This is just so that I don’t break my writing streak and one of my friends actually put me on a countdown for making a post. So here it is! This is actually the first chapter from the book that I’m working on. It’s called “Wild Girl Whisper” and is about a Vancouver escort. This chapter is about a girl named Rebecca who goes by the name Piper when she’s hooking and in a way, this is her twisted beginning.It’s currently unedited, but I’m actually digging on it as it is.
Sorry about it being so long…
The Beginning…In a Weird and Twisted Way –
I was standing outside a gorgeous three story townhouse in White Rock, British Columbia. It was dark and the path and the stairs leading up to the front door were barely lit. The door way was dark and all that I could do was stand on a dark street, on a damp sidewalk as my cab drove off into the 1am morning. Still I stood there staring up at the now gigantic and almost palatial three story townhouse that held either my anonymous demise or the solution to my week’s financial issues.
Breathing deeply, I inhaled the smell of wet pavement which is weirdly one of my favorite scents and tried counting myself down to charging up the dark walk-way and knocking on the every growing front door. Or ringing the doorbell. Or pushing the buzzer. What was I going to do? I wasn’t ready for this step. I was too young to die and if I did then no one would know I was dead. No one would even notice that I was missing for several days. I stood terrified in my black Under Armor flip flops, hip hugging faded jeans and baggy Adidas sweater. I danced on the spot and anyone watching me would have thought that I needed to pee, but I didn’t. I was just anxious, scared and my heart was racing three point six million beats a minute and I was calling myself three kinds of stupid for putting myself in this situation.
It was April 2008, I’d just turned twenty-one and I was turning my very second trick of my entire life. Ironically, his name was Jon and he was a forty-something business man who had called my escort agency offering $750 to any girl able to commute to White Rock from Vancouver and that was just for an hour of her time. He also offered to cover her cab fares and his only demands were that she be in street clothes and is the girl next door with no fake body parts.
And out of all of the girls at Wild Lily, I fit the bill the best. Meaning I still had all natural body parts and didn’t have dyed and fried hair to match my anorexic figure.
I was also the only one available to go out on any outcalls and who was I to turn down $750 for an hour’s work?
So there I was, willing myself to walk up to the front door and knock or something.
One, two, better not sue!
Then slowly I dragged my feet up the walk-way through a very well taken care of front yard to oversized oak doors that Shaq could walk through on his tippy-toes. Quietly I stood outside the imposing front doors and the only thing I could hear was the pounding of my heart inside my head as tiny puffs of air made miniature clouds in front of my face.
Huh. I’m hyperventilating.
“Get your shit together, Rebecca. You’ve done this once before. You can do it again. Just knock.”
I paused and rolled my shoulders backwards then forwards, then backwards again and forwards again. I breathed some more and realized some more that I was hyperventilating. I cracked my knuckles and wiggled my toes. I brushed my hair back over my shoulders then pulled it into a pony tail and then pulled it out so my hair fell down my back again. I snapped my fingers, cracked my toes and rolled my head around in circles. I’m pretty sure that a full minuet had passed while I stood there running through every nervous twitch that I had.
What can I say?
This was a stupid idea.
The ultimate in stranger danger.
I was totally going to get shot in the next ten minuets.
Did I go home? Did I turn around and leave? Did I call my cab back and pay out the hundred dollar cab fare home?
Of course not. I couldn’t afford to pay that kind of money for a cab anywhere for any reason. Officially I had fifty dollars to my name with a five hundred dollar rent that I needed to pay at the end of the month. Not to mention my Visa because I’d used that to pay this month’s rent, my cell phone bill and the fact that I was totally out of things to eat in my house besides one or two cans of soup if I were lucky. Between this call and what Cherry would pay me at the end of the week, I’d have enough to set aside for rent, pay my phone and buy a few groceries. Like fruit and bacon.
The idea of eating a package of bacon for dinner sealed the deal for me.
I hiked up my jeans. Then I tugged them back into place, tucked my hair behind my ears, cracked my knuckles and I counted.
