Through Fire (Portland, ME #3) (7 page)

“A man like that doesn’t expect you to go down on your knees. A man like that has no interest in forcing himself on you. Trust me when I say that Tim is quite able to find willing volunteers, if all he wanted was to get off. He certainly wouldn’t have to go out of his way to teach them to cook first. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I whisper, seeing her point. “But it’s difficult, believing that not everyone sees you as only good for one thing. That in the end, they don’t all want what for years you’ve freely given.”

The sharp knock on the table has me snap my eyes up to look into Pam’s angry ones. “Not freely. We’ve talked about this, Ruby. You weren’t exactly given a choice, even though you didn’t always have a gun to your head. You used what you had to in order to survive, but you never chose to be there.”

Pam knows I was forced into prostitution at a very young age, and despite the fact I never elaborated on the circumstances, she’s aware I was only fourteen when I was seduced with promises of a beautiful life. Instead found myself in a living nightmare. One that I’d become accustomed to over the years and that ended six months ago with a single gunshot. But it was only replaced with the prospect of a different kind of hell. So I ran.

“I don’t know what to do,” I mumble, dropping my head on my folded arms. “I don’t know where to go from here.”

“You’re already doing it,” Pam says, switching chairs so she’s sitting beside me. She puts a hand on my back. “You’re slowly reclaiming your own life. You’ve got your own place now. You’ve got a job. There’s nowhere to go but up, honey.”

“I’ll lose it all, if they find out,” I whisper, voicing my biggest fear; that the life I’m building will be gone in a heartbeat, once anyone finds out where I’ve been. What I’ve done.

Pam makes a hissing sound, admonishing me, “You underestimate them. I can’t blame you, but you’re wrong. There are many people in this world, the bulk of people, who are kind, who don’t judge, and who are ready to embrace anyone without judgement. It’s a tragedy that you’ve never had a chance to experience that. But in the life you have now? You just need to open up to let it in. Have a little faith.” Her voice becomes more impassioned and I raise my head. “Start small,” she encourages. “Viv often comes here to help with the group sessions, you know that. She’s heard every story there is to hear. That woman doesn’t have a judgmental bone in her body. Start with her.”

-

T
he alarm shows two in the morning.

I’ve been rolling around in bed ever since Pam dropped me off at home. She’d offered for me to stay the night at the shelter, but I wanted to go home. The concept of
home
still feels unfamiliar, but I want to embrace it. It symbolizes independence. Something I’ve not had before.

The thoughts running through my mind have kept me up. Everything is so complicated. If I tell people where I come from, if I let them in, I may put them at risk. I feel stuck in place. Every time I think of taking a step forward, there are consequences, and not just for me, for those around me too. People I’ve come to care about, even if they don’t know who I am.

I know Pam is right. The only way forward is to take a step, otherwise I’ll stay caught in this vacuum. I know the first step I should be taking is going to the police and telling them what I know. That would be the right thing to do. It would also bring my entire past to light, for everyone to see, and will eliminate any chance I have to build a life for myself.

That jump-starts my mind on thoughts of Tim and his demand for a
talk.
The scene outside Pam’s door had been intense. I believed him when he said he was sorry he upset me, and I’d surprised, even myself, when I tried to shield him from Pam. It doesn’t matter that I am attracted to him, that I like him, because he made clear he sees me as a friend. I can do that. I think. I’ve never really had friends before, certainly not male friends, but I could try. I want to try.

With the memory of Tim’s big hands spanning my hips and his heat behind me, I finally fall asleep.

R
uby

“Are you going to the shelter tonight?”

It’s Wednesday afternoon, and I’ve finally worked myself up to approaching Viv, as Pam suggested.

She turns to me with a smile. “Planning to. Are you ready to join the group? Want a ride?”

I shake my head. “Someone has to stay here.”

“Right,” she says, smacking herself in the forehead before turning curious eyes back on me. “So why were you asking?”

