Cora
Four years earlier…
“Chrissy!” I yelled, banging on the door to her apartment. I glanced over at Angela, who was standing in the walkway, chewing on her bottom lip. “You did the right thing.”
“We’ll see,” she muttered, turning her nerves onto her fingernails.
I started searching through my key ring. “Ang, listen to me. If she brings a john here, it puts us all at risk. At risk of the cops finding out. Or Dante or Marcos. Or, hell, even Manuel. I don’t know about you, but I’m not willing to hang my ass out on a limb for Chrissy to make a couple bucks on the side.”
“No. I know. It’s just I feel bad. She’s my girl, ya know?”
I shoved the key into the lock. “If she was really your girl, she wouldn’t have put you in this position to begin with.” I didn’t have a chance to turn the key before the door swung open.
Chrissy appeared in the entryway wearing a black nighty. Her thick, dyed dark hair was disheveled, and her lipstick lined the outer rim of her mouth. “Would you stop filling her head with bullshit?” She leaned out to glare at Angela. “I’m gonna fucking sew your mouth shut.”
Angela’s back straightened and her eyes flashed wide before she slunk into her apartment.
“Do you have to be such a bitch all the time?” I asked.
Chrissy grinned, all toothy and yellow. “I could ask you the same question.”
I scoffed. “I’m the bitch? You bring a john here, putting every woman in this building in danger, yet I’m the bitch? Jesus, Chrissy. Pull your damn head out of your ass for a minute and think about someone other than yourself.”
She rolled her eyes, propping her shoulder against the jamb, grinning like I’d told a joke. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s no man here.” She swung her arm out, inviting me in. “See for yourself.”
With less than zero interest in trudging through her trashy apartment in search of an even trashier man, I snapped, “Get him out. Now.”
“There’s nobody here.” She pouted her lips and drew an invisible X over her heart.
Then a woman’s voice I didn’t recognize came from behind me. “Uhhhh, because he’s right there.”
Spinning around, I caught sight of a half-naked man sprinting out of the parking lot. Luckily for me, it was the lower half that was covered. Though, after having witnessed his fur-covered stomach bouncing in the breeze, I wasn’t sure luck was the right term.
“Oh, would you look at that,” Chrissy breathed in mock disbelief. “You know, you should really have a chat with Angela. I saw her sneaking a guy in earlier, but I didn’t want to rat her out. You know being that we’re girls and all.”
I swung my burning retinas back on her. “Are you fucking kidding me, Chris? You of all people know better than—”
“Who the hell is she?” She jerked her chin toward the parking lot.
On reflex, I looked over my shoulder and found a tall, leggy brunette standing just inside the breezeway. She was wearing pink shorts that hugged her thin figure and a white silk camisole that didn’t show nearly enough cleavage for this profession but entirely too much for her to be a Jehovah’s Witness come to save my soul.
“Can I help you?” I asked just before Chrissy’s door slammed shut. I let out a groan, vowing to deal with her later. Though, short of calling in a Guerrero—which, no fucking way—there wasn’t much more I could do.
The woman smiled, revealing what had to be a small fortune in childhood orthodontics and a diet of clouds.
She pointed a manicured nail at Chrissy’s door. “She seems nice.”
“A real prize,” I replied, giving her another once-over. “What can I do for you today?”
“Oh, right.” She walked over, forcing me to crane my head back to see her.
I was short, but she had to have been at least six feet tall in those strappy, nude wedges.
Warm, brown eyes stared down at me as she asked, “I’m looking for Dante Guerrero.”
I curled my lip. “Well, that’s unfortunate. He doesn’t live here.”
She cocked her head to the side like a confused puppy. “But he owns the building, right?”
“That he does.” I opened my arms, waving them around, doing my best impression of a The Price Is Right model. “But, somehow, he manages to resist the urge to make this luxurious palace his primary residence.”
“Do you, um…know how I could get in touch with him? He told me to meet him here, but I didn’t get his number.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as panic flooded in my system. “Shit! He’s coming here? Today?”
“Um… Well, not today, today. He just gave me this address and told me to come over whenever I…um… had the chance. So here I am.”
I blew out a loud breath, patting my chest as if I could manually slow my racing heart. “Jesus. Don’t scare me like that.”
“Sorry,” she whispered sheepishly.
Up close, she was even prettier. She was older than I was, maybe thirty, but she had good skin and a nice, subtle hand with makeup. She wasn’t the kind of beautiful that would grace the pages of a magazine, but she was definitely pretty enough to think that maybe she could. The thought made me cringe.
