Echoes Page 2

  “I told you, Mom. I’m tex-laxed, and I’m not changing my mind. I went natural freshman year, but, after two years, I’m done. I love the way my hair is. It’s easier to manage, and I don’t regret it. Yes, my curls are looser, but I don’t care for them. I like my waves,” I answered her.

  She scrunched up her nose as if she didn’t like what she’d heard. She looked at me, and then glared at my armpit-length, wavy, dark brown hair and just walked out.

  I ran to close and lock my door. Then, the tears dropped one by one. I didn’t want them to see me in this state. They wouldn’t caress or hug me like I want them to. Instead, they would ignore me or be frustrated because I expressed my hurt. It was as if my parents had their first three daughters and, when number four came, they got tired of parenting.

  I turned around and looked at my reflection in the mirror. I removed the dress and looked down at my double D breasts. My eyes trailed to my stomach, which wasn’t flat according to anyone’s standards. My thighs didn’t fit in most jeans, and they rubbed against each other. The sight of my body made me want to hide. I felt too big to be around people.

  Sometimes, I prayed to just be wiped from existence. Then, I would wake up, look in the mirror, and tell myself I was worth it. I would tell myself I was beautiful and that if anyone didn’t like this body of mine then to hell with them. Yet, the moment I put the damn school uniform on, I felt the skirt was getting too small. Mom couldn’t afford to buy me uniforms as quickly as I outgrew them, which was why I started working at the strip club, Pyre. A job I didn’t tell my parents about.

  I inhaled deeply then exhaled slowly, doing my breathing techniques so that I didn’t get irritated even more. I got ready for work, wearing too tight and revealing attire. I wanted to leave home right after high school. The cash I made from working would provide me that opportunity. I shouldn’t have lied to my boss about my age, but I needed this money more than anything.

  My birthday, surprisingly, was the same day as Paris’. No one knew that except my friend Sharlene who worked with me. I walked out of my room wearing the ugly version of a diner outfit I showed my parents. I was ready for this shift and hoped those older businessmen didn’t try to touch me this time.

  ****

  When I got to work, I sighed in relief. The bus was actually on time, so I wasn’t late. I smiled and waved goodbye to the bus driver that had become like a grandfather to me.

  “Thank you, Earl. See you later!”

  “Be safe. I’ll see you at the beginning of my next shift,” Earl said, waving as he pulled off.

  I smiled at him and then made my way through the employees’ door, immediately walking into luxury. This wasn’t at dank, old, nasty ass strip club. No, this was elegance. When you walked in, the foyer’s tile was classic, all-black, with a hint of diamond detail that covered both the floor and the walls.

  Walking past the foyer into the club itself was an experience everyone should have. One huge chandelier hung over the room. The lighting was dim to focus more on the girls and less on the patrons visiting the place. The center stage had diamond detailing with diamonds embedded into the design of the stage. The club had private rooms for the dancers that wanted to offer much more discrete entertainment. I’d never seen a private room, but I heard the rooms were wall to wall velvet carpeting.

  The club was owned by the Mad Boss of Nevada, whom I hadn’t met in my brief time working there. The word was he passed the club down to his son, the Mad Prince of Nevada, though it was understood that no one call him that name to his face. I didn’t want to meet son or father. That would mean I did something I wasn’t supposed to have done.

  Working my shift wasn’t so bad until it hit midnight or around two a.m. That’s when some of the older men, dressed in expensive suits, came around with their eager hands. I shut my eyes when I noticed it was two in the morning.

  Happy Birthday, Imogene.

  When I got home, my parents wouldn’t be there. Dad and Mom won a cruise conveniently right after Dad came into some money and Mom quit her job. Yet, they told me I still had to keep my job because ‘I need to learn responsibility.’ I scoffed when Dad said those words to me. I already fed and took care of myself, which was why I was so hurt by their actions.

  I opened my eyes, straightened my back, grabbed the iPhone all the servers had and somehow made my way in those high heels to my table for the night.

