Runaway Husband

10: The Brothel

Yeah, Brent was right. He said I'd be busy. I'm busy. I'm busy every fucking night so far. I don't know if this was a great idea after all. But I am making a little bit of extra money.

I cringe as I bring my knees to my chest, the huge hairy man above me pushing them down even further until they are by my head. This really fucking hurts! I squeeze the bed sheets as this animal of a man continues to take over and use my body for his own selfish pleasure. I need something to bite on or anything to help with this pain! He didn't even prep me but he at least used spit. Not enough though.

"You like that princess? You feel me deep in your tummy?"

I let out a fake moan. This man is fucking small if you know what I mean. Enough to cause me pain but definitely not feeling anything in my stomach except for shame and regret. I glance over at the clock and want to cry. I have to be at Anita's in two hours. I just want to fucking sleep!

"Harder baby? You want me to tear you in half?" He puts his huge hand on my throat and I'm instantly back in Las Vegas, staring up at Ezra's angry black eyes as he pushed his hands deeper into my neck. I gasp out and try to peel his hands off. I'm not aborting the baby I promise! I'll be good! Oh god please don't kill me!

"Baby killer, you worthless whore!"

I gasp out suddenly when I feel a wad of cash hit my body, the burly man pulling up his pants and fastening his belt. My legs are back down on the bed and my hair is all over the place. I'm dripping in fucking sweat.

"I'll see you next week babe,' he winks as he pulls on his black shirt over his head. Fuck. Fuck! He walks out of the room and I'm instantly crying, my hands shaking as I pull the black comforter up my body. I hate this. I fucking hate this! Maybe I should have stayed at the hotel. If someone would have killed me I'd probably be better off. Except I'm now 18 weeks and this baby will be here in probably 22 weeks. It's fucking scary. I just hope I can make it in time. I don't want to be here when I'm giving birth.

After forcing myself up to shower and shave, I squeeze into my black pants and have to fasten a rubber band on the button to connect the pants. I really should go get a good pair of maternity ones. I button up the black shirt and roll up the sleeves, messing with my hair so it's wavy and a bit slicked back. I don't even bother to hide my dark circles today. No amount of concealer will hide them.

I rush into the diner with only 5 minutes to spare, clock in and relieve Amanda who worked the midnight shift. She looks just as frazzled as I feel. I put on my apron and pull out my notepad and pen, stuffing it in the pockets. I don't know how I'm going to survive today.

Maggie had to stay home sick so I'm by myself during a Friday morning shift, the place is fucking haywire. I'm drowning, literally drowning in customers. I even take a few breaks to go in the office and cry. My ankles hurt so bad and I just want to go to sleep. But I wipe my face every time and go back out, refilling coffees constantly and running food out by myself. I can even feel the baby kick now! But it's not like I can sit still and enjoy it.

Only two more hours thank god. The door chime goes off as I carry the heavy tray of food across the diner, limping as I try to walk fast. That man really did a number on me last night. Fuck. I set down the party of seven's dishes and limp to the new table to find the extremely hot detective combing his fingers through his black hair. He must of gotten off a shift too.

"Hey stranger," I smile as I hand him a menu. "Coffee?"

Andy smiles at me and nods. "Crazy day huh?'

"Had a call out," I smile as I walk back to the counter and grab a fresh pot. I pour some in his cup and a table next to him. "Do you need a few minutes or do you know what you want?"