Five

Winnie

From the outside, The Whip looks like any other dive bar in America. There’s nothing special about it, and it has the same feel as the trailer park—run-down and in need of a makeover. That’s not going to happen though because, judging by the line of motorcycles lined up out front and the crowd of people smoking near the entrance, The Whip is popular to one specific crowd—the lowlifes of Carillon who have very little and expect even less. As long as the alcohol is flowing and the girls are eager, they’ll show up, throwing away what little money they have left.

I’ve walked by so many times, but I’ve never been inside. Not even when Tess called me, crying, from the back room, begging me to bring her something to take the edge off. I wasn’t about to become her runner. If she needed to get high, she’d have to take care of that on her own.

I guess that makes me a hypocrite since I’m about to go against my word.

Each step toward the entrance earns me another set of eyes. By the time my fingers are wrapped around the door handle, there’s a hand on my ass. I spin around so fast, he lets go but not before taking an eyeful of my cleavage with him.

The skittish reaction I give only makes him laugh, and then he says, “Looks like we have some fresh meat, fellas.”

My skin crawls, mostly because there’s a bar full of guys just like him, waiting to do their worst. And they won’t give up until they have me in the back room on my knees. But the back room isn’t a part of the deal, and I’d never sell my body, no matter how desperate I was for cash.

Ronnie’s at the podium, checking IDs, like Tess said he’d be. He holds out his hand for mine, but I don’t have a license. I’ve never even driven a car.

“Ronnie, it’s me, Winnie,” I tell him.

He’s been to the house a bunch of times, and he’s not a bad guy, but he’s still human. I see his eyes widen as he scans the length of me.

“Jesus, you look different, dressed like that.”

I look away from him, embarrassed to be in this position at all. He knows how Tess is and why I have to do this. There’s too much on the line, like my entire future, to tell Tess to fuck off.

“Don’t remind me. It’s Tess’s dress.”

He grabs my hand and pulls me toward the stool by the coat rack. “Are you sure you want to do this, Winnie? You don’t have to go in there. Tess can find another way to get her fix. She always does.”

“I’m sure,” I tell him even though I want to run away from The Whip and never look back.

But I have nobody to run to. Tess sold Dad’s cell phone before I had a chance to write down Trey’s phone number. Unless he contacts me first, I have no way to get ahold of him.

Ronnie closes his eyes and absorbs my answer. “If I knew Tess would pay me back, I’d give her the money. The last thing I want is for you to be in this shithole.”

I believe him. “It’s okay. She’s never paid back a dime of what she owes anyone—at least, not with cash.”

He smirks because I’m right. “She sucks a mean dick though. It’s almost worth it, but I don’t have the extra cash to give her this time.”

“It’s not your fault I’m here, Ronnie.” It’s mine. I could have given Tess some of the money I have stashed away, but that’s more I’d need to earn on my own. Working at The Whip seemed like the logical choice, the quickest fix to my problems.

I’m seventeen; there are a lot of other jobs I could get. But Tess won’t let me out of the house unless it’s to go to class or to the grocery store. Even when she’s not home, I’m pretty sure she has one of her thugs watching the house. The older I get, the more vulnerable that makes me feel. In a couple of months, I won’t be jailbait anymore, and there’s no telling what could happen then.

Ronnie gives me one last pity nod and then points to the bar on the far side of the room. “The guy in the plaid shirt is in charge. He’ll tell you what you need to do.”

The dim lighting becomes a blanket covering my exposed skin. I don’t feel as naked as I look as long as I’m shrouded in darkness. But any comfort I’ve found is quickly lost when I lose my balance on the slippery floor, almost falling.

Once I steady myself, I take an embarrassed look around the bar. All the stools are full, and there’s a bunch of cocktail waitresses standing around with trays, waiting for drinks to be made. They all saw me, and they’re already rolling their eyes at my lack of grace.