  “Welcome to Pyre gentleman. Is there anything you desire?” I asked as I looked the first gentleman in the eye.

  He looked like he was old enough to be my father. He had thinning gray hair he clearly didn’t want to let go of, bushy salt and pepper eyebrows, a low-cut beard that matched the color of his brows and blue eyes. In his eyes, I recognized lust. It was a dangerous game, but there were rules at Pyre, and the men respected them. Whether it was a stripper, bartender, or server, if a girl said no, then it was no.

  “Are you on the menu?” he asked me.

  “No, I am not, sir. Would you like anything else?” I asked, masking the disgust I felt inside. I was glad I wore heavy makeup.

  “A round for the guys and the special today. Tell Burton in the back that it’s from Mr. Capi,” he responded with the ugliest smile I’d ever laid eyes on.

  He expected me to react, but I didn’t know who the hell he was. I didn’t care either. Neither did the guys who sat with him. If anything, they looked unimpressed.

  I nodded my head. “I’ll let him know, sir. I’ll be back with your drinks.”

  “Alright, baby.” His hand touched the back of my thigh, and I cowered inside myself, cringing from the feel of his touch.

  I didn’t hate being touched, but I didn’t want him to be the very first man to touch me intimately. I didn’t know who I was waiting for, but it wasn’t him. I strolled away from the table as if his invasion of my personal space hadn’t fazed me, then prayed I would make it through this shift without any other issues. I seriously needed this money.

  Paris

  I was only there to see if the reports about Capi were right. He was stealing from the Mad Boss of Nevada, and no one, especially not me, would let that slide. I sat back in the booth far away from the hype of the place. I inspected the scene, not wanting to be seen.

  I looked up as one of the regulars, Sharlene, came to my table.

  “Hey Prince, what will it be?”

  She was beautiful from her curls to her doe-eyed look to her killer tanned body, but I didn’t care for her anymore. I was seventeen, and she was at least twenty-four years-old when we started sleeping together. As great as our time together was, I didn’t want to get her fired—or worse, killed by my dad. She wasn’t my first, Marisol was, but Marisol was no longer here. I cleared my throat realizing I had zoned out, thinking about Marisol and Travis.

  “Nothing tonight. I’m about to leave. Gotta party to prep for,” I told her.

  “Well alright, see you there! Let me go make sure the new girl is doing good.”

  “New girl?”

  “Yeah, Eddie hired her. She’s been here a month. Capi seems to favor her. She’s right there.” Sharlene pointed to my right.

  I wouldn’t have recognized Imogene if I hadn’t just seen her a couple of hours ago. That was not the girl I just saw in school. Granted, I wouldn’t have missed that body by a long shot. She wore that tight maid outfit like it was a second skin. I shut my eyes and opened them again, hoping she was a figment of my imagination. She was still there. I eyed Imogene as she sauntered towards Capi’s table with the drinks in hand like an expert. I narrowed my eyes as Capi’s hand landed on the small of her back—way too close to her ample ass.

  Was I blind before when I looked at Imogene?

  I gritted my teeth as I saw the look in her eyes. She didn’t want Capi to touch her, but she was allowing it. Why? Something more powerful and dangerous than rage exploded inside of me, and it was unfiltered. My God, I hadn’t been this mad since the funeral. I shook my head, not wanting those memories to resurface. I stood up from the table and made my way towards Capi’s table.

  Imogene didn’t see me at first. I was happy for that. I made my way over and slipped behind her. I rested my hand on top of Capi’s, and he finally took his disgusting old ass eyes off her.

  Capi smiled at me until I removed his hand, held it, then twisted it, causing him to scream.

  “Sshh…” I leaned into his face livid unable to control my rage.

  “Prince, I— Shit. What did I do now?” He whimpered like the little pussy he was.

  “Don’t touch her. You hear me?”

  “I didn’t know. I—”

  “Strike three, Capi.” I gritted my teeth and twisted his wrist until I heard it snap.

  Capi yelped and immediately began nursing his wrist as I let go.

