Role Play Page 4

  “Typical Friday,” Kevins griped. “I’m putting you on the ramp. Those other guys don’t listen for shit.”

  I put my stuff in my locker and pulled out my earphones and mic. I figured as much. The guys on the night shift were a bunch of mooks. I could fling baggage with the best of them, but I’d rather handle the boarding ramp, guiding the planes in and out.

  I wasn’t the one who had started the rumor that I was a big airline executive. I had denied it in the beginning, but it must have made for a better story because it kept popping up in the sex clubs and fetish groups over the years. Maybe because I posted photos from the trips I took on my scene profile. Free travel was the reason why I took this job. So I could see the world. And when women saw my place and assumed I was rich, and then wanted to have sex with me because of it, that wasn’t my fault. Sometimes they wanted to have sex because they thought I was hot. Getting sun-baked on the tarmac, and pumping up my muscles lifting baggage helped with that. But most people assumed it came from a tanning bed and a trainer.

  I stepped outside to the roar of a jet engine. I knew if Sierra saw me now, she wouldn’t be interested in me. And that’s what made me so mad that I could mindfuck a beautiful stranger. I wasn’t any different now than I had been in the club, but I could tell from the appraising way she had looked me up and down when she first saw me, taken in by my expensive shoes and shirt, that she changed her opinion about me.

  Only that wasn’t really me.

  That wasn’t this guy carrying the light sticks down to marshal another plane of people into place. A nobody, that people didn’t even see on their way to somewhere else.

  It wasn’t me.

  Chapter 3

  Sierra

  I put my head in my hands as Dick was driving me home. My heart was beating too fast, and I had to focus to breathe in and out. My chest felt so tight, it might explode.

  Being completely overwhelmed—I hated it… but it was so invasive and intense that I couldn’t help stop feeling it. I hated myself for it. Victor intended to scare me, so why was I still thinking about him and the rush it gave me when he was pressing against me?

  I should hate him for doing that to me. I did hate him. But I also kept thinking about the way it felt when he pinned me against the brick wall with his whole body, and how turned on he obviously was as he whispered those terrible words to me. Then how gently he held me and told me he wouldn’t hurt me.

  I just wanted to turn off my mind and go home where it was safe.

  “How did Lola leave without me seeing her?” Dick demanded.

  “There must be a back door.” I rubbed my neck where Victor’s thumb had touched me. “You’re the cop. Don’t you know anything?”

  He glanced at me again. “What happened in there? You’re dead white.”

  “It’s a meat market, a terrible place,” I told him dully. “I think it’s dangerous.”

  “What was Lola doing?” he demanded, his voice rising.

  “Nothing. She was talking to a man and another couple. I saw them sitting at a table.”

  Somewhat mollified, he glanced over at me. “Then what’s wrong? What happened to you?”

  I couldn’t get into it with Dick. It was my own fault for being so stupid. I let Victor tie me up. I had taken the blind leap, for whatever reason, and I was lucky the guy wasn’t truly rotten to the core because much worse than a few mean words could have happened.

  “It’s just a little shocking, is all, to see my sister in a place like that.” I put my head back in my hands, hoping that would shut Dick up. I didn’t want to talk to him about it.

  I needed to talk to Lola. Desperately bad, I needed my sister.

  ...

  I lay on my couch feeling drained, like I had run for miles. Around eleven I got a text from Dick asking if Lola had come home. I ignored it.

  Eventually I went to bed to toss and turn, thinking about what Victor had done to me and wishing I could stop. I felt anxiety, shame and even worse, like a fool.

  So I was not in the best mood when Lola finally showed up after breakfast, looking radiantly happy.

  “Where have you been?” I demanded, even though it was such a cliché.

  “None of your business,” Lola retorted with a laugh.

  I glared after her as Lola went into our bedroom. It was jammed with the two single beds and our dressers, and was dark because the window looked out on an airshaft. I had always shared a room with Lola—at least we weren’t in the same bed anymore.

