Read Scarred (Lost Series Book 2) Online
Authors: LeTeisha Newton
Scarred (Lost Series Book 2) (20 page)
Chapter 1
Celeste
“I am beautiful.”
It was a lie I told myself every time I looked in the mirror. It was a stupid thing to do, but I still wish it were true. No, not on the outside. I had the package. I always had the looks. But it wasn't the outside that mattered. What counted was where I was lacking. I was tainted inside. Filled with poison and broken promises. Tortured by ghosts of the past and my own self-loathing. Most of the time, I chose to ignore my fuck ups. Besides, people paid a pretty little penny for my type of venom. It was better to get paid for it than to wallow and drown in it.
I looked over my shoulder and sighed heavily at the naked man sleeping in the bed, a cheap floral bedspread covered his hips. The hotel room was just as cheap, but I hadn’t planned on staying very long. My conquest for the night thought I should be his 'forever girl.' I could see it in his eyes for the thirty minutes I rode him. I wished I could slap it off his face. Hit him with the same jarring finality I'd had when I learned I didn’t mean shit to anyone but myself.
I wasn't a 'forever' sort of girl. I wasn't even his for the night.
He’d be lucky if I was his for the next hour.
Scratch that, I’d already been here long enough. Instead, I turned quietly and grabbed my shoes. There was no way I was going to be here when he woke up. It would only be awkward for both of us. He was fun, a release to remind myself that I didn’t always do things for an exchange of bills. That I could go out under no pretenses and feel like a normal woman. That was it. His use had depleted and I wasn’t in the mood for the “morning after” talk.
My phone chirped just as I got outside. I wrapped my black scarf around my hair before picking it up.
“You okay?” Marlena—my only friend—said. No censure. No lecture.
“Yeah. I’m leaving now.” She, of course, already knew that. Marlena had always been my safety net. In fifteen years of friendship she’d never let me down. I could depend on her in a way that no one else would ever understand. She knew I didn’t stay with anyone longer than sixty minutes. She could set her watch by it. It was part of my gimmick, the allure that made my price tag so high. My clients didn’t realize it was a part of my real life, too.
“Slick called for you. She wants you in tonight. Seems there are some high rollers coming through. She wanted to know where you were,” Marlena said. I sighed into the phone, unlocking my car. Sliding into my seat, the cool leather sent a chill along my bare legs.
“Switching to Bluetooth,” I answered, taking a moment to do so after I started my car. It was nearly three in the morning. The world was quiet and Marlena’s temporary silence grated on my nerves for some reason.
“When did Slick call?”
“Just about thirty minutes ago. She wanted to know if you’d be available tonight, and I told her you wouldn’t be.”
I’d have to call Slick. She was my inside track to a messed up world. One time I told her she was like coke: fine, pure white, soft to the touch, and oh so fucking addictive. She’d smiled big and told me that I could stay hooked for as long as I wanted. She didn’t believe in rehab anyway. Sometimes I thought checking in somewhere wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
Hi, my name is Celeste, and I’m addicted to sex and dangerous situations
. Somehow I didn’t think they’d help me.
Not really.
I looked too clean, too pretty. Perfect. I was perfect. I had a secure job working as a secretary for a leading law firm; I owned my own home, drove a high-priced car, and I took trips to exotic locales for business. I was the all-American girl during the day. It was my nights that were dirty. Those hours between sundown and sunrise that I came alive, behind a mask of indifference and seduction. I was an actress, poised and accomplished in my craft.
And I hated that I loved it so much.
“Are you there?” Marlena asked, interrupting my thoughts.
“Yeah, I’m here. I’m going to call her now and head home.”
“Call me when you get there, okay?”
“I will. I love you forever.”
“And always,” she finished. Saying those words was something we’d done since childhood. They were full of safety and familiarity. Marlena knew I meant it, even when we didn’t see each other often. I merged onto the highway as I told my car to call Slick and waited patiently for her to pick up.
“That didn’t take long,” she said by way of greeting.
“We both know it never does. What have you got for me?” I asked.
“Hear me out before you say no, okay?” Slick asked.
I groaned. There were a few automatic no’s for me: pain play, morbid fantasy role playing, and masquerade balls. The first two I knew Slick wouldn’t dream of bringing to me. Masquerades freaked me out. Sometimes people really got weird when they put on a mask. Like somehow having half their faces covered gave them licenses to be complete and utter assholes.
“Slick, you know better,” I responded. I’d been working as one of Slick’s escorts for nearly five years. We had a dysfunctional big / little sister arrangement. I liked her a lot, but she irritated the flying shit out of me when she wanted to.
“Celeste it has all the rules you like, and the money is fabulous. It’s a one-hour gig for you. You’re to be an adornment for your client. He does not expect any more than that.”
“How pretty am I supposed to get?” I asked intrigued.
“Just the mask. That’s all you need. The request is for curly, bed-tousled hair and no make-up. One hour, at double your rate.”
I paused before answering. $5,000 for one hour wasn’t a bad gig at all. My cut was after Slick got hers. I couldn’t sneeze at five grand, no matter how I looked at it. Working with Slick had paid off my car, house, and made sure I was debt-free before I’d reached my thirties. Though the public didn’t know much about how I’d done it, the fact was I was living the dream and I liked it that way. I had my independence and a savings account large enough to keep me taken care of for a few years if I stopped working. Every job for Slick brought me closer to permanent retirement. That meant more to me than anything else, coming from where I did.
I’d been born ghetto poor, but at twenty-four I was determined to die a fucking rich, old cat lady.
“Where am I going?” I asked, deciding I’d take the job.
Slick gave me the particulars and I got off the phone with her. I balked a little at only wearing a mask, but thought it was better than being someone’s plate. I’d done that before and getting little food pieces out of my unmentionables had been a good time. The waxing was another not-so-fun point. I was all for going bare, but Brazilian waxes
hurt
. Slick was footing that bill and she’d have an appointment for me by nine. Which meant I had about four hours of rest before I needed to get up and to the gym for my early morning workout. Ugh.
Other Books by LeTeisha Newton
Contemporary Romance
One Hour Girl, Lost Series Book 1
GLITCH, Corporate Hitman Vol 1
SCRATCH, Corporate Hitman Vol 2
Paranormal Romance