shook my head and started walking toward the car.

* * *

“I want to see my sister.”

Roger didn’t argue. He just drove me to my street.

But I didn’t find her. I’d climbed the stairs to the apartment and found Yogi sitting in front of the door, Kenny next to her, cuddled up to her shoulder. Yogi gasped when she saw me and rocketed to a stand.

“Oh God,” Yogi gasped. Seconds later, I was enveloped in a hug so strong I had to catch my breath. For a moment, my face was buried in Yogi’s pink, lilac-scented sweater before I was wrenched away.

“Where have you been? Why doesn’t your cellphone number work?”

“I have a new cellphone…”

“And you didn’t bother to tell me?!”

Oops. I must have forgotten to give them my new one when I’d seen my girls last. But that still didn’t explain the panicked expression on Yogi’s face. I know I’d been absent for a while, but I’d told them I’d be okay. It wasn’t a promise anyone could really keep in Metro, but they knew me. I could take care of myself more than most.

Kenny tugged on Yogi’s sweater. “What is it?”

Yogi took his arm and hushed him gently, then turned back to me. But before she could speak, she spotted Roger behind me, watching the scene unfold.

“You remember Roger,” I said. “Yogi, what’s wrong?”

Yogi’s eyes were wide. “It’s your sister.”

“What?” I asked, my voice breaking. I couldn’t breathe.

Yogi’s hands fluttered down over my hair, trying to calm both of us. “She’s in the hospital.”

“
What
?”

“I tried getting ahold of you, but you didn’t answer, so I sat outside, hoping I’d find you—”

“Yogi, tell me what’s going on. What happened to Mimi?”

Yogi took a deep breath. “Joel.”

My brow tensed, and I felt a sudden urge to put my fist through a wall. “
Joel
.”

“Now, you and I both know he wasn’t into anything too serious, just pot and beer, but since you’ve been gone, he’s gotten himself in
deep
, and he was—he was on
something
, Melissa. He just went crazy. That’s what your neighbor says, anyway. She said she heard screaming, and when she went into the apartment, she found—she found Joel just—just—” Yogi held a hand to her mouth before composing herself. “Beating her. He beat her all over, but mostly over the head and—and—”

I grabbed Yogi by both arms and shook her. “What hospital? Where did they take her?”

“I-I don’t know, but I’d assume the closest, Central Metro.”

I spun around, latching onto Yogi as I trotted down the stairs. Kenny let out another protest and careened after us, still asking, “What is it? What is it?” Roger came last.

I threw myself into the car and waited impatiently for Roger, though he sensed the urgency and moved faster than usual. It still wasn’t fast enough.

“Give me the directions,” he asked as he peeled out of the parking lot.

“Left here, five blocks, then take a right. Drive until you get to Menoher Avenue. That will take you to Central Metro Hospital.”

Yogi and Kenny were in the back. Kenny kept asking Yogi what was wrong, while she petted his head and
shhhed
him softly.

“What about Joel?” I demanded. “What happened to him?”

“I don’t know. The neighbor said he shoved past her and got out of there when she showed up.”

“Goddamn it! I’ll kill him, the son of a bitch! No,
you
kill him.” I shot a glare at Roger. “Shoot him in the goddamn head!” I turned back to Yogi. “Do you know how bad it is? Do you?”

Yogi pressed her lips tightly together and shook her head. “The neighbor called me after the ambulance came for Mimi, because she’d seen me before and knew I was your friend. She took Mimi’s phone and called me with it.”

“I’ll kill him,” I hissed, kicking the glove compartment. “Can’t you drive any faster?”

“I’m going as fast as I can, Melissa.”

“Goddamn it.”

“Melissa—”

“I hate him! Mimi told me she broke up with him. She told me that! Was she lying, or did she just get back together with him? What did she see in that fucker anyway? Huh? He was—ugh, he was—I hate him!” I let out a shriek and kicked the glove compartment again. Kenny whimpered, and Yogi hushed him soothingly.

I started to cry, and that pissed me off. This wasn’t the time for tears. This was the time for revenge. That son of a bitch could have killed my sister. Actually, he might have. I’d always known he was bad news. And I’d done nothing.

I wanted to tell Ezekiel. I wanted to call him up, tell him what Joel had done, and then see what he said. I wanted Ezekiel to tell me he’d take care of it. And I wanted Joel’s carcass in tomorrow’s front-page news. I wanted it mutilated, shredded, and burned. I wanted his name erased from every phone book and database there was. I almost started believing in an afterlife right then, just so I could believe he’d rot in hell.

But he wasn’t dead yet, at least I hoped, because I wanted to watch the motherfucker die.

We pulled up into the no parking zone and parked. I was out of the car before anyone else could even unbuckle the seat belts. I headed straight for the ER.

