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Tainted (Oh Captain, My Captain 7)

Page 5

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“It’s good money. Eighty-twenty.”

“Well, call the fucking government because that sounds like a great deal when a lying pimp says you can have ten bucks from sucking dick. What do you get if you take it up the ass? Fifteen dollars and a lollipop from your daddy?”

“You’re such a bitch,” she growls at me.

“I don’t think that’s a shock. How long you been working for him again?” I hate she’s going back to her old ways. I thought for a moment that when she left jail the last time, she was going to try. This is why I don’t hold on to hope.

“About a week.” Mom shrugs. “It’s hard for me, Jade. I’m thirty-six years old and my rap sheet is longer than my damn arm. What else is there?”

I shake my head.

“Maybe if I hadn’t had a spoiled fucking brat when I was fifteen, I could have made something of myself, but instead, I got you.”

It’s the same story that she tells over and over again. Any time there’s something wrong in her life, it’s because of me and the fact she was a teenage mother.

“You could have gotten rid of me and saved us both some trouble.”

She doesn’t answer me as the bus pulls up. I shouldn’t be surprised she doesn’t have any money and walks right past the machine to pay. I debate on whether I should pay for her or not, but there are people waiting behind me and I slip money in for both of us and sit next to her.

When the bus drops us off at the Greenwood Projects, the crack heads are in full force, walking up and down the sidewalk. I rush off the bus and head straight to my place. I don’t care which way Mom goes, or at this point, what happens to her. Because of her ass, I’m going to have to walk to work. I need to make some serious cash in the next two nights to make rent.

I slam my door and make sure it’s locked. I have about two hours before I need to head to work and I lay out on the couch. I flip the TV on and there he is.

Valo Manner.

His blue eyes are piercing and when his thick Finnish accent comes through the speakers, it almost makes me smile. He seemed like a great guy and terribly sweet when he approached me last week at the bar. Poor guy, he doesn’t have a clue.

He’s a great player and leader on the ice, but I would eat him up and spit him out. I mean, he thought I was a teacher. No part of my black hair, fishnet stockings, or leather skirt said teacher.

Valo’s the type to marry a Victoria Secret model, have blonde babies, and vacation in Fiji. I can barely spell Fiji or pick it out on a map. I don’t see me going there for a vacation anytime soon.

I listen to the interview and how the Eagles might actually make the playoffs this year. Ha, doubt that. The new general manager just cleaned up the roster about two years ago and the team still isn’t connecting.

Fuck, I have to stop listening to Big Mike when he talks about hockey. He’s trying to brainwash me.

I flip off the TV and close my eyes.

~

“Fuck, what is with all the damn glitter?” I yell at the other girls. I need to change into my outfit and get on stage in about ten minutes when Big Mike comes to the dressing room.

“Jade, you need to help out waitressing tonight.”

“Hell no,” I bark at him. Big Mike is about 6’10” and four hundred pounds. People don’t usually mess with him, except me. Of course, I’m not scared of him. All men can come down to my level with one quick kick in the balls. I’ve done it more than once in my life.

“I’m not playing. I’m short-handed and there’s a bunch of guys out here. You’re the only one who can do it.”

“Fuck,” I mumble and adjust my lace boy shorts. “Fine.” I’m going to have to flirt my ass off to get tip money; most the guys would rather stick it in a G-string than give it to the bitch bringing the drinks. I adjust my bra and make sure my boobs remain high and perky. My white thigh-highs with red bows match the tiny bow on the back of the boy shorts.

I head to the bar, grab a tray, and look around the dark room. The only lighting is small, dimly lit lamps on the tables and the bright, almost blinding lights that point to the stage. I start at the back of the room and begin to flirt with every drunken frat boy and old geezer who grabs my ass every chance they get. I just giggle and pretend to swat them away. This is going to be a long ass night. I go to the corner of the bar and give out the orders when I feel someone standing close to me.

Great, another fucker who’s going to hit on me.

“I think I just won a bet.”

My mouth falls as I hear the thick Finnish accent of Valo Manner.

Chapter Four



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