  Imogene turned to face me. Her eyes bugged out like a cartoon character; she just stared at me. “P…pa…pa…par—,” she attempted to say my name.

  “Let’s go, right now,” I shouted at her.

  “Huh?” She didn’t get a moment to breathe. I took her hand and walked toward the entrance. “Wait, wait, my stuff. I need my stuff. I can’t go back home without it,” she retorted.

  I sighed and took a left near the entrance into the locker room. I didn’t let go of her hand as I made my way into the area and pointed. “Which one is yours?” I asked.

  “Number seventy three,” she said softly.

  That was my jersey number. I paused for a moment, wondering why I wasn’t hesitant in my actions toward her. Then, I shook my head as we got to her locker.

  “Combination,” I barked.

  “Zero one, zero six, zero zero,” she whispered.

  I turned to look at her. That’s my birthday.

  “It’s my birth
date,” she quickly replied.

  I grinned. “Same. Well, you know that’s my birthdate, but I didn’t know that about you. Happy birthday.” I smiled widely at her.

  Imogene mirrored the action back at me as if I had just given her a puppy. “Thank you!”

  “What’cha got planned?” I asked her as I turned back around to open her locker.

  “Wait!” she screeched as if she were hiding a body inside. It was too late. When I opened the locker, I knew why she hollered.

  I smiled even wider as I saw the picture taped to the locker door. It was a picture of us in sixth grade. I didn’t even remember taking that picture, but I did know it was her and I.

  I turned and looked down at her. “You gotta crush on me or somethin’?”

  “What?” Her voice was almost inaudible.

  I chuckled as I leaned down and looked at her face to face. “I kinda like that you do.”

  She blinked once then twice, remaining silent as if she were a mute refusing to talk. I smirked, bit my bottom lip and winked at her. Then, I stood upright as I grabbed her things from the locker.

  We walked out of the locker room with staff and regulars staring. I could care less what they thought. I ignored each of them them as we walked out.

  “Are you going to let go of my hand?” Imogene spoke up.

  “Nope.” I continued to guide her out of the club as if I had a right to do just that.

  Chapter 3

  Imogene

  I was in Paris Troy’s car. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my everlasting father God! I needed to calm down and keep my shit in control. We were in a black Jeep that looked brand spankin’ new. I itched to touch the interior of everything, but I knew myself. I was a klutz and would break something, so I kept my hands to myself.

  “Why are you working there?” His harsh tone broke the silence as he continued to drive.

  Did he know where I lived?

  “I, uh… wait do you know my address?” I asked.

  Paris looked at me quickly and then back at the road. “No, you wanna tell me or you prefer I drop you down the block so that I don’t know?”

  I looked at him. He was serious. I wanted to scream. Paris freakin’ Troy was driving me home, and I couldn’t believe it. Did he know his eyes were beautiful? They made him undeniably attractive. Then, it was the way his facial features were defined. It was like he wasn’t simply born but molded by a talented artist. His Greek-like nose, his dimples, and his smile, it all made me swoon. I used to wonder if he wore contacts, but when I found out those were his real eyes, it made him even more beautiful to me—if it’s okay to call a man beautiful.

  All I wanted for my birthday was for Paris Troy to notice me. I couldn’t help but to smile widely. For the first time in my eighteen years alive, my wish had come true. I set my eyes towards the road, shut them, and squealed, completely forgetting about my surroundings.

  “What the hell? Imogene are you okay?”

  I kept my eyes shut as I cleared my throat. I made sure to compose myself before I opened my eyes. Then, I turned to face him.

  “I’m alright. I’ll put my address in for you,” I said as I reached out for his phone, giving it to him to put his fingerprint in.

  “Cool, so where you going for college?” he inquired.

  I tried to concentrate on putting my address into the GPS instead of his soothing voice.

  “I—uh, I’m going to the University of Nevada,” I replied quickly. A lot of the senior students were going off to California, but I could only afford to go to Reno.

  “Nice!” he exclaimed. “I’m going there too.”

  “Why?” I was more stunned than anything. Paris could go anywhere he wanted to go. Why would he settle for Reno?

