Chapter one
Why Did I Agree To This?
Roxy
“Did you fucking steal my money?” Jimmy screamed as he slammed the front door. “Goddamn it, Rox. Why didn’t you pay the rent?”
“Roxy,” I muttered under my breath. He couldn’t see me from the living room, so I rolled my eyes as I flipped him off. It was time to put out another fire before he lit the whole place aflame. “Why do you always think I’m the one screwing you over?” I asked, walking into the living room. I sat next to him on the worn-out couch, making sure we weren’t touching, in case I had to make a quick escape.
“The fucking landlord cornered me. He wanted to talk sports like we’re friends. We’re not, but he thought he was loosening me up before he asked about the rent. I told him I’d have to talk to you since it’s your job to handle that shit. Did you fuck us over?”
“I paid the wife when I saw her the other day. She probably didn’t tell him, but I got a receipt. Why the fuck do you always blame me?” I didn’t ask the wife outright, but I was sure she had been stockpiling money to leave her husband. That was probably why the landlord didn’t know I had already paid. If the landlord asked again, I’d show him the receipt as proof, covering our asses.
“Try not to do it again. You know how much I hate him. Thinks his shit doesn’t stink.” Jimmy’s shoulders hunched as he sat on the edge of the couch, his elbows digging into his knees.
“He’s better off than we are,” I said. “Unless you want to buy an apartment building.”
“Probably already knew you had paid, sick son of a bitch. Just wants what I have, knowing you take care of me. You’re mine, so he should keep his eyes to himself,” Jimmy said, turning on his video game.
My skin crawled. I hated the way those words slithered down my back, leaving a frozen trail of fear behind them. I was no man’s possession, but it wasn’t worth arguing about. Jimmy would push back, thinking it was a fight. It wasn’t. He either didn’t listen to what I said to him, or he simply didn’t care. It could have been one or the other. At one point, I had thought this was going to be my forever, but each day I checked out a little more, not sure why I hadn’t cut the cord.
“Some guy at work has been talking about loading his car and driving off. He didn’t want to be tied down anymore, but the men on the crew laughed at him. Tried to sell us the idea of living free on the open road. Today, he finally did it. Shift ended, and the fucker drove off, his shit packed in the car.” Jimmy’s character died in the video game, and I couldn’t help but think it was poetic justice.
“If you want a vacation, take a chair and stick it out in the back. That’s about as much as our bank account can withstand.”
Jimmy always believed his own bullshit, but it had taken me some time to see through the tall tales. We lived a few towns over from the Jersey Shore, so I didn’t understand why he would want to go somewhere. If he really wanted a break from the monotony, we could lie on the beach for free.
I thought that was the end of the conversation, but the next night, he persisted.
“Come on, Rox. We’ll hit the road. Free to go wherever the fuck we want.” He cornered me against the kitchen sink. I never flinched anymore, preparing to handle whatever happened. “Think about it. We won’t have to pay rent. No more living paycheck to paycheck. We’ll actually have money for once. Be able to headwherever we want. Do whatever we want. I’ve never been over fifteen miles from the Shore.”
I ignored the nickname, picturing the what-if. We were driving in a convertible on the open road, heading to our next destination. Real suitcases peeking out from the back, but we didn’t own any. I’d have to pack our stuff using grocery bags. “How the fuck do you expect to pay for that? Ramen and vibes?” I crossed my arms over my chest, tiring of this conversation.
“You stop every now and again to work. Any restaurant is going to take you. Construction is a dime a dozen. When we stop, we’ll stay a few weeks, see the sights, and then when we get bored, hit the road again. Come on, Rox. It’ll be fun.”
“No, thanks. If you want to go, I wish you the best.” My mother had spent more money up her nose than she had worrying about her daughter. I’d grown up in poverty, and security was the only thing I craved.
“I can’t do this without you. I don’t want to, but you always shut me down. Don’t you see I want to give you everything?” He laughed, kissing my lips before heading back into our tiny living room to play his game.
I’ve heard that one before.I swiped at my lips with the dishtowel, stretching my aching wrists.
The night after that, he pushed during dinner, when he’d normally complain that he hated whatever I had made.
A week later, I was lying on the couch, every bone in my body hurting. I had said nothing, but when I winced, Jimmy took me to the bedroom. For a second, I thought he might actually notice something besides himself. Instead, he made me lie on the bed, undressed me, and started to sweet-talk me. This was the first time he was offering pleasure.
“Don’t stop,” I begged, letting myself enjoy the attention. His fingers plucked my nipples while he used his other hand to bury two more deep within me. I’d experienced nothing like this, and I was so overwhelmed, I just lay there. My mind focused on each sensation, soaking it all in.
I was staring at the ceiling when I felt Jimmy bury his head between my legs. He licked my clit with abandon—something he’d never done before. “Please,” I whimpered. I was so close to coming, and if he kept up the heavy strokes, I’d fall into oblivion.
Everything stopped as he picked up his head to ask me again. “Where would you want to go first? I was thinking about the Carolinas. There’s plenty to do, and I heard they can’t get enough people. Make enough to live like a fucking king.”
As soon as he started talking, he snapped me out of the moment. I had to fake a moan, and he bought it, not knowing the difference.
He kept asking, and I kept saying no, until one night, the dinner service had nearly killed me. There had been a fight in the dining room over some guy’s girlfriend going out with another man. They’d wailed on each other, running into tables, chairs, and other patrons. I had been in the wrong spot, holding a full tray, when one of them bumped into me. I couldn’t move as the plates shattered around me. The heavy ceramic stabbed me in the legs. I prided myself on my service, but defeat overcame me that day.
Jimmy asked again as soon as I walked in the door. I smelled like diner food, there was probably glass stuck in the bottom of my shoes, and I needed a shower. I said yes. Not because I wanted to but because I had nothing left.
***
