Wrong Side of Town Ch. 03byTail End Pete©
Ahhh, fair readers, the story continues. Again, no sex. Sorry. The next chapter will be the last. These people are really too strange to let hang around any longer. Cheers.
Oh, yes. Some of the best comments I have received on any story I submitted were by some person named anonymous. I can't answer the questions if I can't find the person who asked. So, since anonymous is still anonymous, the answer to your questions are: Yes, NO, sometimes, 43, 4 weeks and 3 days, depends on how I'm feeling, and if you liked the story you'll love the sequel.
Tail End Pete
Lynn came back into the living room wearing an old faded sweatshirt and a pair of brown slacks. She'd put on a pair of old socks with no shoes. The towel on her head was gone and she had combed out her hair. She looked a lot better than she had a few hours ago.
"Do you want something to drink?" she asked as she stepped into the kitchen. "Do we have any soda?"
"Yeah, just a soda will be fine," he answered.
She came back into the room and handed him a cold can before sitting back on the couch. After they sat a few moments, she stirred and then pulled her feet up under herself, coiling herself into that corner.
"That last fight was a real heartache for me," she started. "On one hand, I understand what you are talking about when we discuss money, transportation, and other facts of life. I can handle discussions and talks like that as long as we are working on the basic routines of life, such as paying the electric bill and so forth.
Unfortunately for me, and by default us, I do have a lot of emotional ties to some of the 'stuff' we have around here. I understood from a factual point of view that the car was a money pit. I just couldn't bear to see it go because it was the last tie to my parents. That fire, in all aspects, erased my entire life. It killed them and left a pile of ashes. We both knew that the car was worn out. It only survived because it was back in the shop again," Lynn said quietly. She sat quietly for a moment while sipping on her drink, then with a shake she sat back up.
"Well, that is all water under the bridge," she continued on, "what's done is done. Now, about me." Again she paused, then said, "When I left here that night, I really didn't care where I was going. I just wanted away from the same old noise. I was mad at you for being right and I was mad at myself for harping on old crap that we couldn't do anything about."
She looked over at him through her lashes and said quietly, "I'm sorry. I was a nagging bitch. I was letting stuff get to me and we were both stressed to the limit. Can you forgive me, please?"
George put his soda down, stood and went to her. She stood up as he took her hands and they hugged each other for a moment. George was making 'it's ok, now' noises and rubbing her back with his hands. She stood and let him hold her close. The next thing she knew, she was sobbing uncontrollably. Her body was shaking as her sobs racked through her body, on and on and on. Months of worry, deprivation, abuse, and fear were cried out as she released her hold on her emotions. Strangely enough, she felt that everything would be all right now. She was safe. She was home. George must still love her or he wouldn't be holding her like this.
After a time, she felt George shift around as he sat down on the couch and pulled her down onto his lap, still holding her close as she wept. After several more minutes, she felt more in control and sat up a little bit. George handed her some tissues and waited for her to pull herself together. She reached and put the tissues on the table and drank some soda. She put the can back on the table and leaned back onto George's chest and tucked her head under his chin.
"Feel better now?" he asked quietly.
"Yes, thank you. Do you want me to get off your lap?"
"No, you're fine where you are. So. The fight is over now. Are you ready to explain where you have been?"
She sat quietly for a moment then said, "Yes, we need to get it over with. Maybe you better go back to your chair, though. I'm not certain you will want me to be sitting on you while I go through this."
George sat her back onto her seat and moved back to the chair. He sat and waited for her to go on.
"As I said, I just wanted to get away. I walked towards town, but I went on the side streets. I didn't know if you would come after me or not, but I decided to not let you find me. Eventually, I found myself down by the James Boys Tavern. I knew you would never look for me in a place like that, so I went on in. Lucky me, it was ladies night."
George nodded at her narration. Yes, he had finally driven around trying to find her. He didn't want her out at night alone. They lived in a blue collar neighborhood, but you still locked the doors at night. The James Boys Tavern was a seedy dive with a reputation for public disturbances (read fights), shady characters, and women of ill repute.
'Christ,' he thought, 'no wonder I couldn't find her. She knows me better than I know myself.'
"It wasn't very crowded when I went in and I was able to find a seat at a quiet table for two on the side. I ordered a draught beer and sat there and thought. A few men came over to buy me a drink, but I sent them on their way."
She stopped and looked him in the eye when she said, "I didn't go there to mess around, honest honey. I just wanted some alone time to calm down." She didn't move until he nodded that he understood. She didn't want him thinking she had gone looking for trouble.
"It was almost closing time and I'd decided to come on back home. I'd had a few beers, but I didn't keep count. I stood to go to the ladies room. I guess it was a rather abrupt move, but I bounced into some man who was walking that way himself. He ran right into me and knocked me over. I must have banged my head on the table as I fell. I saw stars and then nothing."
She paused for a moment, thinking and looking at the floor. She reached over and got her soda, then finished it off without seeming to know what she was doing. She jumped a little when George cleared his throat. She looked at the can in her hand as if amazed that it was there. She set it down and cleared her throat.