  He chuckled as the GPS began giving directions.

  “Why not?” He shrugged his shoulders. “I think it would be a good opportunity. Plus, I don’t want to go that far away from my family. Three hours by plane is good enough for me.”

  “Oh.” Did Paris just share something personal with me? “I see.”

  “Yeah? Why are you going that close? Why not across the state or something?”

  I turned, looking out the window away from his presence. “I can only go as far as my money lets me go. I wish I could go further away.”

  “Why?” he questioned, mimicking my earlier inquiry.

  “It would be better for everyone.”

  I shut down after that, and we fell into a peaceful silence. It wasn’t bad. I didn’t have to force myself to talk and neither did he. Before I realized it, I had shut my eyes and fell asleep. When I came to, we were parked in my driveway. I cringed when I opened my eyes and looked over at the time. It was four in the morning,

  “How long have we been here?” I asked as I sat up.

  Paris shrugged. “Not too long, an hour or two tops.”

  “I’m so sorry. Was I not waking up? My mother says I am a heavy sleeper and I tend to not hear anything, but I don’t think I am. Honestly, I don’t think I am a heavy sleeper. That’s why it’s so hard for me to get any shut-eye, but somehow I was able to sleep in the car just now and—” My rambling was cut off by Paris’ laugh.

  “Slow down little lady. You’re talking a mile a minute.”

  “Shoot! Sorry.” I nervously chuckled as I ran a hand through my hair. I could feel the curls forming. I gathered my things and got ready to get out of the car.

  “You should really learn to put a password on your phone,” Paris suggested.

  My eyes almost fell out of their sockets.

  He laughed again. “Don’t worry, I didn’t look through it. I just added my number and texted myself.”

  “Oh, okay.” I was stunned.

  I have freakin Paris Troy’s number in my phone!

  “Also, when you need a ride somewhere, call me, no matter what time. You hear me?” The smile on his face gone. His seriousness directed towards me.

  “Okay.” I blinked, still not believing this was happening. I collected my things and got out, well, jumped out of his Jeep. “Have a good night, Paris. I’ll watch you drive away, then I go inside.”

  Paris looked at me like I was crazy. “Like hell. I’m going to watch you go in. Then, I’ll drive off when you text me that you’re good and well.”

  “Seriously Paris, you don’t have to do tha—”

  He cut me off once again. “I do. Now get your pretty little ass inside.” He winked at me again.

  He thinks I’m pretty?

  I couldn’t hide my smile even if I wanted to. I waved goodbye as I shut his passenger door and made my way up the doorsteps quickly. I went inside and shut the door, locking it. I didn’t bother to turn the lights on as I made my way to my room while texting Paris to say I was good.

  Me: Did you really save yourself as My Paris? Lol btw I’m good now, you can leave.

  My Paris: I did. Problem? And good, I’m leaving now. See you Monday.

  Me: No problem at all. Goodnight see you Monday.

  My Paris: Aren’t you glad I’m your crush?

  I couldn’t reply after that. I was too busy gushing over the fact he didn’t freak out about being my crush, and he thought I was pretty.

  Paris

  I watched as Imogene made her way into her house. I looked around, but I didn’t see another car in the driveway, nor did any lights come on when she was in the house. Could she see without her glasses? Something didn’t feel right about leaving her, but I had to go home and went to sleep because the next day was going to be crazy. I couldn’t believe I was eighteen years old. I was excited about my birthday, but as I sat there parked, my mood turned sour.

  I shut my eyes as memories of Marisol, Travis and I talking about what we would do when we turned eighteen while camping.

  “You know what I think we should do?” Travis began the conversation with a question. We were sitting on the bench enjoying lunch. I was across from Travis, with my arm around Marisol.

  “What should we do?” I asked him.

  “I think we should ask your dad if we could have a party at your house and invite the whole senior class. It would be epic, and it’s not like we need permission to get drinks. Your dad has been letting you drink since when?” He looked at me shaking his head. I glanced at Marisol to see if she was all for this.