Learning to Live (25 page)

It’s Friday night and the bar is packed. Janet has Chris working
the behind the bar with Benji since it’s crowded. She rented a Karaoke
machine to try help business pick up, and it looks like it worked. I
don’t mind having a busy night though because that means more tips,
and I’ll be done before I know it.
I’m running around the tables with Blaire on the floor and taking a
round of drinks to a table full of guys, and they seem to think they’re
better than everybody else. When I reach them they basically undress
me with their eyes, and I start to feel dirty.
“Here ya go, gentleman.” I place the pitcher of beer down with
some chilled glasses. I hear their laughter even through some girl’s
butchering of
Beautiful
by Christina Aguilera. I know they’re laughing
at me, but I ignore it as best as I can and ask if they need anything else.
“Yeah, kitten, why don’t you give us a private show later?”
When I turn and face
Blondie
I look at him like he’s crazy.
“Excuse me?” I might need their tips but not enough to take their shit.
I can feel my anger rise and know if I don’t walk away, I’m going to
snap. It’s already been a crazy ass night and my fuse feels short as is. I
was taught how to defend myself over the past eight months, and I
won’t cower now. “You mind repeating that?”
“Sure. I said we would like a private show later from Atlanta’s
own
Precious Love
.” He smiles and winks at me while I feel my skin
crawl from his stare and my stomach drop from his words.
I take a deep breath and gain my wits. I don’t know how this guy
knows my stage name, but if he saw me all those months ago, I’m sure
he’s just thinking I look familiar. I’ll play it off then walk away.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, and this isn’t that kind of
establishment.” I try to walk away but he grabs my hand and pulls me
in his lap.
“If I’m wrong then tell me what this is.” He slides a photo he has
over and I instantly freeze in my efforts to get loose and my face pales.
I see myself on stage all those months ago, and I start to shake.
“Where did you get that?” I ask, barely audible because my breathing
has become shallow and there’s a lump clogging my throat.
“Some guy gave it to us outside. He said we wouldn’t be
disappointed with the show and especially the after party.” I feel his
hand grab my breast, and I start to struggle again.
“Let me go,” I say when his grip tightens and I’m sure a bruise
will form later. I look at his friends for help and they only give me the
same disgusting looks as earlier. No one else seems to be paying
attention or are too drunk to care.
“Let her fucking go and take your friends and leave.” I look up
and see a pissed off Benji standing in front of me. I feel relief rush
over my nerves just knowing he’s there, but the picture keeps me on
edge.
Blondie
just laughs and says while nuzzling my neck, “Not
without this sweet ass here giving us some entertainment first. I have
enough money if that’s what you’re worried about.”
I’ve had enough of this and turn around to look at this dick that
won’t take a fucking hint. His buddies continue to laugh, like feeling
up an unwilling person is perfectly fine. I reach up and wrap my arms
around his neck then bring my hands and caress his cheeks. “I’ll be
done
soon
, Benji,” I say, not looking his way. I hope he knows that I
mean in a second.
Blondie
smiles. “I don’t think so, baby. We all get a round with
you. I heard you’re used to that.” He licks his lips but then screams as
my thumbs dig into his eye sockets.
As soon as he loosens his hold, I jump up to get away. I see his
buddies are fighting Benji, three against one. Luckily a few of the
bouncers show up after only a few punches are thrown, and the
assholes are removed from the bar. I’m shaking as I walk to where
Benji stands holding his jaw, and I hug him. “Thank you.”
He doesn’t say anything but guides me to Janet’s office to hide
from the onlookers. I look at his face as he leans against the desk and
see a little blood. I hate the fact that it’s there because of me. Then I
notice his shirt is torn and his under shirt sleeve is pulled up his
forearm.
That’s when I see the track marks. Bile rises in my throat and my
eyes start to burn. I feel anger and hurt at the same time. How can he
do this to himself?
He catches my stare and pulls down his ripped sleeve right before
Janet walks in.
“You okay, Trudy?” I bring my eyes away from his arm and face
Mrs. Janet, but I can still see the marks in my mind.
“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks.” I plaster a fake smile on my face until
she leaves and then turn my stare back to Benji. “Do you want to
explain to me what’s on your arm Benji, or do I just get to assume that
you use?” My voice is a hard whisper. I stand and walk up to grab his
arm.
He yanks it from my grip and steps out of my reach. “Well while
we’re telling secrets, maybe you can explain
this
.” He digs in his
pocket and throws something across the room at me. I reach down and
pick it up and feel sick. My legs give out and I land on the floor and
just sit there while I look at the picture that asshole produced earlier.
Benji must have grabbed it off the table after the fight because I
completely forgot about it.
I can’t speak at the moment and feel myself start to shake. Benji
comes into view as he squats down in front of me and lifts my tearstreaked face with his finger under my chin. “Look, Trudy,” he says in
a soft voice. “You and I both have demons we have to deal with, and
we do it in our own way, so I won’t ask you about yours and you do
the same. Okay?” He starts to stand, but I grab his hand and pull him
down. I look into his dark blue eyes pleadingly. He needs to
understand how much he means to me. How much I enjoy the laughter
he always evokes in everyone he’s around and this habit will slowly
tear it all away and ruin him.