I look behind me to make sure we’re alone in the kitchen. Matt is out front and Dino won’t show for another hour. I have time. “Pam suggested I maybe talk to you.”

“Okay,” she says easily and waves at a kitchen chair. “Sit. Want some coffee? I just made a new pot. Decaf, though,” she says with a grimace, her hand instinctively covering her lower abdomen.

Oh.

“I had no idea,” I blurt out, staring at her hand. Viv looks down at herself, and then furtively at the door, before her eyes come to rest on me. She lifts her index finger to her lips.

“It’s new and we’re keeping it to ourselves for now.” She winks with a very happy smile on her face.

I pretend to turn a lock against my lips, as I fight off the twinge of jealousy. “I won’t say a word,” I promise. “And I’d love to have a decaf.”

When Viv sits down across from me, I suddenly get cold feet. I keep my head down but can feel her eyes on me.

“You know,” she starts. “If you’re not ready to talk about whatever is on your mind, we can always do it another time.”

I look up and see only friendly concern on her face. “No,” I declare firmly. “I have to start somewhere...”

Viv’s quiet laugh startles me. “I’m guessing that’s me? Bring it on, honey.” Her face turns serious as she leans forward. “I swear I can take it.”

I taken a moment to fortify with a sip of coffee before speaking. “My life...before I came to Portland... It was not a good life.”

That’s it. That’s all I manage to say before the words get stuck, but then Viv grabs my hand across the table.

“Figured as much, honey. But I also figure that you’re good people. Pam doesn’t vouch for anyone she doesn’t believe in one-hundred-percent. So I know. I
know
.” She enforces the last word with a squeeze of my hand.

“I’m a prostitute. A
puta
. A whore.” The distasteful words fly out of my mouth with force.

“Were...” Viv says softly, not letting go of my hand.

“Sorry?”

“You
were
a prostitute,” she points out. “I’m guessing the reason you ended up at Florence House is that you no longer wish to be.”

“I never did,” I jump in. “I made a really bad decision when I was young and got caught up in something I never thought I’d be able to escape.” I can hear how flat and emotionless my voice sounds.

“How young?” Viv’s voice sounds strangled. I’m surprised to see tears in her eyes. Tears that have long ago dried up in mine.

“Fourteen.”

A gasp from the doorway has me up and on my feet instantly. When I whirl around, I’m mortified to find Syd with little baby, Caden, in her arms, and Gunnar behind her in the doorway, his hand on her shoulder. Syd is looking at me with shock, but Gunnar’s face looks angry. Before they have a chance to react, I do. And I do it running, slipping through the door and out the back, where I run into the solid mass that is Dino, just coming in.

“Whoa,” he rumbles, grabbing onto my upper arms. “Where’s the fire?”

“Let me go!” I struggle against his hold when Gunnar’s voice sounds behind me.

“Ruby.” His tone is stern and invites no argument. When I turn to face him, Dino’s hands still on my shoulders, giving me unexpected support, his face is not angry but seems almost sad. Still, I flinch when his hand comes up, making him hesitate before he gently cups the side of my face. “Your age was a shock, but the rest of it? It wasn’t exactly a huge revelation. In fact, it explains a lot.” His hand slides to the back of my neck where he takes a firm grip and pulls me toward him. “There are two women in that kitchen, who know a little bit about needing to drag yourself through fire to find your peace. Talk to them.” With that he wraps his arm around me, and I let him guide me back through the door, down the hall, and into the kitchen. I stop just inside the door and blink against the burning behind my eyelids. Gunnar walks past me into the kitchen and reaches for his son before turning to Dino. “Office. You, Caden, and I have a menu to discuss.” He walks out with Dino closely on his heels, leaving me to look after them open-mouthed.

“Never mind those caveman antics,” Syd says, as she slides her arm around me and moves me toward the table, where Viv is still sitting in the same spot, her eyes red-rimmed. “But I heard what he said, and he’s right. You can talk to us.”

