Tainted Rose (6 page)

She had to be smarter. She had to be stronger. If she was ever going to survive in this place, if she was going to live in this cold, dark, heartless world, she would have to be tougher. She would have to steel her heart against the weakness, the kindness, the loneliness that had led her to do what she had just done for Bill.

She sat on her knees and watched as Bill did up his overalls. Then he reached into his pocket and took out his wallet. He threw a twenty dollar bill at her and then got up and left. She waited, sitting on the floor of the little booth, the incessant music playing from the crackly speakers overhead.

She tried to hold back the tears but she couldn’t.

*

W
HEN SHE WENT BACK OUT
to the bar, Bill had already left. She was relieved to see that. She prayed he hadn’t mentioned anything to Murdoch about what had happened in the private room. One look at Murdoch though, and she knew that he was mad about something.

“Bill gone?” she said.

“You whore,” he said from behind the bar.

“What?”

“I know you sucked him off, you little slut.”

“Murdoch!”

“Well, didn’t you?”

She looked at him. She knew he was jealous. How did he know what she’d done in the back room? Had Bill told him? Was there a spy hole into the room?

“How do you know what I did?” she said.

“What difference does it make?”

He was right. It didn’t really matter how he knew. What mattered was that he didn’t seem to know she’d asked Bill for help. If he’d overheard that he might have killed her. This jealousy she could deal with. If he ever found out she’d asked for help, that would be worse. That would be a lot worse.

She went over to the bar and sat on a stool.

“I sucked him off, so what?” she said. “I don’t know why I did it. I just did. I
felt
like it.”

Murdoch shook his head. He was jealous because she always resisted any of his own attempts to get amorous with her. He’d tried hundreds of times to get in her pants, sometimes he’d succeeded, sometimes he’d failed, but every single time, she’d resisted. He didn’t like that. Why was she resisting him but giving it out so freely to a deadbeat customer like Caribou Bill, someone who so obviously had nothing to offer her?

“I’m sorry,” she said.

She wasn’t sure why she was apologizing to Murdoch. She didn’t like it. She didn’t like what it implied. It made her feel like she owed him something, like he had some sort of claim over her. The only claim he had over her was the claim he forced upon her from time to time. She had a feeling tonight might be one of those nights.

She never should have been so stupid. She wished she hadn’t fooled around with Bill. And she wished even more she hadn’t asked him for help.

“You’re going to fuck me tonight,” Murdoch said.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I don’t have to fuck you, you know I don’t. If I tell Serge you’ve been giving me trouble he’ll kick your ass, Murdoch.”

She looked at Murdoch. He was leering at her with such a lecherous, ugly sneer that she wanted to throw her glass at him.

“You’re going to fuck me and you’re not going to tell Serge anything about it.”

She finished the vodka and coke that was in her glass from earlier. The ice had all melted and the drink was watered down.

“And you’re going to do a lot of other things I want too, you little slut.”

She knew he had her. If he told Serge what she’d done with Caribou Bill there was no telling how he’d react. He might not give a shit or he might go into a jealous fit of rage and beat the crap out of her. She couldn’t take the risk.

She nodded almost imperceptibly at Murdoch. It was enough for him.

“That’s my little slut,” he said.

Rose put on her robe and then leaned heavily on the bar. Caribou Bill’s truck was long gone and it didn’t seem like there would be any more customers for the night.

“You might as well give me another drink,” she said to Murdoch over the bar.

He was cleaning the grill and looked up at her.

“And make it strong,” she said.

*

R
OSE FINISHED HER DRINK AND
got up from the stool. She almost tripped as she hopped down. The vodka had gone to her head and was making her a little dizzy.

“Careful, there,” Murdoch said.

“Careful, shit,” she said. “I’m going home. No one’s coming in here tonight.”

Murdoch didn’t protest like he usually did. He knew he was going to be getting a little something from her later and maybe that made him feel more generous.

She went out to the changing room and pulled on her jeans and sweater and snow boots. She had a pack of Du Maurier cigarettes in her jeans and lit one. She sat on the bench. Fuck, she said to herself. She knew she was in a bad situation. She’d given Murdoch something he could hold over her and she had no doubt that that was exactly what he had a mind to do.