  Lola was the baby of our big family and by the time we both had arrived one right after the other, our mom was done with raising kids. When we were girls, we relied on our older half-brothers to take care of us while our mom worked as a cashier and our dad got up early to go to the bakery. Lola and I stuck together and scrapped together to get our fair share of peanut butter and cereal. We always relied on each other, even before the divorce.

  I waited impatiently for Lola to get out of the bathroom, the unpaid bills clutched in my hand. Lola was singing in the shower, like she didn’t have a care in the world.

  When Lola finally emerged, she stood in the doorway drying her long dark hair with a towel. I could have been looking in a mirror—people assumed we were twins all the time. Mutts, my oldest brother called us, but genetics had won out, taking the best of what our ordinary parents had to offer. Lola’s skin was creamy pale, like mine, contrasting with her vibrant dark eyes and hair. We both were curvy in the right places.

  “I found these two bills in the drawer,” I said flatly. “I gave you my share last week, and you said you’d pay them. Now they’re both past the due date.”

  “I paid those online,” Lola tossed off.

  “No, you didn’t. I checked.”

  Lola shrugged. “Well, I thought I paid them. What are you getting so mad about? It’s not like they make you pay extra if you’re late.”

  “No, but you get dinged on your credit score if you wait too long.”

  “That’s why you’re yelling at me? Because of your credit score?” Lola snatched the bills from my hand. “I’ll pay them now, if it makes you happy.”

  “Do you have enough money?”

  Lola let out an exasperated sound. “Why do you always ask me that?”

  “Because you don’t have Dick to borrow from now if you need it.”

  Lola’s eyes narrowed. “What’s he been telling you? He made me take that money. He said it was a gift. Or I wouldn’t have taken it.”

  “Why did you break up with him, Lola? I thought everything was going good.”

  “Lot you know!” Lola flounced over to pick up her lap top and flop down in the chair by the window. She looked at the bills again, checking the amount.

  “What went wrong with you two?” I asked again.

  Lola tapped into her computer, opening her account. “He’s boring. He never wants to go out. And sex with him was like… snooze time. I never could get him to do anything fun. He’s always so jealous and weird.”

  “Sex. Is that what you want?”

  “It’s not all I want. But I want something better than that.”

  I was really worried about her. “Is that why you went to the Chamber last night? To find better sex?”

  Lola sat up straight. “What do you know about the Chamber?”

  “I know plenty. It’s full of guys jacking off watching people beat each other. Why do you want to go to a place like that?”

  “How do you know I went there?” She gave me a look. “Dick told you. What an asshole!”

  “You went to that place with some guy you just met. What’s wrong with you, Lola?”

  Lola glared at me. “Wait, you’re on Dick’s side? I broke up with him!”

  I tried to sound reasonable. “He’s worried about you, Lola. Like I am. What kind of place is that for you to go to?”

  “You don’t understand. You don’t want to understand.”

  “You haven’t even tried to explain it to me.”

>   “You’ve already passed judgment against me! Look at the way you’re talking and you don’t know anything about it.”

  I had to tell her. “Yes, I do. I went there last night looking for you. I was worried about you.”

  Lola’s mouth fell open. “You spied on me?”

  “Oh my god, Lola, I’m your sister. It’s not spying when it’s your sister making sure you aren’t choked to death and stuck in a dumpster!”

  Lola stood up, looking down at me. “And that’s not judgment? You think I would put myself in that kind of danger? Seriously, how stupid do you think I am?”

  I couldn’t speak for a moment. My throat closed in, shutting off all words. As stupid as me, I thought miserably. Lola was madder than heck, but I needed my sister.

  “It happened to me,” I managed to say.

  That stopped Lola, as realization slowly filled her eyes. “What happened to you?”

  I clenched my hands together. “I let some guy tie up my wrists. But first I hit him with the ruler they gave me.”