“Can I ask what kind of business you have with Dante?”
“Oh, um…” Her eyes lit. “I answered an ad online—”
“For a model?” I finished for her.
“Yes! Exactly.”
I sighed. How the hell he managed to find this many desperate women was beyond me. And one that looked like this? Forget it.
“Listen. You seem nice. So I’m gonna let you in on a little secret.” I leaned in close and lowered my voice to a whisper. “It’s not what you think. It’s a…scam. Go home and forget about it. You do not want any part of this.”
I started to turn away, but she caught my arm.
“I got nowhere to go. I used the last of my money I had to catch a cab over here today. Look, I know what happens here. I got clients of my own. Rich ones. I’m just shifting teams. That’s all.”
Jerking my arm away, I stared at her in mock awe. “You’re from another stable?”
She nodded repeatedly.
“You got johns of your own?”
She nodded again.
“And Dante gave you this address?”
More with the bobble head impression.
I eyed her warily, searching for the truth in her big doe eyes.
There was none to be found.
“You’re so full of shit. We don’t run that kind of business here. Get the fuck off my property.”
“Okay, fine! I’m not from another…stable. But I’ve got experience.”
I rolled my eyes, giving her my back as I started toward the stairs. My phone started ringing, and after I’d dug it from my back pocket, Manuel’s number showed on the screen.
“No. No. No. Wait!” she cried.
But I ignored her, knowing better than to let his call go to voicemail. “Hello.”
“She’s fucking pregnant!” he boomed.
Wannabe-supermodel Heidi Klum followed me up, whispering pleas with every step.
“Who?” I asked Manuel, stopping on the second floor to snap my finger and point to the parking lot. Then I mouthed a stern, “Get out.”
She lifted her hands in prayer. “Please. Just hear me out.”
Manuel kept ranting in my ear. “I don’t fucking know. Whatever the hell bitch you took to the doctor this morning.”
Shit. Lucy.
“Turn her out, Cora.”
“No, wait,” I breathed.
The woman’s face lit.
“Not you!” I hissed at her.
Manuel continued. “I fucking warned you. She’s gone. Tonight. And if I have to come over there and do it myself, I swear to God, I’m taking River home with me.”
My head spun as all the blood drained from my face. I reached out, grabbing the railing to balance myself. “No. No. I’ll take care of it. I swear. Lucy’s gone. Right now.”
“Good. Now, thanks to your stupidity, I’m down a girl. So I don’t give a fuck if you have to hit the street yourself to make it happen, but I want double the haul tonight. You fucking owe me that.”
I didn’t know how he could possibly blame me for a prostitute getting pregnant, especially not when I went to such great lengths to make sure they all stayed on birth control and had regular access to condoms. But Manuel never needed a reason to blame me for anything.
“I… It’s a Tuesday night. The girls can’t possibly double the haul. Give me to the end of the week. I promise I’ll make it happen.”
“How old is River now? Remind me again?”
It wasn’t a question. And I heard his threat loud and clear.
My eyes flared wide, bile climbing up the back of my throat. “I’ll make it happen. Double the haul.”
“Tonight,” he seethed.
“Tonight. I swear.”
I held the phone to my ear long after he’d hung up. I had no idea where I was going to get that money. Tuesdays only brought in around three grand, which—less the thirty percent the girls got to keep—left me in the hole for over two thousand dollars. If it was a Friday or Saturday, no problem. The girls took down ten times that on a weekend. But there was no fluffing the books on a Tuesday. Not to mention, I was already down four girls, Lucy—poor fucking Lucy—making it five.
“Shit,” I muttered. This was going to be a big hit to my Freedom Account, but what other choice did I—
“I can get you that money.”
My head popped up.
A perfect smile split her perfect face. “I wasn’t lying. I got a rich guy on the hook.”
“This hook big enough to dangle two grand off the tip?”
Her head snapped back with genuine surprise. “That’s it?”
“That’s it,” I mocked, closing my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Why are you still here?”
“Because I’m thinking right now you need me. You give me four hours, I’ll have that two grand for ya. Six and I can make it a cool three.”
I pushed off the railing. “Generous offer, but what the hell would you get out of it?”
She turned her head away and whispered, “Protection.”
My mouth gaped as I stared at her for several seconds. Then I let out a loud laugh. “Protection? Is that a joke?”
She pursed her lips. “Guerrero girls get respect, do they not?”
