I Play for Keeps

Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

“What do you want Rae?!” The boss snapped the moment I entered his business like office. He was probably hung over or something. I didn’t mind at all. In fact, it would make things go by much smoother.

“I want to leave. I’m here to—,”

“WHAT!?!?!?!!?” He shouted, bolting up from his chair. He shakily took a few steps until his face was inches from mine. His hot breath sent shivers down my body. His eyes met mine with a penetrating glare. Every hair on the back of my neck stood up straight. I froze in terror, waiting to see what he would do next. I felt him grab a handful of my hair. Actually, it was more of a yank. With all my inner strength, I held back cries of pain, bit back tears, and held in all the words that were threatening to escape. “What did you—,” He suddenly stopped in mid-sentence. Then, I realized why he fell silent.

My scar.

“What the hell is that?!” I didn’t respond. He pulled—er yanked—my hair even harder than a moment ago.

“My scar!” I responded while gasping for air.

“I realize that dumbshit! How did you get that disgusting thing?!” Tears threatened to spill. “Tell me Damnit!” He yanked my hair, thrashing my body forward.

“There was an accident! I was cut with glass!” I whimpered.

“When?!”

“A week or so ago!”

“And you didn’t tell me because?!”

“I knew you’d be angry.” You see, the boss has a policy that he follows like a religion. Every girl that works here has to be perfect. And I mean perfect. We can’t be overweight, we can’t be underweight. We can’t have any scabs, cuts, bruises. And the boss’ pet peeve?

Scars.

If you are caught being anything less than a Barbie doll, you get your ass fired. It’s a tough life. We can’t do anything because the chains of the strip club are tightly wrapped around us, killing our insides, outsides, and everything else in its path.

“Get out.” He said coldly.

“What?!” I asked, baffled. I was supposed to quit! He wasn’t supposed to fire me!!

“You heard me. Get. Out. NOW!!!!!” the boss said, raising his fist.

I knew he would hit me.

I knew it from the moment he yanked my hair.

And I knew the violence wouldn’t cease until I was either badly bruised, knocked out, bleeding, or possibly dead. His fist made impact to my right eye first. I staggered back against the wall, holding my hand over my eye. I knew I’d have a bruise there for a few days. He had me cornered, so escape was nearly impossible. His fist then came back again, this time, hitting me in the gut. I gasped for air, surprised that he hit me there. Next, his fist whirled around and hit my ribs repeatedly. I cried and screamed, but his hits only came harder and faster. He screamed ugly words at me as a fist or leg would make impact with my body. His fist had hit my ribs so many times that I collapsed onto the floor, landing in the fetal position. I had nothing else to turn to. He was going to kill me. His legs began to kick my head and neck. A shot of pain hit the back of my neck, and I felt like I was gonna pass out any moment soon.

I have to see mom and Michael. I have to see mom and Michael.

That thought alone gave me the strength to stand up. I stood as he tried to knock me back down again, as his fists, feet, you name it, were hurled at my body. But I stood, bloodied, bruised, and hurting.

“Get on the ground bitch!” He yelled in frustration.

And I kicked him where it hurt.

I was able to hobble out of the strip club and into daylight. I needed to go home and clean myself up. I limped all the way through the town, mostly taking short cuts and back roads, to avoid catching people’s worried glances.

They still looked.

I was about two blocks from being home when a flyer blew up and smacked me in the face. Grumbling to myself, I was about to throw away the sheet until I saw what it read.

LES MIS AUDITONS HELD AT NEW YORK CENTER FOR THE ARTS IN MANHATTAN! GET PAID $500!!! AUDITONS ON SEPTEMBER 15TH!!!!!!

Well damn, that was in two days.

I kept the sheet and stumbled home.