Bianca
All the way home, in the rattling old bus, I kept trying to figure out what had happened there.
I was a mess, my panties were wet and I had actually wanted to get down on the ground and offer myself that rakishly handsome rogue, Liam O’Grady.
And to melt in the arms of Finn St Just, surrendering to him completely.
Yes, Sir. I had suddenly metamorphized into a seriously horny virgin sex addict!
As I got off at my stop, I decided to call one of my best friends to ask about boys and men and what to do…I was clueless.
*
But when I turned down the road leading to our home and the bakery, for we had begun to stay in the old house, I saw the sportscar that belonged to Dean Nelson, that my father had bought when he was married to my mother. It was tiny but cosy, in my eyes. Shabby but welcoming nonetheless.
I ran the rest of the way, my shoulder bag thumping against my hip, fearing the worst, as I breathlessly covered the last few meters.
*
When I rushed into the front room, I found Dean Nelson comfortably ensconced on the old sofa. And my temper shot up as I saw my tipsy stepmother Heather, perched on an armchair- the one with the stuffing coming out. She was giggling at what he was saying.
On the coffee table between them sat a bottle of fine malt whiskey. The devil had come bearing gifts and had already brought Heather to his side, I thought, in slow-burning anger.
*
I stormed in as Dean turned. He was a man in his forties, balding and with a portly stomach. He always dressed well but the ugly nature of his business had seeped into his character, leaking out into his persona.
Now he smiled at me benignly, but his sharp eyes were watching me in amusement, mocking me.
“Darling, it’s so nice to see you back from…?” began my stepmother.
Heather was oblivious of where I had been, and for once, I was thankful for that.
Tossing my bag down onto a table nearby which was overflowing with school bags and books- all belonging to the twins, I sat, crossing my arms to keep myself from hurling myself across the room and hitting the obnoxious man,
‘What brings you here, Mr Nelson?’
*
Heather hiccupped and then said, batting her lids to keep from falling into a stupor,
“Why Bianca Cruz, is that any way to talk to a guest? A man who is just doing his good Christian duty?”
She was trying hard to look angry but I whirled around and glared at her.
She subsided, cowering in her seat.
“He very kindly brought me a bottle of the finest whiskey I have ever tasted,” she mumbled like an irate child,
“And he has come up with a proposition to help us out of our dilemma! He heard we had money problems, child.”
She sat up here, smiling brilliantly, looking lovely as the evening sunlight fell on her blonde curls.
I sighed.
When she beamed in that way, I thought of the old Heather, full of joy and laughter, without a care in the world, flitting around like a butterfly.
I sighed and sank to a seat. Fixing Nelson with a cold stare, I said pleasantly,
“Oh? And what may that be?”
*
Nelson seemed amused by my sarcasm. Unfazed, he said,
“I’ll give you a job, a fine lady like you, working to the bone, now is that any way for a beauty like you to be spending her life?’
I felt a chill but I pasted a bright smile on my face as I said pleasantly enough,
“Oh? And the job is?”
His eyes narrowed.
“It will take you to many places. You will be escorting my clients and helping me build up my business.”
The coin dropped when he mentioned escort.
He was planning a future for me as a hooker.
Dean Nelson was not only a loan shark, he was also a pimp, as I had found out from old Alice.
I rose to my feet, my legs trembling in rage.
“Leave,” I hissed, pointing to the door,” Get OUT! NOW!!!”
*
My stepmother lurched to her feet, horror and anger warring in her wasted face.
“What are you…?’ she began but I rounded on her.
“Shut up, you drunken waste,” I screamed,” And YOU”, I jabbed a forefinger at Nelson who had risen to his feet, his face like thunder.
“You can be sure that I will repay your loan and clear the debts my father ran up. But I do not need to be an escort for that, Mr Nelson!”
He turned and began to walk out but at the door, he turned and said in a dangerously soft voice,
“You are making a big mistake, Bianca Cruz. And you will pay for it.”
*
As his sports car roared away, I lowered my face into my hands, the tears falling as I sat down heavily. Dimly I was aware that the twins were peeking from behind the kitchen door, alerted by the noise.
Heather walked up, tottering. She had had one too many this afternoon, obviously, I thought bitterly.
“How could you…?’ she began indignantly but I was done with this situation.
I stood up and glared at her. She was taller than me, but I was mad with rage.
“If YOU,” I snarled,” Had been paying attention to Dad when he was alive, you would have noticed he was sinking into debt And all those fecking shoes and bags you kept demanding, only made him sink deeper into the mire.”
My words had the desired effect. Heather recoiled as though I had slapped her. A part of me felt guilty for being so harsh but I had had enough.
I was being brutal but I was fed up of protecting everyone.
“Wha…what…do you mean?” she said, in a strangulated voice.
I sighed,
“Heather, you are a good woman but incredibly dumb. Dad’s bakery was in deep …trouble now, for a few years; did you know?”
Dumbly, she shook her head.
I pointed a finger at the door.
“Dad was in the red; he borrowed a heap of money from that slimy creep out there, and d’you know what?”
My voice broke as I shouted,
” Your good Christian Nelson, now wants me to sell my body and repay the loan. He wants me to become an escort, Heather, a hooker!!!”
And then, I screamed,
“No way, I won’t do it, NO!!!”