“Three,” I whispered that final universal word for “you have to do it” and I knocked on the front door and I waited. Immediately a slight calm fell over me as the tension eased out of my shoulders and my armpits stopped sweating. I felt like I could breathe again, like a new person. I was invincible and amazing and that girl all the bad boys want.
I was Stacy’s mom and I had it going on. And I was waiting for the door to open. I don’t know how long I stood there waiting for someone to answer the door, but it was long enough for me to stop feeling like Stacy’s mom and start cracking my knuckles again. It was long enough for me to adjust my sweater, brush my hair back over my shoulders and burp quietly. It was probably all of twenty seconds in the real world, but in my world it was an eternity. Of course I didn’t realize that and I was beyond thankful that the door didn’t open while I was filling my mouth full of air that tasted like the Kraft Dinner with sliced hot dogs that I’d eaten earlier.
What can I say? KD and wieners are the breakfast, lunch and dinner of champions. Especially when I find KD on sale.
Nope, the door didn’t open while I was being perfectly disgusting and making my breath taste like a processed cheese and meat. Nope, the door opened a few seconds after that rather impolite moment and it was like a cliché scary movie playing out in front of me, starring me. Well, starring me and the mysterious and tall figure who was nothing more than a shadow in the now open door way. Possibly a shadow with a gun, but the shadows around him hid that. All I could see was a tall, lean shadow that was wearing a pair of pants. I knew he was shirtless because his pale chest almost glowed in the dark compared to the rest of his hidden in the dark body. I wondered if all white people glowed like this in the dark.
“Sorry, I almost fell asleep.” His was a deep, rumble of a voice that sounded like a giant cat purring in an acoustically perfect cave.
Immediately I vomited. Not real vomit, but word vomit. “That’s ok. It took me a while to get out here. My name is Piper, the girl you spoke to from Wild Lily? I was the only one available who didn’t look like Porn Star Barbie so Cherry sent me. Normally I’m just the secretary and receptionist, but tonight Cherry needed me to fill in so here I am. Hi.”
A deep chuckle rumbled from deep inside of his chest. “Hi”
Slowly and gently a strong hand reached out from the shadows and pulled me to join him in the dark. Hesitantly I let myself be pulled into the shadows and nearly jumped out of my pants when I heard the door click shut behind me followed by a dead bolt slipping into place. I also started to hyperventilate again.
“You’re new to this.” The giant cat voice spoke to me over a shoulder as I was led from an entryway up a set of stairs. I barely remembered to kick my flip flops off as I was forced to follow or be dragged along behind this shadow with a very nice voice. I was too busy trying to remember how to breathe to really remember anything like not wearing my shoes around in a stranger’s house. The politely bred sixteen year old in me was absolutely appalled that I’d almost work my shoes on someone’s possibly clean floors when flip flops were so easy to take off. I actually barely remembered how to walk. I stumbled up the first couple of stairs, tripped on the third and slamming into a surprisingly well muscled back. At that point I would have been happy to have any one of my normally natural faculties returned to me like speaking. Walking. Breathing. Not being a total spazz.
Unfortunately, some higher being chose to let me speak.
“Is that a statement or a question?” I asked.
“A statement. You’re nervous. Is this your first time?” His hand squeezed mine tighter as he spoke to me and I found myself walking more easily to my slaughter. I pictured myself as some dazed animal being led to some horrifically clichéd death that seems to await stupid girls like me. Shootings. Stabbings. Stranglings. Scarlet letters and stonings.
Right now the audience to the B-grade movie is yelling at me to run. They’re calling me a stupid girl and telling me to get out of their fast because he has a knife or he has a gun. Or they have all seen what he does to his victims and they cannot believe that he’s gotten another victim so quickly and so easily. They’re pissed off because I just walked into this guys house and they all know what’s going to happen to me next. Some people are already cringing and waiting for the blood to spray on the walls.
And while this is all going on in my audience, I’m vomiting more words. “This is my second time actually. Though I barely count the first time as my first time. It was horrifying and I’m not really sure what happened. He hump on his back and bad breath and he told me over and over again how much he loved me. I wasn’t prepared for something like that though. I’m not really sure how anyone could be prepared or ok with being kissed by someone when a kitten who had just hacked up a rancid hairball would have had better breath. I’m sorry, I’m babbling. You can feel free to demand my silence anytime that you want.”