*

“S
EE YOU AT HOME,” SHE
said as she pushed through the back door and out into the darkened parking lot.

She hated how those words sounded in her ear. It was as if Murdoch was her husband. She was going home to wait for him and he knew it. She was
his
woman now, and all because she’d stupidly allowed herself to feel sympathy for that asshole, Caribou Bill.

She wondered if it might be easier just to let Murdoch rat her out to Serge. Maybe Serge wouldn’t even give a crap about what she’d done with Bill. She was a hooker for Christ’s sake. What difference did it make if she sucked someone off in the back room for a little extra tip? How many strip joints was Serge overseeing? Maybe eight? How many girls was that? They must be up to all sorts of shit. What would he care if she’d broken a rule with Caribou Bill?

She sighed. Maybe she would have tried that and let Murdoch rat her out if it wasn’t for the story Bill had told her in the booth. It sounded like Serge was going off the handle a little more than usual. If he was letting himself slip into jealous rages it might not be the best time to test him.

It would be safer to let Murdoch have his way with her, but just this once. She’d give him a little sugar, let him have what he wanted, and then they’d both have something on each other. If he ever brought up what she’d done with Bill, she’d bring up the fact that he’d held it over her to fuck her, and Serge would likely knock the shit out of him.

One night. She could manage that.

She got in the car and lit another cigarette. The house she shared with Murdoch was two miles up the highway along a rutted, potholed driveway lined with eerie white spruce trees. She was a little drunk to be driving but there was never any traffic on that road and she didn’t pass any other cars.

She pulled up outside the house and stumbled in. She kicked off her boots at the door and went in through the kitchen. The place was a mess. It was a complete pigsty, as if vagrants lived there. It was cold and damp and the kitchen table was covered with beer cans, dirty dishes, and various bits of trash. Rose went over to the fridge and took a beer from the filthy mess of rotting leftovers and half empty condiment bottles that filled the shelves.

She tried to turn on the light but then remembered that the bulb had blown a few days earlier and hadn’t been repaired.

She went down the hall to her bedroom and lay on her bed. There was a lamp by her bed and thankfully it still worked. She popped open the beer and took a long drink from it. Then she got under the covers, still dressed in all her clothes. It was so cold and damp in the room that she could see her breath. Sometimes when he got home Murdoch put on the furnace and that warmed the place up a little. A lot of nights he was too drunk to do it. She would have gladly put it on herself but she didn’t know how to operate it.

She sat on the bed under her blanket and stared at the door to her room. She sipped the beer. Every time she heard a sound she moved with a start. She thought it was Murdoch. She sat there and waited for him. Her grip on the beer can was so tight that she’d crushed it without even realizing it.

When she finally heard Murdoch’s bike pulling up outside the house about an hour later her cheeks were streaked with tears and a mess of mascara had run down from her eyes.

*

S
HE SHUT OFF THE LIGHT
and waited for him. She wasn’t sure what to expect. Murdoch had tried to have his way with her before, many times, but this was the first time that she would be allowing him to do what he wanted. This was the first time she wouldn’t be resisting.

It felt strange. Usually she would have her dresser up against the door by now. Tonight was different. She wasn’t doing anything. She was just waiting. The sooner he came in, the sooner it would be over. For the second time that night she would be giving some old, decrepit biker something that he had no right to.

She listened as he shut off the bike, stumbled in through the front door and helped himself to a beer from the fridge, just as she had an hour earlier.

“Rosey,” he called out.

It made her skin crawl. She wished she was anywhere else in the world.

She told herself to remember this moment. The next time she felt like being stupid, or naive, or weak, or trusting, the next time she felt even the tiniest bit like being a human being, she would remember this moment and think better of it.

*

W
HEN SHE HEARD THE BEDROOM
door open she was hidden under the covers of her bed, shivering. She’d already shut off the lamp. The room was pitch dark.

Murdoch was stumbling around in the dark, knocking things over.

“What the fuck?” he said. “You in here?”

She didn’t answer.