I’m stunned silent by their reaction, so instead of pushing me to talk or asking me questions, Syd and Viv do most of the talking. Their stories are so heartbreaking, I have to swallow a few times before I manage to start talking. In large lines, I tell them how I was kept in a
training
house, with other young women, for two years. I tell them about being moved around from city to city, and hotel to hotel, for years until I was of more value working behind the bar of a gang-run club, and looking after the new girls that occasionally would be brought in, than I was on my back. I even tell them that when I was a witness to a violent incident, I grabbed a single moment of opportunity and ran.

What I don’t tell them is that because of me, my parents were murdered. I also don’t tell them any specific locations or names, hoping that way I wouldn’t put them at risk. By the time I’ve shared all I feel I’m able to, there’s a half-empty box of tissues in the middle of the kitchen table. But a tiny seed of hope for redemption has been planted.

Dino walks in, with Gunnar right behind him holding Caden, effectively shutting down any lingering conversation.

“Sorry,” Dino rumbles. “If I don’t get prepping now, I won’t be able to keep up with the dinner crowd.” Without looking at any of us, he walks into the cold storage.

Gunnar walks up behind me and puts a hand on my shoulder. “You good to work?” he asks when I twist around to look at him.

“I think so. Do you mind if I give Dino a hand first?” The request surprises me as much as  it does Gunnar, but I feel empowered. No time like the present to learn the workings of a kitchen. I messed up my last opportunity.

“Fine by me. Viv?”

“No problem,” she agrees with Gunnar before turning to me. “I’ll holler when we need you up front?”

“Thank you,” I say to her, for more than just that.

“We’d better be off. This little one will be wanting to nurse soon.” Gunnar looks adoringly at the little sleeping face in the crook of his arm. “And the other two are likely raiding the fridge, as we speak. I just popped in to pick up some paperwork to do at home.”

Syd gets up, rounds the table, and surprises me by opening her arms and wrapping them around me. I feel awkward in her embrace and clumsily pat her on the back a few times, telling her
thanks
. “Anytime, Ruby,” she offers, before following Gunnar out the door.

Next is Viv, who just grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. “That took guts,” she mumbles under her voice, making sure only I can hear. “We can talk more anytime you like.” With a wink, she’s gone too.

“You gonna stand there, or give me a hand?” Dino’s gruff voice spurs me into action and until the first orders start coming in, I learn how to slice and dice like a chef. When I finally show my face in the pub, I do it smiling.

That little seed of hope is sprouting.

T
im

“What are you up to?”

My brother’s standard question has me roll my eyes. “I’m pulling on my boots to go out. At least I was until you called. What are you up to?”

“I need a drink,” he says, sounding beat.

“You’re in luck, I’m heading out to The Skipper just for that reason. Meet me there?”

I’m not kidding. I need a drink myself after the fabulous start to the week I’ve had. Brenda was obviously still pissed I ditched her last week. She’s been busy these past few days, making my life difficult. My own damn fault. I knew it was a bad idea to begin with and took her out anyway. This morning one of our engineers, Brad, nudged me when we were leaving the boardroom after a project meeting. One in which Brenda had made it blatantly clear to everyone present, with batting eyelashes and overly familiar gestures, that we have a relationship that goes beyond professional. I tried to ignore her, but it had obviously not been missed by Brad.

“You tap that?” was what he said to me. Son of a bitch. I told him, “Absolutely not,” but I could tell from the smirk on his face he wasn’t buying. To add insult to injury, my boss was standing six feet away and had obviously heard the exchange, raising his eyebrow at me.
Great
.

I’d holed up in my office the rest of the day, trying to keep my head down, wondering if I should confront her or whether that would just fuel the fire.

“I can be there in an hour,” Mark says. “I’ve got some paperwork to finish up and need to stuff something in my mouth. Haven’t eaten since fucking breakfast.”