  “You hit him?”

  “Yeah. Pretty hard. On his palms.”

  Lola was staring at me. “And then what?”

  “Then he tied my wrists. He said some things… I got scared because I realized he could really hurt me. But he didn’t. Then it was over and you were gone.” I tried to bring the subject back where it belonged. “That’s how I know this stuff isn’t just play acting. It can get serious. You shouldn’t go to a place like that.”

  “Excuse me, big sister, but even I know enough not to mess around with a strange man. What got into you?”

  “You went there with that old man you just met!” I hated to admit it, but I added, “And Victor is different. You must have seen him. Blond hair, taller than the rest of the guys, dressed really nice. People know him there—he’s got a fancy job with the airline.” I didn’t want to add that he smelled good and his eyes were to die for. “Another girl told me he was really popular, and that she was dying to get together with him. I thought it was safe.”

  “Damn… you had a freakier night than I did. We went back to Martin’s place and watched Hot Tub Time Machine.”

  “Is Martin that man you were with?”

  Lola nodded, sitting back on her heels. “Did you see our scene?”

  “What do you mean? You were talking to him. He had his hand on your shoulder.”

  My sister glanced away. “Nothing. But I think this proves that I know better than you what I’m doing.”

  “So you are doing this S&M stuff with Martin? You’re letting him hit you? Why, Lola? I saw him—he’s practically an old man.”

  “He’s thirty-four!”

  “And you’re twenty-one.”

  “Well, he doesn’t try to scare me like your random hottie did, I can tell you that.”

  I had no retort for that, because hopefully it was true. “I want to meet Martin. I want to make sure he’s not a psycho.”

  “As if you’re any judge!”

  “I made a mistake. But I never would have been there if you hadn’t gone.”

  “It’s your own fault for following me around. Fucking hell, Sierra! It’s time for you to let me live my own life.”

  With that, Lola packed up her stuff and huffed off to the bathroom. She blasted the radio and sang to it as she fixed her hair and makeup. She didn’t say good-bye when she left.

  Which left me feeling even worse. Lola was right. It was my own fault that I got into that mess. Why did I fling away all common sense? Because Victor looked deep into my eyes? Because my guts told me that I could trust him?

  Maybe because I was sick of working so hard with nothing to show for it. Because I was ready for more, and was willing to take a short cut to get it.

  But that was Lola, not me. It had never been me. Lola was used to taking whatever she wanted. As if she had the right. As if nobody else should care.

  Maybe I wanted to feel that for just a moment. To feel that a hot, sexy man wanted me so badly that he would stand there and take my blows. And then feel him lose control over me. Because he did lose control. I had seen it in his eyes, the way Victor had blazed into pure aggression and desire. And then at the end, how his fierceness ebbed as he came back to himself, looking at me with concern. He couldn’t have been sweeter as he held me as I cried, comforting me.

  I smacked my forehead. I am so messed up! Seriously fucked! Stop thinking about him!

  ...

  I tried to talk to Lola over the next week. My sister wasn’t very sympathetic about what had happened to me. At one point she yelled that it was my own damn fault. Lola said if I was going to be that stupid, I couldn’t blame her for it. Lola kept saying she knew what she was doing.

  I seriously doubted it.

  Dick was super-pissed that Lola wouldn’t talk to him after that. He kept texting and calling me, trying to find out what was going on with my sister. I didn’t want to admit that I didn’t know because Lola didn’t come home.

  But days later, because Lola wouldn’t talk to me, I was finally driven to text Dick back: Do you know where Lola is?

  A few moments passed, then Dick replied: Meet me so we can talk.

  He was going to pump me about Lola and what she had been doing. But I didn’t know anything. Lola came home a few times really late, after I was already in bed. And then she was still in bed when I got up to go to work.