When I stopped and took a deep breath, he chuckled again and tugged me into what I can only assume was his bedroom. Or an emperor’s bedroom. Floor to ceiling windows covered the far wall while a giant king sized bed, a fire place that had a real fire with a giant flat screen tv hanging above it dominated the room. It was a Spartan and barely furnished room, but what was there was lush and screamed of money. Lots and lots of money. The carpet was plush and soft under my toes and the room was deliciously warm. At that moment it was only lit by the fire crackling in the fireplace and I couldn’t help but fall in love with the cliché as the heat of the room chased away the chill of the rainy night I’d been standing in. He had bedside tables on either side of his bed and there was a tall chest of drawers beside closet doors. For whatever reason, I decided to focus on the chest of drawers.
“Do you make a habit of telling other clients about your former clients?” He turned and pulled my sweater over my head, folded it and placed it on top of the drawers.
Instantly I was horrified by what I had said moments before. “Oh gosh, no! I mean, maybe? I don’t know. This is only my second time after all so I don’t know what my habits are yet. But I can promise you that from here on out that my clients are assured utter discretion on my part. I mean, I didn’t use his name right? But I don’t know. I’m really, really nervous. I’ve never done this before.”
“I thought you said this was your second time?” He asked as he pulled me over by the fireplace. I could see more of him now as the fire light made the shadows dance away from his body. His hair was that classic salt and pepper look that I’m sure all dark haired old guys want. He was lean, but I could see that he was well muscled. His jeans sat loosely on his hops and as he turned around to pull me into his arms I saw that his chest was bare and I wondered that if that was natural or if he shaved his chest. All in all, he wasn’t awful looking for an older man.
So I let myself be pulled into his arms as I let myself vomit even more words. “Well, this is my second call, but I have never taken a hundred dollar cab ride to anywhere as a part of my job and I’ve definitely never gone to a total strangers house in the middle of the night because he wants to pay me for my…” I trailed off as I surprisingly stopped to consider my next words. “What exactly are you paying me for?”
His hands slid down my lower back and slipped under my purple tank top. “Exactly what you think you’re here for,” he replied.
That’s when my bosses voice started screaming in my head to get the money first. “You always get the money first.” Her sultry voice commanded in my ear as I pictured her as she was the other night as she sat with me on a bed and went over all the rules of being an escort for her.
“Oh yeah!” I replied to that stranger inner voice that belonged to my boss. Quickly I looked up into the dark eyes of my client whose name I had yet to learn and who had full intentions of boning me so that he could pay my rent and then some. “About that. Umm…” My voice trailed off as I considered how to remind him about the fact that he owed me nine hundred and fifty dollars. “About the umm…” There was no easy way of asking someone to toss that kind of cash out. I had no idea what to say, what to do or how to do it.
Though I did have the weird urge to simply go cross eyed and hope that he would jump to the conclusion I needed him to reach based on that action alone.
Thankfully, I didn’t have to go cross eyed or do anything weird. He seemed to get where I was going with my lack of social graces. He let go of me and walked over to his bedside table and pulled out a wallet and a thickly stuffed envelope. Casually he walked over to where my sweater sat on his chest of drawers and placed the envelope on top of my sweater. Just as casually he opened his walled and asked “You cabbed from Downtown right?”
I nodded and swallowed. I was getting nervous again. Which meant I started worrying when I was going to get shot again. “Yeah,” I replied slowly, “Wild Lily’s in-call place is near the Stadium Skytrain Station.”
“I know, I’ve called Cherry a few times. Normally I get Juliette or Heaven. They say it’s about a $175 cab. That sound about right?”
“It was actually only a hundred,” I blurted out before I realized that I’d just outted two of my…Coworkers? Yes, coworkers. I’d just realized that I’d outted two of my coworkers in less than ten seconds about their semi-expensive lie. I froze in place for a second before adding, “So you’re almost right.”
