Rich sighed, inspecting her arms. “Come on, let’s clean those up.” He led Angel upstairs to the bathroom and sat her on the edge of the bathtub. He squatted down and scrounged around in the cabinet under the sink. He withdrew a bottle of peroxide, gauze, Neosporin, medical tape, and two white cloth wraps. He set the items on the sink before retrieving a hand towel from the hall closet. He sighed as he sat on the toilet and reexamined Angel’s arms.
“Hold them over the tub.”
Angel obeyed and he gently poured peroxide on her arms. She watched as they bubbled slightly as the peroxide killed the bacteria in them. Rich poured a bit more on them before using the hand towel to dry her off. He then spread Neosporin on the cuts and covered them with gauze. He used the medical tape to secure the gauze and then wrapped the cloth wraps over her arms.
“You know the routine. We’ll check them again tomorrow and redo your bandages.”
It was a routine they were both used to. When Angel first came into Rich’s house, she was manipulative towards her own body. She would have night terrors so extreme and vivid that she would claw at her own flesh, in her sleep. Occasionally Angel would get so depressed she would cut herself. She had since gotten out of her manipulative habits, but that by no means she no longer had the terrors and depression.
Rich was aware of it all, and would dress her wounds and give her a Seroquel, then send her to bed to sleep off her depression. The Seroquel would make Angel numb. Completely numb. Angel wouldn’t even be able to think straight. Angel was able to keep herself from harming herself simply because she didn’t like the Seroquel.
Rich had Angel tell him what had happened, in full detail. By the end, Rich shook his head in disappointment. “This isn’t your fault Angel.”
Angel knew this all along, but was shocked to hear Rich say it. She followed him as he went back downstairs.
He sat on the couch and motioned her to sit next to him. She obeyed, her body tense as she still expected to be beaten for the night’s incident. Rich wrapped an arm around her shoulders as he began a movie from Netflix. She felt him pull her closer to him, and soon he was pressing her head towards his lap. Instinctively, she began to undo his pants.
He swatted her hands away. She looked up at him, confused at his actions. He glanced down with stern eyes, “relax.”
Angel lowered her head and rested it in his lap. She watched to movie for a bit before her eyes became heavy and she drifted to sleep.
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Rich woke Angel at seven. He instructed her to take a shower and get something to eat before tending to Emily.
In the shower, the steam filling Angel’s mind and swirling about inside her, she thought of Emily. She wondered what would have made a girl join this life. Of course, she knew the answer; a shitty home life. There wasn’t a girl in this life who didn’t have their own sob story about their life before selling sex. After a while, the stories all overlapped. They blended and blurred together until it was one long, continuous sob story. Angel and Emily were no different than the other girls, and the other girls were no different than them. They were all easy targets for people like Rich to prey on and play on their horrible home life. Each girl was promised a bright future, full of lavishes and luxuries. More of the fake façade of this life.
Angel turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. She toweled herself off and dressed before heading downstairs.
Rich had a box of cereal on the table. He sat, reading the newspaper, sipping coffee, and shoveling cereal into his mouth.
Angel sat across from him, pouring her own cereal. She realized the sight of them must have been something else. To any normal person they probably looked like a normal couple eating breakfast. Any normal person would assume he would fold up his paper, kiss her goodbye and leave for work, and she would stay and clean the house like a good housewife. If only they knew. If only they knew that she was his slave, selling her body for his pleasures. If only they knew of the beatings and yelling. To the outside world, nothing was wrong. The outside world was blind.
Angel and Rich ate silently. When they had finished, Angel took their bowls to the sink and scrubbed them clean before placing them back in the cabinet. Rich knew she was stalling.
“Angel.”
She paused.
“Go clean up Emily.”
She bowed her head. She pulled a bowl back out of the cabinet and filled it with warm water. She picked up a washcloth and headed upstairs.
Emily was still asleep when Angel walked into the bedroom. Slowly, Angel pulled back the blanket to reveal Emily’s body.
It took every ounce of strength for Angel to keep from letting the tears fall down her cheeks, but inside, she was sobbing for the girl.
Emily was laying on her stomach with her hair covering her face. She was naked. Her body was bruised, and dried blood coated her inner thighs.
Angel gently moved the hair from Emily’s face, “Emily? It’s time to wake up sweetie.” She tried to be as calm and gentle as possible.
Emily’s eyes fluttered open as she let out a soft whimper.
“Shh, just relax. I’m going to clean you up a bit, ok?”
Another whimper.
Angel dipped the cloth into the bowl of water and ever so gently, she rubbed down Emily’s back and legs. She tried her best to rub away the dried blood, but Emily would need to shower to get rid of it all. She helped Emily roll onto her back and Angel gently rubbed down the front of her body.
“Let me get a towel. I’ll be right back.”
She stood and left the room, closing the door behind her. Rich was waiting in the hall. Angel said nothing as she opened the hall closet and pulled down a towel from the top shelf.
“How is she?”
“She’ll be alright, no thanks to you.”
Rich growled, “what?”
Angel didn’t respond, making Rich growl again. He put out his arm in front of her, preventing her from returning to the bedroom. “What did you say?”
Angel glared at him “you raped her didn’t you? Her legs are caked with blood!”
Rich grabbed her by the throat “I’ll take what is mine and I’ll do as I damn well please, and no common street whore will argue with me.”
Angel continued to glare.
Rich glared back for a moment longer before releasing her to return to Emily.
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Emily stayed in bed the rest of the day. Angel took food to her, but she refused to eat. Angel knew the girl would need all the strength she could get to survive the brothel, but she could not force the girl to eat.
Rich relaxed in front of the TV most of the day. If he cared at all about the girl upstairs, he did not show it. He was much too interested in his TV shows to give much thought to anything else in the world.
Angel sat on the stairs. From there, she would be able to hear if Emily needed her, and would be available if Rich called. She stared out into space as her mind flashed back to her childhood with Frank. Caught in her memories, she didn’t even realize tears were falling from her eyes.
Rich glanced over his shoulder at her, “what’s the matter with you, girl?” But she did not respond. He was not even paying attention to her. She didn’t matter to him. She was just another paycheck. A common street whore.
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