  Lola would hate it if I talked to Dick about her. But what choice did I have? I knew firsthand the danger she was flirting with. I had to do something. I couldn’t sit by and watch my sister flush her life down the drain. Lola had nearly gotten into real trouble last year when she started dating a guy who did hard drugs. She called it weekend partying, but then she started staying out all night during the week, too.

  Dick had busted Lola with ecstasy in her pocket last summer in the park. If he had arrested her, Lola’s life would have been ruined. But Dick had taken pity on her, bringing her home in handcuffs, and releasing her to me as long as Lola promised to get into treatment. And she did, with Dick’s help. He went with her to meetings, setting her back on the right path. It had been a real relief for me to have help with Lola. Lola had relied on him, and even though her drama continued, there hadn’t been any real trouble over the past year.

  Until now.

  What if Lola started spiraling out of control again?

  Finally, I texted Dick back: Okay, after my class tonight.

  ...

  After a long day at work, I got on the bus from Midtown to the Long Island Expressway that took me deeper into the island to Queensborough College. It was strictly for people getting their associate degree, and everyone worked while they were doing it, so it wasn’t the college experience that I had always hoped for. But financial assistance was nonexistent, so I had to adjust my dream. The degree was a means to an end, not the end itself.

  I would be glad when I never had to take the long bus ride again. I wasn’t sure where I would finish my bachelor’s degree, but I would make sure it was closer to home than Horace Harding Parkway.

  By the time the class was over and I got back, I wished I had put Dick off until the next day. But he was parked up the street, texting me impatiently.

  I got into his car as he silenced the radio that was mounted on the floor. There was a view down the sidewalk to the front door of our four-story tenement building. The light in the front window on the third floor was coming from our apartment.

  “Lola’s home,” I said.

  “Yup.”

  My sister knew I would be at class. So she was deliberately avoiding me.

  “I wish I knew what was up with her,” I said.

  “You’re not even trying. You’re letting her self-destruct.”

  “How can I do anything when I never see her? She won’t answer my texts. She thinks I’m judging her.”

  Dick let out an anguished sound. “She won’t talk to me either. Did you find out anything about that asshole she’s seeing?”
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  I was acutely aware that if I told Dick that his name was Martin, Lola might get so mad she would do something drastic. “Nothing. What about you?”

  “I followed her to a couple different places—in Flushing and Red Hook. I haven’t seen that guy around, though.”

  Now I was really glad I hadn’t told him Martin’s name. “You should stop following her, Dick. It’s not right.”

  “I wouldn’t have to if you would do something about it! It’s just like last summer. You’re sitting there watching her slide into hell.”

  That stung. “I’m trying to help her. She keeps pushing me away.”

  He looked up at the window where a shadow passed. “She needs a jolt, like last time. She freaked when she thought I was taking her to jail. She knew she was facing serious shit. That’s the only reason she changed, because she didn’t want to lose everything.”

  “How can we do that now? She won’t be arrested for going to a club like that.” I considered it. “Will she?”

  “Nah, they keep it on the legal side of the line. I checked it out. No real sex happens in that place. No drugs. They keep it clean because they have to.”

  “It wasn’t clean,” I retorted, thinking of the sticky floors with a shudder.

  “We need something.” He turned to me, his voice softening. “You have to help me figure out something. I can’t stand seeing her ruin her life like this.”

  “Ruin her life?” I asked. “Isn’t that a little extreme?”

  He jerked his head. “She has a profile on a fetish website. Kind of like kinky Facebook. She has a list of events she clicked as maybe-going. What if those places are worse than the Chamber?”

  I stared at him for a moment, trying to wrap my mind around that. “This, I have to see.” I pulled out my phone.

  “It’s a protected site. You have to make a profile to get on.” He wrote down the name of the website. “Her screen name is Lollycat.”

  I took the piece of paper between two fingers.

  Dick leaned closer, and I could smell the beer on his breath. “You can get hold of her laptop while she’s sleeping. I’ve got a URL you go to and click download, and it will record what she’s doing online—“