Searching for the plaid shirt, I’m relieved to see it’s Mr. Hastings. He’s never been to the house before, and he has no idea what my home life is really like. The only reason we know each other is because I’ve babysat his little girl a couple of times. From what I’ve seen, he’s decent and one of the nicer guys in the trailer park. But, like everyone else, he’s in a shitty-enough situation that The Whip has become his salvation.

Sometimes, I wonder why so many people get dealt bad hands and what it’d take for one of us to find better odds. Something tells me it’ll never happen as long as we’re inside The Whip.

When I get closer, he looks up from the stack of dishes in front of him, and I swear, disappointment flashes in his eyes. Either that or he’s having a bad night, and because I’m here, it just got worse. Nobody wants to deal with the new girl.

“Winnie,” he says as he dries off his hands.

“Mr. Hastings.”

“Call me Ace.”

“Okay,” I reply even though it seems wrong to use his first name.

Ace seems too personal, like we’re friends, and I know we’re not. I help him when he needs me. But, tonight, I need him to help me blend in and earn enough money to keep Tess off my back.

“What should I do first?”

“I gotta say, I was hoping you wouldn’t show.”

“No offense to you, but I’d rather not be here.”

“Why are you here then?” he asks as he brushes his dark hair off his forehead. I hesitate, and he says, “All Ronnie radioed was that you needed to cover for Tess.”

“I’ll leave it at that then.”

The less he knows, the better. Though I’m pretty sure he has it all figured out. Tess isn’t much of a mystery, and she does a shit job of hiding her habit.

Ace nods to the ice machine he’s standing in front of and sets down a tray of dirty glasses. “I need you to wash these and then go around and collect the dirties.”

“Tess buses tables?”

Laughing, he says, “No, you’ll start bussing, and when you’re comfortable in those shoes, I’ll have you take some orders. At least, if you drop the tray, the glasses are already empty.”

He must have caught my wobbly entrance. Normally, I’d want to crawl into a hole, but this outfit and these shoes aren’t me. He knows that, too.

“As long as I make some money tonight, I’ll do just about anything.”

“I get it. It’s always about the money. Why else do you think so many of the girls end up dancing?”

“Ace, after this shift ends, I’m not coming back here. I don’t want to be one of them.”

“We’ll see,” he says.

Before I can argue, he walks away with a smirk on his face. I hate that he thinks this place is my future. If the stage were all I had to look forward to, I’d give up and quit school in the fall. Why waste time when I could make more money than I’d ever earn at a day job?

The answer is simple.

The Whip isn’t the kind of life I want.

It’s not a living.

This is a sentence.

After a half hour of washing mugs, I grab a tray and make my rounds for the dirty ones. If Ace expects me to keep up, he’s crazy. As fast as the bartenders set fresh mugs in front of customers, two more get pushed back to clean.

Things only get busier when the first girl takes the stage. The alcohol flows twice as fast, and I wonder how bad things have to get for someone to start taking their clothes off. At what point does stripping become the answer?

But, after watching for a few minutes, I realize she might enjoy the attention as much as the money. And, when the song ends, she collects her cash with a smile on her face. She’s the happiest rock bottom I’ve ever seen.

“Already thinking about it?” Ace asks as he walks by me to serve the tables by the stage.

I hate that he caught me watching. Or that he thinks I might be desperate enough to take my clothes off.

Thanks to Tess, my reputation is changing, even after I’ve worked so hard to do the right things. Even though it’s not my fault that I’ve been lumped into the same whorish category as all the other girls at The Whip. I’m so angry with Tess when I turn around and run into a warm chest.

I wait for hands to squeeze my ass or for some filthy comment to be whispered into my ear. But neither of those things happens. Instead, I just hear my name.

“Winnie?” he says again as I raise my chin and look him in the eye.

The last person I expected to see is Jasper, a guy from my math class last school year.

“What are you doing here?” I ask him.

He’s probably wondering the same about me.

“I work in the kitchen. Thought I was seeing things.”

He’s not imagining it; I’m really here.