By the time the other three had caught up, the woman at the desk had already rejected my request to see my sister.

“Please,” the nurse insisted when I started to snap. “I know you’re very upset right now, miss, but she’s being taken care of. Perhaps in a few hours, you will be able to see her. Trust me when I say we are doing all we can to—”

“Bullshit!”

“Miss, I’m going to have to ask you to sit down and wait like everyone else—”

“I want to know if my sister is alive!”

“Miss—”

I opened my mouth to fire back, but Roger clamped a hand on my shoulder and pulled me back.

“I’m sorry,” Roger said. “She’s obviously very upset.”

“Damn right I’m upset! I want to see my sister!”

Roger turned to me. “Melissa, please. Just go sit down. There’s nothing you can do. I’ll make sure everything is paid for, all right? Your sister will be taken care of.”

“I-I just—”

“I know.” Roger squeezed my arm. “But please. Just sit down.”

I looked at him helplessly a moment, feeling misery bubble up to replace my anger. I’d prefer to be angry. But the tears were coming, and they made me feel weak, so I just nodded and sat in the closest plastic chair available. I wasn’t sitting long, because Yogi pulled up in front of me, grabbed my hand, and yanked me to a stand. Next thing I knew, she was hugging me, as was Kenny.

“She’s a tough girl,” Yogi whispered. “She’ll make it.”

“Joel’s such a motherfucking…”

“Shh, I know.” Yogi smoothed my hair. “We’ll worry about Joel later. For now, you just try to stay positive. They’ll take care of your sister.”

“I don’t like hospitals,” I whispered.

“They’ll take care of her.”

I started sobbing harder now, and Yogi held me tighter. It had been so long since I’d been hugged, at least by someone I loved. Normally, I didn’t need hugs, but these past two months had left me so emotionally exhausted that I wouldn’t protest hugs like these every day.

Kenny broke the atmosphere. “Why are you crying, Melissa?”

I pulled back and wiped away my tears, trying to smile. “My sister is hurt, Kenny.”

Kenny pouted. “Mimi?”

“Yes, Mimi.”

Kenny looked appropriately sad, and I embraced him. Sometimes I envied Kenny’s naïve outlook on life.

Roger came back from the desk. “All we can do now is wait.”

Yogi got a seat next to me and held me as I cried. Part of me felt ashamed that Roger could see me like this, but another part didn’t give a shit. I had nothing to prove to Roger anyway.

It was getting dark out, and I wondered if Yogi was supposed to be working tonight. If she was, she didn’t move to leave, and I was silently thankful. Maybe I’d get her a gift as compensation. It wasn’t like I could give her cash. I didn’t have that.

Roger’s phone started buzzing, and he held up a finger to let us know he was going to take it outside. I was still sniffing, my head on Yogi’s shoulder, her arm around my back.

“Yogi?” I whispered.

“Yes?”

“So, um, how is business?”

Yogi chuckled softly. “Trying to get your mind off of Mimi?”

“No use torturing myself over it until I get to see her.”

“Work has been fine. All the girls are fine. Except…” Yogi fell silent.

“Who?”

“Cordelia.”

I let out a long sigh. “Why am I not surprised?”

“I’m afraid she’s considering working for a pimp.”

I sat up, suddenly angry. “What? How would she possibly be that stupid?”

“You know how they promise to take care of their girls. Cordelia is a delicate girl, emotionally and mentally, and it doesn’t take much promising to get her on your side. She’s—she’s not doing very well, Melissa. She’s using more these days.”

I shook my head. “God. Cordelia.”

“We’ve all tried talking to her, but she won’t listen. She thinks a pimp is the best way to go. She doesn’t want to be responsible for herself any more. And I admit that in some ways, working with a pimp should be easier. He pays all the bills, right? You get your own house, own meals…and of course customers are always waiting for you. You probably make more money with a pimp.”

“More money in
gross
. You make more
gross
,” I said hotly. “But by the end of the day, you’ve got two cents to your name. Once the pimp takes out your bills and his own slice, you’re left with shit.”

“I know, dear, I know. But Cordelia…she’s a desperate woman. And she’s a hard worker. The pimps want her. She’s not very good at saying no.”

“Maybe if I talk to her—”

“Right now, you worry about yourself. Leave Cordelia to us. You’ve got your own problems.”

“But I feel like…”

Yogi smoothed a hand over her hair. “Like I said. You worry about you. Cordelia has always used you as her crutch. She needs to learn how to stand on her own.”

“But she might listen to me!”

“She probably won’t. Once that girl has made up her mind—hmm, that boy doesn’t look too good.”

“Huh?” I looked up and found Roger slipping into the lobby, pale-faced.
Oh no
. I immediately stood, terrified that Ezekiel had called.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, grabbing Roger’s arm. “Is Ezekiel—”