Laughing he counted out four bills and laid them on top of the envelope. “I enjoy your honesty and I almost enjoy how nervous you are. Though I’ll have to start asking for receipts from you girls in the future.” I heard the laugher in his voice so I didn’t worry overly much about me or any other girl having to provide receipts because I’d told on them. He returned his wallet back to his bedside table before walking back to me.
As he made his way back over to me, I looked him up and down quickly, checking for a gun or oversized knife. I gave him a once and a twice over, searching for a weapon of any time or a place he could hide a weapon of any type. When I saw neither I figured that I was either safe or that I was getting strangled tonight. I wondered where he was going to dump my body. I debated the fact that I needed to watch less TV. His arms wrapped around me again and I forced myself to breathe normally and to will him not kill me. Just like Mel Gibson in Lethal Weapon says that you just have to will these sorts of things to happen.
So I willed it. I was definitely not too old for this shit and I wasn’t going to die tonight. I wasn’t going to get killed tonight. I wasn’t going to get killed tonight and I wasn’t going to be another missing persons report and winds up found in as a pile of bones.
“Sweetheart, you have to calm down for this to work. The young and scared routine is getting old. You have to be at least in your late twenties and it’s just sex. I’m not going to hurt you.” His hands rested on my hips as he spoke to me. They were slowly guiding my hips forward so that I could feel either the hard handle of the gun he had hidden in his pants or he was one well endowed gentleman who though I looked older than I really was.”
“Actually, I’m twenty one.” I glanced up at him as I let him guide and fit my curves against his body. Then I glared at him. “Really? Late twenties?”
Smiling he replied mockingly, “Really? Twenty one?” Then he playfully glared down at me and bend me backwards over an arm so he could kiss my nose. “If you’re twenty one then I’m old enough to be your father. I’m forty eight.”
Laughing I leaned away from him and told him that my dad was forty five. Then dramatically I put the back of my right hand to my forehead and shouted, “I’m so young! Whatever shall we do?”
His reply was to unzip my jeans to reveal a neon green frog shouting “HELLO STRANGER!”
But still there were still twinges of fear in the back of my head. I tried not to ask. I tried to lose myself in the moment of this very rich man undressing me and the fact that he was paying me to let him see my silly panties and more. I tried holding my breath. I tried, oh I tried, not asking the question burning its way up my throat like a rancid burp. I tried and I failed. “So am I safe? I’m not going to wind up dead in a ditch or dead anywhere else am I?”
Chuckling warmly he kissed my nose and pulled me over to his bed, sat down and pulled me into his lap. “No I wouldn’t be so clichéd as to toss you dead in a ditch and no you’re not going to turn up dead anywhere else. Yes, you’re safe, I try not to make a habit of killing at this hour. It upsets the digestion, you know.”
I couldn’t help but snort and laugh. Then gasp in horror because I had just snorted. Me, a slightly upscale escort had just snorted when I should have been seducing and blowing my partners mind and other parts to Heaven and beyond.
Blushing, I wiggled around in his lap until I was straddling. “Well then. Now that we’ve taken care of that piece of business, I move that the conversation be stricken from the record and our memory for all eternity.” Playfully I leaned down and nipped at his lower lip while his arms wrapped around me so that his hands could fiddle with the belt loops of my jeans.
“As you wish,” he replied.
“I love that movie! Andre the Giant is awesome!” I exclaimed excitedly, totally forgetting that I was supposed to be seducing this man. At this point I was pretty sure that I wasn’t getting paid and would have no way of getting home tonight.
“You talk a lot.” His deadpan reply had me wondering where he was keeping the knife and other life stealing tools. I also started thinking about how I was going to get home with fifty dollars in my pocket.
I decided to try and play my silliness off and pouted. “Oh. Is that bad? I’m sorry, I’m new and I really have no idea what the hell I’m doing.”
“No,” his voice had picked up its warmth and rumble again, “it’s cute. I prefer that you’re real instead of some over practiced and over used prostitute.”
“But I’m an escort.”
“Sweetheart, that’s semantics,” he replied as he slid his warm and rough hands up and down my back and leaned into nip and nuzzle my neck.
And cue the naughty Harlequin sex scene where I definitely did not end up dead in a ditch.