Then she continued her story, "When I woke up, I was on a bed in some motel. I had an ice bag on the bump on my forehead. I also had a headache. I remember sitting up on the bed. I wanted to go to the bathroom. I hadn't made it before and I really had to pee. I didn't get to sit up, though. My stomach turned as I got really dizzy and then I puked.
My God, that hurt a lot. At least I got it towards the waste basket and not all over the bed. Somebody picked me up in their arms and took me into the bathroom. He undressed me with one hand while holding me up with the other. When I was naked, he sat me in the bathtub and then filled it with water. When it was full enough, he used the motel soap and washed me head to toe.
Can't say I blame him. The puke on me really stank, but I couldn't clean myself. I felt grateful for the bath. He pulled the plug, lifted me out, dried me off, and put me to bed. It isn't that I felt really out of it, but I didn't even see who it was taking care of me. Sometimes I remember that night, but it is more of a dream sequence. Anyway, I woke up the next morning with a head sore as hell, headache, hangover, no clothes, no money, and hungry. I got up and used the toilet, then I took a shower.
When I came back out of the bathroom, a black man calling himself Joseph was sitting in the chair. He had brought breakfast for the two of us. I sat down at the little table, naked, and we ate.
While we ate, he told me what had happened. It was he who I had bumped into the night before. He brought me to this motel and kept an eye on me. He hadn't touched me except to clean me and put me to bed. That was the good news. I now owed him for the room, owed him for whatever clothes he could or would find for me, and my share of the breakfast we had just eaten.
That is how I met my pimp. He was the first to use me and he used me most of the day. After he used me, he beat me. He slapped my face and my boobs. He punched me in the stomach and my sides. After he was through beating me, he said that I now belonged to him. The second one to use me was Carl, his assistant. Carl was a rather dim bulb who totally loyal to Joseph and did what ever Joseph said. Carl also had a 10 inch cock. He used me once and only once. Joseph told me that if I did well, Carl wouldn't fuck me any more. But if I tried to steal or run away from him, Joseph said he would beat me after Carl fucked me and then kill me. Joseph has four other girls and e all worked out of the James Boys Tavern. The motel was out the back door and across the alley.
Before you ask me, yes. Yes, I tried to get to a phone to call you. Yes, I tried to get away from them. They were always on duty when we were working. One of them was inside the bar and the other was in the alley. We got a man, took him to the room, fucked him, gave the money to who was in the alley, and went to get another man. Today was special. Two of the other girls and I were going to go to work for another pimp. Joseph sold us for 500 dollars apiece to a man he called Willie. Joseph said that Willie went through a lot of women in a short period of time. He had a nasty look on his face when he told us that.
Anyway, Joseph took me and the other girls down to the corner to wait for Willie to come and get us. While we were standing there, I told Joseph that I had forgotten to get my purse. I ran back to get it, ignoring Joseph while he yelled at me, 'get back here, bitch'. When I got back to my room, Carl was in there fucking one of the other girls while some guy was watching them. I grabbed my purse and headed back to the corner. The guy who was watching Carl fuck the girl chased me down and was watching Joseph beating me when you showed up. That might have been Willie. I don't know. Anyway, I don't know where the other two girls were when I got back."
Abruptly she stood up and then moved into the kitchen. She came back a few minutes later with another soda and resumed her position on the couch. After drinking about half of the soda, she looked directly at George and asked, "So, what now? Are you totally disgusted with me? I've been a 50 dollar an hour whore for the last eight months."
George had been mulling over the story Lynn had been telling him. It all made sense and he could tell she hadn't lied to him about anything.
"You are right to a point, Lynn. But the question "what now?", will have to wait for a moment or two," George replied slowly. "Do you know if you picked up any STD's? I can't believe that all of the people who used you, as you say,..." he had to stop speaking for a minute and collect himself. He was all torn up inside. His head was a spinning whirlpool of half formed thoughts and he felt ready to puke his guts all over the floor. He wanted to scream, rage, cry, and beat someone, anyone, with his fists until he couldn't move any more. Oh dear sweet lord, what was he going to do now?
Lynn sat quietly, watching the emotional train wreck that was her husband. The look on his face was absolutely terrifying. She gave him time to calm down. When he had resumed some semblance of self control and had settled back into the chair, she rose and walked over to stand in front of him.
He stared up at her, wondering what came next in this cavalcade of horrors. She held her hand out to him, her face giving nothing away. Slowly he reached up and took her hand in his, then stood as she tugged on his arm. Turning, she led him to the couch and gently pushed him down on the end where she had been sitting, without releasing his hand.
She then slid sideways onto his lap, pulling his arm around her. She shifted slightly to get comfortable and rested her head back under his chin. Neither of them said a word. Slowly, quietly, time passed by as the couple sat there holding on to each other. Each was alone with their own thoughts, but totally aware of the other's presence.
Finally, Lynn sat up straight and looked George in the eyes. "George, do you want me back?" she asked quietly.