Curt always counted my tips in front of me, like he wanted to watch the number go down.
Ten in the can, eight for him.
Curt: That's it? You barely smiled at the truckers tonight.
Curt: You don't smile at the truckers, you don't get tips. Simple fucking math.
He said it slow, so I'd know it was on purpose.
Two guys from the bar next door watched him do it, and one of them laughed into his beer.
My face went hot and I just stood there like a fucking idiot with my hands in my pocket.
That was the whole night, every night. He took, I swallowed it, and I went back to folding towels like a good little dog.
I was so tired of being somebody's pocket.
Then Kiki banged through the front door and the whole sad room got brighter.
Kiki: Romy! Get over here, you have to see this!
She held that folded paper like it was a winning lottery ticket.
Kiki: Redgate. The prison up the county road. They got a companion program.
Kiki: Women sign a contract. Six months. You live right on the grounds with an inmate.
Kiki: They feed you, they give you a room, and they pay you.
She said it fast, the way she said everything she wanted too much.
Romy: Paid to be some convict's girlfriend? That's not a job, that's a fucking joke.
Kiki: It's a job with a bed and three meals, which is more than Curt gives you.
She wasn't wrong, and I hated that she wasn't wrong.
My stomach did that drop it does when you know a thing is a bad idea and you want it anyway.
Six months behind razor wire sounded like a vacation from this place, and that scared me more than Curt did.
Kiki put her chin on my shoulder, and her ponytail smelled like cheap strawberry shampoo.
Kiki: We go together or we don't go. I'm not leaving you here with that bastard.
Romy: You'd really do six months in a prison for me?
Kiki: I'd do worse. I've done worse. You just never hear about it.
Curt: Kiki. You gonna stand there flapping or you gonna work?
His eyes went straight to the paper in her hand, and my heart dropped into my shoes.
Kiki smiled her big fake smile, the one that got her out of trouble her whole life.
Kiki: Coupon. Two for one on pizza. You want anything, Curt?
He grunted and went back to his paper, and I finally breathed.
When Curt wasn't looking, she slid the flyer into my pocket and squeezed my wrist right over the bruise.
Kiki: Think about it. For real. Tonight.
A room, a bed, a payday. It looked like a door out of this life.
I just couldn't shake the feeling that the door had a lock on the wrong side.