“Maybe on the street, but respect is a big word with a lot of meanings.” I waved my arms around again, this time less like a The Price is Right model and more like an irate mother. “Within these walls, respect doesn’t exist. And don’t for one second think you will be different. Dante isn’t interested in you modeling for him. The man doesn’t even own a camera. He wants to whore you out, take seventy percent of your money, and then keep you captive in this building for the rest of your godforsaken life. So, if you have any concept of the word respect, you’ll get gone. Take your two thousand dollars, get a fucking job that doesn’t require you to lay on your back, and respect yourself. Now, if you will excuse me, I have shit to do.” I stomped up the stairs, all of my patience exhausted.
“I still need Dante’s number!” she called after me.
“Fuck. Off.”
“I’m dead without it.”
I froze, dropping my chin to my chest. She was dead if I gave it to her too.
I shouldn’t have asked.
I shouldn’t have cared.
I didn’t even know her name.
And yet….
“Who are you running from?”
Her voice got closer as she spoke. “I swiped a couple bills off a guy. You know, just to get something to eat and…and, well, I need help. If I say I’m working for a Guerrero, he’ll back off. I need that real bad.”
I turned around. “So go to the cops.”
“That shit doesn’t work. You know that.”
Unfortunately, I did. All too well.
“You have no idea what you are saying right now. Women don’t come here to escape—they leave here to escape. Do you hear me? This isn’t the place for safety.”
She defiantly held my gaze. “Maybe not. But like your little word respect, safety is a big word with a lot of meanings. Let me decide for myself. Okay?”
I reached up, caught the star on my necklace, and dragged it back and forth across the chain. “Please don’t make me do this.”
She took a step up. “You’d be helping me out a lot. And I’ll help you out too. I’ll cut you in on whatever I take home each night. Fifty-fifty?”
“Your cut would be thirty percent. Guerreros get seventy. And then out of that thirty percent, you have to pay fifty percent to cover rent and utilities. So, out of that two thousand you’re making tonight, you’ll end the night with three-hundred bucks in your pocket.”
“Okay, so you’d end up with seventy-five, then.”
My chest ached. “I don’t want your money.”
She took another step up. “Okay. Then I can help in other ways. Whatever you need. I can do it.”
“Jesus. Why are you so damn determined to do this? I’m giving you an out. Take it.”
“There is no such thing as an out anymore. You got an out? What about the other girls here? They got an out? No. And whether you let me in here or not, I don’t have an out, either.”
I huffed a humorless laugh and planted a hand on my hip. “You do realize you’re asking the devil for help, right?”
“At rock bottom, the devil’s the only one left to help.”
Wasn’t that the damn truth.
I shook my head. “I’d have to clear this with Dante first.”
“Okay.”
Jesus, was I really going to do this? Girls were usually dropped off to me. And here I was, letting a new one in when I finally had the ability to tell her no.
“If I call him, there’s no telling what he’s going to say.” I slid my gaze up her long, tan legs and over the swell of her large breasts.
She was gorgeous. If I called Dante, I knew exactly what he’d do to her. And it wasn’t going to feel anything like safety.
“I know,” she replied, hope sparkling in her eyes.
I held her stare, giving her every opportunity to stop me as I lifted my phone.
She said nothing.
Finally, I dialed a number, but it wasn’t Dante’s.
“Why the fuck are you calling me right now?” Marcos greeted.
Short of Catalina, I had no friends in the Guerrero family. But when I needed something, Marcos was always my first call. He might hit me, but he didn’t get his rocks off by fucking the girls. Marcos had a very specific type of woman he liked: the kind with a dick. Even if he’d never tell his family.
“Last chance,” I mouthed at her.
She smiled, folding her hands in front of her. “Please.”
I sucked in a deep breath and then ruined her too. “Dante sent me over a girl.”
“Andddd,” he drawled impatiently.
“He didn’t mention it. I’m just double-checking it’s all good if I get her set up here.”
Please say no. Please say no. Please say no.
“Woman, who made me your goddamn babysitter? Is she fuckable?”
I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “Yeah.”
“Then let her fucking fuck!” He hung up.
I tucked the phone into my back pocket and tossed her a tight smile. “Welcome to the building…”
“Lexy,” she filled in. “Lexy Palmer.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Cora Guerrero.”
She gasped.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m only a Guerrero by marriage.”
She gasped again, adding an eye bulge that made me laugh.
“And he passed away years ago.”
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. Just remember: I’m not one of them. Okay?”
“Okay.” She smiled big, wide, breathtakingly, and…cluelessly.
Though, a few years later, it turned out I was the clueless one.