But, to work at The Whip, you have to live in the trailer park. If you don’t, there has to be some kind of connection. It’s common knowledge; the business stays in the family, and like Tess loves to remind me, The Whip and the park are the only family I have left.

“Come with me,” he says. And, after he grabs an empty tray off a table, he nods his head for me to follow him back to the bar. “I won’t ask why you’re here if you don’t want me to.”

If this gets around school, I’ll never live it down. Everyone already knows my parents are both gone and that I live in a dump with someone I hate, but I’ve managed to stay invisible after all the whispers died down. Jasper opening his mouth would ruin all the silence I’ve tried so hard to protect.

“Please don’t say anything,” I beg him. “I won’t ask why you’re here either.”

He’s not old enough to be here either.

He sets the tray down and grabs a towel off the counter. “My brother, Ace, is in charge of the bar. Since his wife left, our mom had to quit her job to watch his daughter all the time. He lets me pick up some shifts here to help out with the bills, but it’s still nothing to be proud of.”

Now that I really look at Jasper, I see the resemblance between him and Ace. They both have the same dark hair and hazel eyes with eyelashes so long, I’m sure the strippers get jealous.

“I didn’t realize you lived in the park, too.”

“I don’t,” he says. “My house is on the other side of the fence. But, since Ace’s in the park, they let me work. I’m family, right?”

Family. There’s that word again.

Knowing this job isn’t his first choice makes the shame a little easier to bear. But I realize Jasper’s situation has everything to do with me being here. Once Tess found out Ace was getting away with his underage brother working in the kitchen, she decided to take advantage, too.

Sure, Ace is in a bad spot and isn’t a junkie like Tess, but this job still comes down to the money. Jasper and I might be here under very different circumstances, but we’re more alike than I thought, and I never would have guessed it by what I’d seen at school. He seems so normal, like he has his life together.

“I’m sure your mom and Ace are glad to have your help.”

Jasper shakes his head. “At least I’m a guy and don’t have to walk around here like a whore.”

My pride wants to punch him in the face, but if I do that, I’ll get kicked out before I get paid. All I can do is absorb his words and say, “Thanks.” And then I grab my tray like the piece of trash I am.

He realizes what he implied and closes his eyes. “Winnie, that’s not what I meant. You’re nothing like Tess or anyone else here.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I whisper. “I don’t have any family to help, and I’m not here for the right reasons, like you are. But I am doing the best I can with what I have.”

“I know you are,” he says. “Your life is shit, yet you never give up.”

I go from wanting to punch him to wanting to laugh, even after being insulted twice. “You don’t talk to girls much, do you?”

“Shit, you make me nervous, Winnie. I didn’t mean that either.”

Nervous? Is he actually scared of me?

He grabs my hand when I start to walk away.

“What?” I say, afraid of what’ll come out of his mouth next.

“I’m no hero for trying to save my sister from this place. Just like you’re not a bad person for being here in Tess’s place. I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it.”

“Apology accepted.”

I’m not mad at Jasper, not even a little bit. Truth is, I wish I had a brother like him to watch over me and make sure I was safe. There’s nothing I miss more than the security Dad gave me. As long as he was around, I knew nobody would mess with me, and I’d do anything to have that comfort back.

Jasper lets go of my hand, and I wipe my palm on my dress. He notices. But it’s my natural reaction because the only people who ever touch me are the kind of dirty that doesn’t wash off.

I go back to washing the mugs, thankful Ace has been okay with me sticking to something so simple. Tess is expecting money though, so I can’t hide behind the counter forever. Eventually, I’ll have to get out there and try harder.

Jasper lingers for a few more seconds, and just before he walks away, he leans closer and says, “I know you don’t want to be here, but I’m glad you are. It makes my shift suck a little less.”

As he walks away, I find an unexpected smile on my face. Maybe it’s only there because he’s so awful with words, but regardless, it feels good to use those muscles in my face again.

I’m so used to being alone, I can’t be sure about Jasper just yet. But I wouldn’t mind having a friend on my side—someone who understood what it was like to be forced to do things you never thought you’d do.