THERE I WAS, AT THE POLICE STATION.
AGAIN.
I knew the protocol off by heart. They sat me down in a small, box-like room with plain white walls and scratched linoleum flooring. My gaze was fixated on the scratch marks. It was almost as though a person went crazy in here and tried to claw their way out, like some kind of savage animal. At least, that's what I had imagined. As I glanced around the small room, the walls seemed to close in on me, and the heated air from the vent grew thin. I tugged at the neck of my pleather jacket as I waited. I wasn't overly fond of being caged or restricted, and the idea of trying to escape became more ideal by the second.
"Helena?"
The constable stood behind me, towering over me like a stalk, which caused his shadow to cast over the full length of the cubical-sized room. This made him appear much taller than he was. "May I call you Helena?"
"It's pronounced Hell-lay-nah," I growled.
This wasn't an easy thing to achieve, considering how small I felt compared to his large build. In fact, it took all my willpower not to break down and cry. Beneath my careless façade, my hands were trembling, but I knew that I needed to remain strong because there was no way I could shed a tear—especially not in front of these suits.
"Helena," said Constable Collins. "This is your third offence this year. Not to mention you already have a very colourful record."
I rolled my eyes in response. I had a million witty comebacks lined up, but before I had a chance to respond, a good-looking cop entered the room. His blue uniform was pressed tightly to his muscular build, and I felt my lips part as I undressed him with my eyes. He looked more cut out to be an underwear model rather than an officer of the law. Up until now, it had been Constable Collins, Officer Garcia, and me. Now, with this new edition, the room grew even smaller and ten times hotter. The man introduced himself as Officer Reed Faulkner.
He had sandy blonde hair that almost appeared dirty in the fluorescent lighting and deep blue eyes that held a sea of opportunities. Something in his demeanour told me that under that blue uniform was a beast dying to be unleashed from its cage.
Constable Collins cleared his throat. "How old are you, Helena?"
"Seventeen," I replied honestly. "But I'm eighteen in like...a week."
"Since you're underage, are you aware that your clients could be charged with statutory rape?" he asked. There was disapproval in his tone.
"Yes, I am." I smiled. "But they aren't."
Constable Collins shook his head, which caused his black, curly locks to sway around his stern facial expression. I hated to admit it, even to myself, but he was attractive for an old guy. At least he was better looking than most of my customers.
Prostitution was illegal, but the laws varied from state to state, and it often resulted in a hefty fine. It was as though Constable Collins read my thoughts as he sifted through my records and found a bunch of unpaid fines that equalled to over two thousand dollars. Also, just to be an asshole, he added a fine for jaywalking because I had crossed the road illegally when he came over to question me.
I felt my eyes widen at the sight of all those zeros. That's more money than I would make in a week, I thought bitterly. Collins knew that he couldn't hold me because he hadn't caught me in the act, but still, he stated that this was my last warning and made it crystal clear that once I was of legal age, they wouldn't go so easy on me. I wasn't sure what that meant, exactly, but I figured it would involve an overnight stay in the slammer, at the very least.
Officer Garcia and Officer Faulkner walked out of the room to grab some paperwork, which left me alone with Constable Collins. He sat at the table in the chair opposite mine. Much like the overly sterile room, the chair was small and white. He placed his coffee down on the table and eyed me with a hard expression. I think it was meant to intimidate me. It didn't.
"Helena, this is only a fraction of what you will receive if you continue down this path. You need to stop this, or you'll never amount to anything. Do you want to spend the rest of your life like this?"
I ignored his judgemental gaze and wondered if there was any way that I could make this fine disappear. Collins didn't seem like the corrupt kind of cop, but over time I had learned that even the most prudent of gentleman could be swung over by a pretty lady.
With a crooked smile, I leaned forward and placed my elbows firmly on the table. My chair squeaked a little as I shuffled forward and strategically pushed out my chest. I was wearing my work clothes, which consisted of a short, black skirt, fishnet stockings, and a black pleather jacket, with—what might as well be—a red bra underneath.
I allowed my jacket to fall open slightly, and the constable stared a little before he glanced away.
I put on the sweetest, most seductive smile I could manage and fluttered my lashes at him. "Are you sure there's absolutely no way these charges can vanish right before my eyes?"
"Are you seriously bribing me? And with that? I'm twice your age!" He scowled.
"Hey, big boy, I didn't say anything. Don't jump to conclusions. I was only asking if there's anything I could do to drop these charges." I bit on my lip seductively.
Constable Collins looked like someone had sucked the wind right out of him. He stared at me incredulously before he raised his hand from underneath the white table. For a moment, I thought he was about to flip me off until I noticed the gold band around his marital finger.
"I'm a married man," he said. But despite his words, I didn't miss his gaze drop lower, leaving my eyes to stare down my blouse.
"Oh, I'm sure you are." I smiled mischievously.
A/N:
Where are you reading from? Let me know in the comments! ◡̈