My demons are different because I can’t change them. He can
choose to stop though. My anger only escalates as I think of the talent
being wasted. “Do you like the feeling it gives you? To be so out of
your goddamn mind you don’t care who you hurt. Do you do it for
kicks or to make yourself look big and bad?” I hate drugs because it’s
taken everyone that was supposed to remain in my life away. My
parents because they were desperate for their next high and Brian
because of the violence they cause.
I look up and see his face become angry. “Why does what
I
do
fucking matter, huh? I don’t owe you a goddamn reason or anything
else.” Again, he gets ups and walks toward the door, so to stop him I
say the only thing I can think of before he leaves. Why I feel desperate
for him to understand, I don’t know.
“They killed my son.” When I don’t hear the door open I know
he’s stopped. I glance his way and watch him turn back toward me. He
looks so shocked from my confession that I clarify. “Drugs. They
killed my son.” I look at my hands clenched together in my lap. “My
ex was a user and a supplier. He would get aggressive when he was
high, and it just escalated over time.” I know I have his attention, so I
stand up and lift my shirt to show him my scar. “Our last fight was this
past February. After a few punches and kicks, I ended up being thrown
on some glass. My liver was punctured and I lost so much blood I
should have died. I was almost eight months pregnant. They rushed me
to the hospital where I went straight to surgery for a C-section and
repair.”
He walks over and traces his fingers over my scar at first then
turns me and takes in my tattoo. “Are these his footprints?” Concern is
laced in his whisper.
I pull my shirt down because his touch is just too intimate. “Yeah.
He lived and fought for almost a full day, but he was too small.” I look
his way and straighten my spine. “After I was released from the
hospital, I had to take care of myself. I got a waitressing job at an adult
club after school at night. I only went on stage once, and it was right
before I moved here.” I look in his dark eyes and tell him in a serious
tone. “That’s why I don’t like you doing drugs. It takes
everyone
I care
for away, and believe it or not, I do care about you, Benji. And I’m not
the only one.”
He’s silent for a minute, then he’s sits at the desk and rests his
head in his hands. “I would tell you the reason why I do it, but it’s not
my story to tell.”
He looks up at me with such an expression of sorrow that I walk
over to him and give him a hug. “I’m not asking you to tell me why. I
just want you to really think about the damage they can do, not only to
your
life but those that care for you.” I pull back and get ready to
leave, but he grabs my face and kisses me. I’m so shocked that I don’t
react at first, but then I push him back. I face the door, shocked at what
just happened.“Why’d you do that?” I ask, wiping my lips and turning
back his way.
His understanding features contort into exasperation, “So you care
about me, but just not enough, huh? Is it because I don’t have a trust
fund or a rich family?” He stands up and walks in my direction.
When he reaches me he looks into my eyes. I feel as though I’m
being assaulted again tonight, but this is different. I feel burned from
the deep and raw emotions directed at me.
His voice is pleading with me, “We are one and the same, Trudy.
You’re just as broken as I am. Maybe together we can be whole. You
and pretty boy have absolutely
nothing
in common.” He’s hurt more
than angry, and I can tell by the way he’s looking at me.
“I do care, Benji, but I’m dating Jax. It’s not about status for me,
and if you knew me, you would know that. You need to fix whatever’s
going on with you on your own. I’m working on me.” I take a breath
to calm down before I walk out that door. I look him in the eyes, trying
to show him the truth of my words. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings or
led you on in any way. I’m going back to work and forgetting that kiss,
but you really need to think of the consequences of your actions.” I
slam the door and wipe a stray tear as I walk back to work. Tonight has
been a complete mess.
The rest of the night Benji’s missing, and I try not to think too
much about it. Blaire looks worried and I’m sure she’s aware of his
drug use. I remember begging Brad to stop and getting nowhere, so I
imagine it’s the same for her.
I walk up to her at the end of the night while we’re cleaning.
“Hey, Blaire. Sorry for leaving you for so long earlier.”
She smiles awkwardly and shrugs her shoulder while she walks
over to dump a few bottles in the trash. “It’s fine. No one really
ordered for a while after that because they were too busy talking about
the commotion. I’m just sorry you had to deal with those guys.”
“Yeah, me too.” I pause and watch her face before I continue. I
want to talk about Benji and his drug use, but I don’t know how to
approach the subject. I decide subtle is the best way. “Thankfully Benji
showed up when he did.” I watch her face fall and her eyes become
sad. She just nods her head and walks off to finish her tables.
I look for more photos around the bar wanting to know who
passed it on. I’ve been running through so many ideas, but none of
them seem logical.
Nobody knew I danced at night. I completely cut off all
relationships with anyone after Brian. I also moved because the
apartment was raided and destroyed after the cops found drugs stashed
away. Luckily the social worker found me somewhere to live for
relatively cheap, and I could still catch the bus to school.
I shake these thoughts away and finish closing up shop with no
luck on the photos. I don’t know what to do, so I decide to just let it go
and head to Jax’s welcoming arms.