Jillian Rose

Chapter 11

I stared at Chad. Why was everyone so quick to pick me out as a hooker? I lowered my gaze as his burned through me. He stood there. His muscles tense. I could feel my body tense as he sat down next to me. I continued to stare at the floor. "Call Girls and hookers aren't really the same thing," I whispered.

"Yes they are Jillian," His voice was tight. I could tell without looking at him that his jaw was tense.

"Sometimes they just want to have dinner. They just want company or a companion...or arm candy." I was trying to convince myself of that more than Chad. I wanted out at 18. I was 18 now, but I was in debt for the next year. I had volunteer to be a high class hooker.

"Is that what he told you?"

I continued to stare at the floor.

"How did you get yourself into this mess? I know I was in prison, but God damn it Jill!"

"It's not like I do it because I like it!"

"No, it's just easy."

Now I was on my feet. I was angry. I don't know what made me angrier. Chad thinking I liked hooking or that he thought I did it because it was easy. I didn't know how to explain to him that I would gladly do anything else. I couldn't tell him that it was the only way to get him out of prison. I knew Chad. He would never be able to get passed that.

I decided to let Chad think what he wanted about me. I would rather him hate me than to hate himself. "I'm going to go to bed," I said softly as I headed for my bedroom, "Are you staying here?"

"...I don't have anywhere else to go. Blake suggested..."

"Couch is right there."

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I wanted to stay in the apartment with Chad, but he had a valid point about being stuck on a cell block for the last year. I had tried to ask him questions about what he had been doing in prison, but he always shut down. He didn't like talking about it.

The more time I spent with Chad the more I realized how he had changed. He never once brought up hooking again, not even when I had gotten an event request from Scott Jacobs again. I agreed to do it. I had to meet my 3 events per month quota, and I actually had fun on our last event. It was nice talking to someone my own age who didn't come with a lot of baggage. He was nice, and he didn't treat me like a hooker. He didn't even know I was a hooker.

When I returned from my evening with Scott Jacobs, round 2, I froze when I saw Boss John sitting on the couch in his usual seat next to the lamp. Scott Jacobs had asked for my number, so we didn't have to continue to coordinate through our respected fathers. I made up some lame excuse about my father not allowing me to give my number out, but that I'd like to see him again. He even tried to make plans before we separated for the evening. He didn't even try to fuck me. I had decided to tell him the truth if he told his father he wanted to see me again I was going to tell him his father was paying me. He was a nice guy. He needed to know the truth.

"I want you to tell me a story this time," I said to Boss John depositing my keys and phone on the counter.

"Oh?"

"How did you get Chad out?"

"Oh, that's temporary," Boss John said smiling.

"What?"

"I told the judge that Chad did not have a lawyer, that he was pressured into making a confession, that he didn't even have a phone call or his rights read to him. I reminded him that Chad Harris had the right to a fair trial. I reminded him that the Supreme Court does not like it when U.S. Citizens' rights are violated. Judge Jacobs agreed with me."