“Come on now, sweetie,” he said. “This aint going to take more than a minute.”

She controlled her breathing. She was having a hard time keeping her breath steady. She had so much fear and so much rage pent up inside her, mixed together, that it was hard even to think straight.

“I’m here,” she said, quietly from under the covers.

“That’s my girl,” Murdoch said.

She found him so repulsive. She knew it was her own stupid fault she was in this situation, she had no one to blame but herself, but all the anger she had right now was directed at Murdoch.

Murdoch turned the lamp back on. The light revealed the situation in all its hideousness. Murdoch was leering at her, his face distorted by lust. His eyes were hungry for her. She’d seen that look in his eyes before. It seemed he turned into some sort of a monster before having sex. She didn’t understand how men could be so desperate as to fuck women who obviously didn’t want them. It didn’t seem natural to her but then what was natural about the situation she was in?

Murdoch pulled down the blankets that were covering Rose and threw them to the floor.

“You’re still dressed,” he said, disappointed.

What the hell did he expect? This was practically rape as far as she was concerned.

“It’s freezing in here,” she said.

He looked at her, his hungry, greedy eyes seemingly feeding on her already.

“Now, now,” he said, “there’s no need to be testy. We had an agreement.”

“This is hardly an agreement, Murdoch,” she said.

Murdoch held up his hands, his palms, open, as if protesting his innocence to a cop who had a gun pointed at him. “Alright,” he said, “if you’d rather we just told Serge everything that happened and leave the matter up to him, I’m fine with that.”

Rose thought about it. She wondered if that might actually be the easier course to take. No one even knew she’d asked Bill for help. All they knew was that she’d sucked him off. But she couldn’t take the risk. If Serge spoke to Bill about it, Bill would say what had happened and then what? Serge had certainly killed dancers for trying to escape. She knew that much.

Not asking the customers for help was the biggest rule the club had for dancers. It was the most serious violation too. It was terrible for business. No one wanted to see a girl begging for help, at least not in the kinds of strip clubs that the DRMC ran. They weren’t places for sympathy and compassion. They were places where the women kept their goddamn mouths shut and took off their clothes. It was terrible for business to have your dancers asking for help. It reflected poorly on the club, made the DRMC look weak and like they couldn’t control their girls. It also attracted the attention of the law, something that the club definitely didn’t want. No, she couldn’t risk Serge finding out what she’d said to Bill.

She pulled off her sweater, then reached around and unclasped her bra, revealing her tits to Murdoch’s hungry gaze.

“That’s my girl,” he said, staring at her breasts, “but it aint your tits I’m interested in.”

“What?”

“Turn around and show me that tight little asshole of yours,” he said, a snarl like that of a mean dog spread across his face.

“What?” she said again. She knew she sounded stupid.

“Just turn around, you little bitch,” he said.

She knew she had no choice. She was committed to this now. There was no way around it, no way out of it. Whatever Murdoch wanted from her, he was going to get.

She pulled off her jeans and underpants and threw them to the ground. She was completely naked now. Murdoch was licking his lips, the lust on his face making him look absolutely hideous. He looked like an animal moving in for the kill.

Rose turned around and got on her hands and knees with her back to him. If he wanted to take her in the ass, then let him do it and let it be over.

“Are you going to use a condom?” she said.

Murdoch didn’t answer. She closed her eyes and heard the sound of him spit. Then she felt the saliva on her ass, sliding slowly down the crack of her asshole, over her anus.

“That’s not going to do it,” she said. “You’re going to need some lube.”

She wondered if Murdoch had ever fucked a girl in the ass before. She wondered if this was his first time doing it. She’d experienced it a few times before although never really by choice. When Serge was in town it often happened, either by him or by one of his lowlife friends. It wasn’t exactly that they raped her. It was more that she did exactly what they wanted without ever protesting because she knew what would happen to her if she gave any trouble. Everything she did was under duress but she was too afraid to actually resist. Thankfully, it wasn’t every week that Serge went after her. Often when he came into town he’d be so high on drugs that he wouldn’t be able to get it up. He’d make Rose strip for him, she’d dance on his lap, but he wouldn’t actually be able to fuck her.