"Who is he?"
"Daddy," she says as she lights another blunt.
"Do you mind if I take some pictures of you while Mia interviews you?" Salvador asks.
"No—no picture. He'll kill me. I was promised no pictures; this interview is over. Leave now," she is flustered and livid.
"Okay we won't take any pictures, you have our word Rachel." Salvador tried to console her, but I don't think she's comforted one bit. She seems to be in a fit of panic, looking around the apartment and then back at Salvador and me.
"This was a bad idea. If daddy finds you talking to me—I am meat. Please leave and don't ever return," she cries out, and for the first time, I notice her shaky hands. I reach out to her and hold on to her scrawny arms.
"You're safe with us, Rachel," something tells me that is not even her real name. I can't even imagine the life she has had to live and the pain she must have had to endure.
"I am only safe when I am dead."
That's a morbid thought.
"He'll kill me if he finds out I spoke to anyone. Maybe that's really what I want." My phone buzzes, and it's Liam again. I let it ring.
"Tell me more about daddy," I try to change the topic, as much as I can change it.
"Daddy calls me one of his babies—he has babies scattered everywhere. We are his ATM, if we don't have a minimum of 7 customers a night—he beats us up. He broke Sierra's shoulder because she only had three customers one night. He beat me up when I told him I was tired one night—you don't get breaks. You have to go all night. Even in -12 degrees, you have to stand on the streets. He takes everything we make in return of protection."
"Protection from who?" isn't he the threat? I don't get it. How can somebody be your protector and the danger itself?
"Police."
"Why do you need protection from the police?" Aren't police the protection.
"If they find us, they lock us up. One time this policeman forced me to have sex with him and then did not pay me—because he was the police and you can't say no or else they still do it. And if you don't perform well, they'll rape you and still lock you up." Her voice is monotone—there isn't any dramatic pause or a speck of sentiment. It's just dry, coarse, and lifeless — a lot like her.
"You have no distant relative or a friend?" I don't mean to sound cold, but how can somebody have nobody in their entire life.
"My friends are either locked up, dead or in the streets whoring. It's just me." That is just sad. My heart breaks for her—I can't imagine a life so empty.
So, she can't leave, clearly can't stay here and has no escape route. I blink hard at the reality of her life—what can I do to help her?
"Come stay with me." The words are out before I have had a moment to think them through. I don't even have a home of my own—I am staying at Liam's, but he'll be okay with it, right?
I mean he might bitch and moan, but he has money—his mom even runs a charity, maybe Martha can help me find her something.
"I can't do that."
"Why not?"
"I can't leave daddy."
"Yes, you can. This is a vicious cycle and you can break it," I have no idea what I am saying, but I can't let her stay here. I have to do everything in my power to help her.
"This is crazy—" Salvador says and I shut him up.
"Stay out of this Salvador, it's two women talking," I warn him. It doesn't concern him one bit.
"He's right; I can't leave."
"Why not?"
"Daddy is all I have left."
"That's exactly what he wants. He wants you to only have him so can pimp you around. You deserve a life with happiness and ice-cream and sunshine and love and puppies and—you deserve a life, Rachel. You just traded one jail for the other."
I know Liam would understand—he's got a heart. She can stay with us for a few days until we figure a more permanent solution.
"What if he finds me?"
"My boyfriend is a powerful man; you have my word that daddy won't be able to touch you. I know I am a stranger and you can't trust me but come to my house and see it for yourself. You can come back if you don't feel safe with me." I am ready to beg her to leave this life behind. I know I can convince Liam to help her out. Once he knows her story—he'll want to help her. Together maybe we can get her a job or help her get her GED. I don't know—I just—Liam will figure it out. I know in my heart he will.
She is thinking about it—I can feel her brain ticking—this is really happening.
"You get into stranger's cars every night without fearing the outcome—give me a chance, it might turn out better than you could have ever hoped," I give her the nudge she needs to make the final decision maybe if I help her my life won't feel so meaningless myself.
"I can leave whenever I want."
"You have my word."
We take an Uber back to my—I mean Liam's apartment. My messages are flooded with Liam freaking out about my whereabouts. I text him, "I love you. Coming home with a friend. Please be calm and hear me out."
He doesn't reply and I keep my phone in my pocket. Rachel and I talk about New York, the weather and of course, her life.
"Sometimes, I regret getting out of jail; it was so calm. I had food to eat and a roof to sleep under every night." I want to make tonight special for her. I am mentally picking out the night suit I will give her to wear tonight and maybe I can order some pizza. And Ice-cream. Definitely ice-cream.
Liam calls me and I pick up. "I know—I know—Please don't be mad. I love you and I am bringing a friend over for a slumber party—"
"What the fuck are you doing in the Bronx? Who the fuck is with you and why the fuck would you not take my call?"
Author's note
How would you react if you were Liam?
What do we feel about Rachel?
Is the story getting too dark?
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