You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Organized chaos? That’s a damn lie if I ever heard one. After the guys leave, I look around the living room and kitchen. Empty pizza boxes, fast food wrappers, beer cans, soda cans, and I don’t even want to know why there’s a bottle of lotion on the end table.
I throw my clothes in the machine and try not to trip over the several baskets of their dirty clothes. I have time to kill before the game, and I can’t even sit down without fear of something possibly attacking me, so I decide to clean. I search the kitchen and find an unopened box of garbage bags.
Big shock there.
I also find some cleaning supplies and rubber gloves. I’m definitely going to need those. I start in the living room and throw away all the trash first. I fluff the pillows and even align the furniture.
Please explain to me who needs a massive sectional that seats over ten people. Oh right, a millionaire hockey player. His entertainment stand is the biggest I’ve seen. Big Mike doesn’t even have a TV this big in the bar. I put up the game consoles, controller, and games. I dust and wipe down everything. I do the same thing in the kitchen.
I move my clothes from the washer and into the dryer and figure that it’s time to get ready. I go up to his bedroom and stare at it. Besides a pile of clothes in the corner and a few suit jackets hanging on a doorknob, the room is in fairly good order. The bed grabs my attention though.
It’s a California King, four-poster bed. I walk up to it as if it might bite me and run my hand across the royal blue comforter. It’s soft. So soft.
The emotions are building, thinking of the last time I even slept in a bed. I think it was my last foster home. The bitch and the bastard. All he ever did was stare at my tits and kept pinching my ass. The bitch would pretend not to see or hear him at night coming…
I close my eyes and push away all those fucking memories. That’s the past and I don’t fucking care about it.
I turn my back to the bed and pick up the jersey Valo left for me. The bright blue offsets the white of the letters Manner on the back. The number sixty-four is bold and almost shines. The eagle on front looks fierce, as does the ‘C’ on the upper left side.
I go into his bathroom and find a bigger mess.
Shit, what the hell is wrong with him? He does need a maid. I lay the jersey on the bed as I race downstairs for the cleaning supplies and a garbage bag. I throw away empty bottles, old razors, and all the other shit he doesn’t need. I clean the whole bathroom with bleach when I notice a watch near the back of one of the open drawers.
A Rolex.
Valo has a Rolex in a random drawer in his bathroom.
Well, doesn’t everyone!
I lean against the vanity and stare at it. I could hock this thing and have rent for the rest of the year. The gold gleams in the lighting and the diamonds sparkle as well.
Too bad I’m not a thief.
I’m a bitch and a stripper, but I only steal food and I haven’t done that since I was a kid. I place the watch back in the drawer and get ready for a shower.
This isn’t a shower.
This is what heaven is truly like.
There are three shower heads, marble flooring, and the shower door is crystal glass; it’s almost like there isn’t one there. I quickly strip off my clothes and step into the scalding hot water.
Water.
Hot water.
It’s a dream against my skin.
I had a choice to make this month: lights or water. I picked the lights because there are still moments where I’m frightened of the dark. I don’t like coming into a room without the lights on. You know never know what crack head may have slipped in through the fire escape.
By the time I leave the shower, my skin is pink and pruned. I’ve never felt this clean. Ever. On top of that, I smell like Valo. That’s a smell I could handle. It’s the mix of citrus and clean.
It’s him.
I wrap myself in a plush towel that’s thicker than my winter coat and go to the laundry room. I change into my freshly dried jeans and underwear. On the way to get the jersey, I stop at the fridge. I open it and my mouth drops. Even though the place was filled with take out trash before I cleaned it, the fridge is packed with food.
It’s all fresh and looks like what you see on those cooking shows. I wipe the drool away as my stomach grumbles. I had one peanut butter sandwich almost twenty-four hours ago. I need to space my food out, so I can get my water back on.
I reach for an apple and a banana. As much as I want to make a huge meal, I can’t do it because this is Valo’s food. I’ll tell him that I took it and I’ll give him back the money he gave me to purchase my own items.