Snow and the Wishing Well (Fallen Tales series)

Chapter 7

Chapter 7
Sarah
All I could think about was that guy. My dreams were filled of him. His messy floppy brown hair, his long legs that were covered by jeans, his blue collared long-sleeve shirt. It made me moan just thinking about it.
When I saw Michael walk out of his office to go open the doors, I crawled out of my sleeping bag, dodged the other beds and the sleeping bodies that lied in them to get to the door. I waited and watched him open them before I asked, "So who was that guy that came here yesterday?"
I held my head low to show vulnerability as I circled the stone brick with my finger, biting my lip. Michael was a divorced, drunk that paid well. If I could get a job out of this, I could eat well this week.
"He is the heir to an estate near Carlisle," he answered while his eyes ran up and down my body.
My heart skipped a beat. That was only an hour or two away from Seven Hills
"So why was he here?" I asked quietly.
"He wanted to know how this place was run, I don't know why."
I stepped forward and tugged on his collar.
"How is this place run?" I asked with heavy eye lids. This always did the trick. I could basically see him through his pants.
"Well how about I tell you over a drink in a hotel room."
I wanted to be sick.
"How much do you pay?" I asked, now serious.
His eyes flicked over me again. I buried the feelings of exposure and bare so I could get through this conversation.
"I say hundred per hour."
"Make it one-fifty and you have a deal."
"Done. I'll pick you up at the car park behind Macey's, at seven."
"See you there," I headed towards the door with the little dignity I had left before tomorrow.

It had been weeks since I had a good shower. I thought it would be a good opportunity to test out my new hotel room.
I walked into the lobby with my head held high, as if I hadn't spent the last year sleeping with guys for money. The elevator was empty, giving me time to think about what I was doing. I was basically going to break into someone's hotel room. But the thought of a warm shower won out.
The bed hadn't been made, and I could see a blue ruby bag. At that point, I should have left and never looked back. But then I spotted that bathroom door. I groaned giving in. I stripped and ran for that door.
The warm steam hugged me, as the hot water bounced off my body. God this felt so good. I massage my skull making me want to moan. I longed for my free-standing bath back at Willow Tree Abbey. It was big and the water stayed warm for hours. I had always had the fantasy of my future husband and I creating our first child in that bath. Oh it made my mouth water just thinking about it.
I missed these luxuries. Warm water, comfortable mattress, clothes that hadn't been stolen from St Vincent de Paul clothes bins. But hey, now I have a free hotel shower. I'm living the dream.


Justin
I was so tried. I hadn't felt this tied since high school. I through my bag on the bed, running my hands through my hair. I just wanted to go home.
I turned just as the bathroom door open. It was like a blur.
Screams from both her and me, filled my ears, as we jumped four feet high in the air.
When we had time to catch our both, the blur went as questions fill my brain.
"What the hell!" she yelled.
"Me, what about you? Did you break into my hotel room?" I didn't realize I was yelling because all I could hear was the racing beat of my heart. A girl, wearing nothing but a towel, just came out of my bathroom.
"I didn't break in, I have a key," she stated.
"You have a key, yeah right – what?" I frowned.
I turned away as she bent forward. It was only then that I realized the pile of women's clothing. She took a shiver key in her fingers and clearly showed it to me.
"Well clearly, there's been some kind of mistake but this is my hotel room. You had to know that someone had this room," I said pointing to the bed and the bag. All she did was shrug and that's when I realized. She was that girl.
"You were in the homeless shelter," her eyes grew wide, "You, you were that girl –."
"Your right, I'm sorry my mistake," she said trying to gather her clothing, "I'll just get dressed and get out of your –,"
"No it's fine, its –," I stopped. Our eyes locked and I couldn't tear myself away. Their brown colour made my heart race more than just seeing her body in a towel.
I shook the thought away.
"I'll wait outside."
That's when I saw something in her eyes. Gratitude. Like no one had done anything for her in agers. Then I realized. She was homeless.

Sarah
He was even more charming up close. I could now see that he had brown eyes and freckles on his nose from staying in the sun. Was he an outdoors person? God that would be such a – Michael's voice was loud in my head, He is the heir to an estate.
Reality was a bitch. Two years ago, I would had have a chance with this guy. Now not one.
The guy waited for me in the hall, those sweet puppy dog's eyes looking at me. I tucked a lock of wet hair behind my ear, with my head down. It felt like his eyes were razor blades, cutting into me. When he realized his staring was making me uncomfortable he bowed his head.
"Do you need me to drop you anywhere?" he asked.
I scoffed feeling it as an insult.
"I'm not some charity case," I snapped.
"Well, aren't all homeless people charity cases?"
I raised my eye-brow. His dreamy looks were ruined. The melting effect blown away.
"Well aren't you charming?"
"No, I just meant –."
He had lit a fire that burn within me.
"You know what, have a nice life, Charming," I snapped.
"No wait, I'm sorry –."
I was out of there before he could stop me.



Chapter 8
Sarah
I had never felt so pathetic in my life. Never had I felt so small.
I wasn't unpopular with boys during high school. I was a stand out with my jet-black hair and pale skin. But I was shy and scared them away.
I looked back at myself in the mirror of a public toilet at the park. I took out the lip gloss that I had stolen from a chemist two days ago, from my trench coat that I had lied on the sink counter. Spreading it across my lips, I took out my mascara. Chewing my gum, I thought about what I was doing. I was going to go sleep with another man for money, so I could get closer to my goal.
When did my life get so messed up? I only had these thoughts once a week.
One day I was the heir of my dream home, had my life full of studying birds and running the estate. The next I was sleeping with men for money and living on the streets.
I shook the thought away afraid or I would lose my nerve.  I had to do this. I had no choice. Not when it was my only way of earning money.

"We should make this a regaler thing," Michael suggested as I pulled my jeans on. I didn't want to look behind me and see the satisfied look on Michael's face. I had hoped that he would be worn out and be asleep when I got dressed. But the other option was to stay till he did, and I really didn't want to stay another minute.
"Why would we need to?" I asked pulling my sweater on.
"Well, I don't mind your company and you clearly need the money."
I bit my tongue. Twice today I had been taken as a basket case. I had been seen as some little girl needing to be saved.
"Will you be able to keep paying? And I have rules," I asked as my mouth started to taste of copper and my hands started to shake with anger. I was selling out for money. I was selling my body to this man.
"Right," he laughed bitterly, "No condom, no deal."
I nodded feeling proud of my rule.
"But I got a lot of money out of my divorce," he stated smugly, "but it would have to be an exclusive relationship."
I frowned, finally seeing the man in the bed. He barely had the sheet up to his belly button.
"What, so I'm not allowed to have sex with anyone, but you?"
He simply just shrugged, "I can add another fifty on to your payment."
I froze. Two-hundred dollars per hour.
"That's a good deal. How much do other men pay you? It's easy money, you have admit that."
It was easy money. Sometimes I went a week with no 'clients' meaning no money. This could be a sure thing. I could start a week knowing that I would be paid at least once a week.
I looked at Michael's smug smirk. I was putty in his fingers.
"Fine," I said through my teeth picking up my trench coat, "how will I know when you...want me," I choked.
"I'll let you know," he said shifting lower under the covers. Closing his eyes, I knew he was done with me.
That's when I felt it. I was nothing but a toy. Brought out when he wanted to play with me then thrown back when he was done.