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Hot Stuff

"Where is she?"

That seemed to be a reoccurring question that I always seem to be asking complete strangers for the past five years whenever Kendra got into one of her usual messes.

"She's over there," The person who called me with her phone said.

She led me through the crack house to where Kendra and the sad shit that I saw en route was the saddest shit I'd seen in a long time*; and that's saying something because I've literally seen men cry when they see me take my top off and* THAT was sad, but it was nothing compared to this.

So many young men and women were almost lifeless on the bare floors, high on hard drugs, drenched in booze, covered in their own vomit and just flat-out wasting their lives in this nut house. I mean, I understand wanting to have a good time, but this was next level insanity and more than anything, I wanted to get Kendra and get the hell out of this awful place.

"Right there!" The woman pointed after we turned the corner.

And sure enough, there was Kendra; wasted beyond recognition, wearing nothing but her bra and panties, and she was tonguing two guys at the same time who both had their hands all over her lady bits.

The dudes seemed less wasted than she was, and it would be easy to say that they were taking advantage of her because, let's face it, that was what was happening. But, she was mostly at fault because she chose to come here, she chose to take those drugs, and she put herself in this situation.

"Kendra!" I yelled and stormed over to her.

"Cherry, my girl, what brings you to my sanctuary?" Kendra asked and sure enough, she was as high as the most high.

"Quickly, get dressed. I'm taking you home and you two idiots, get your HIV-infested hands off her before I chop them off," I said to the guys and they backed away.

"Hey, I was having fun with those guys. Why did you chase them away?" Kendra asked drowsily, but I didn't have the time nor patience for her madness.

I forced her into her clothes and dragged her out of the crack house all the while yelling at her for being irresponsible and for lying to me.

"You promised that you were going to pay your debt and not take any more drugs on credit. That's what you told me. I can't believe you lied to me, Ken. I trusted you,"

I hated yelling like a parent because it reminded me of how my mom used to yell at me, but unlike what I was trying to do for Kendra, my mother wasn't ever trying to keep me safe or look out for me. No, my mother only ever yelled when it benefited her because she was a selfish bitch that couldn't stand the sight of me.

"Oh please!" Kendra pulled away from my grip, "You knew I was going to buy drugs with the money you gave me. You expected me to. I would even go as far as to say that you rely on me to be a huge mess so it can make you seem like less of a mess when compared to me,"

"You don't know what you're saying, Ken. You're wasted, so get in the car and let's go," I yelled at her and tried to pull her toward the car, but she snatched her hand away.

"No, I do know what I'm saying. I'm nothing but a pity project to you. That's the only reason you put up with me, because it makes you feel better about the fucked up decisions you've made in YOUR life when you compare it to mine.

"You literally sell your body for money, and you hate yourself for it, so you keep me around, bail me out of my problems and scold me about them because it gives you this false image of yourself as this responsible decent adult, but the truth is," Kendra got too close and I sure as hell didn't like what she was saying, "You're a broken woman, Cherry. So broken that even your own mother failed to acknowledge you as a daughter she could be proud of and only the validation of those pathetic simps makes your misery manageable because, just like me, you're trash and you belong to the streets."

I knew she was high but hearing her say those things really hurt me and I snapped. I raised my hand to her and slapped her on the cheek as hard as I could. I wasn't going to take such disrespect from someone that I had cared for and loved for so long despite all of her flaws and baggage.

"Don't you ever speak to me like that again, Ken. I don't care if you're high or if you're sober. Never speak to me like that ever again. I may be a mess, but at least I have control of my life, unlike you. If it wasn't for me, you'd most likely be dead right now, so show a little bit of gratitude, you ungrateful unemployed pathetic junkie,"

"I'm not unemployed. I have a fucking job," she claimed as tears rolled down her eyes and smeared her mascara all over her cheeks.

"Doing dishes in a poor Chinese restaurant isn't a fucking job, Ken,"

"At least what I do involves keeping my clothes and tits to myself,"

The more she spoke about my job, the more self-conscious I became about it. I hadn't cried in a while and I didn't want to cry now but it was kinda hard not to because Ken's words had made me so damn emotional.

"Get in this fucking car and let's go," I yelled and pointed at the open door.

"I don't want to go anywhere with you. I'd rather stay here," she said, and tried to walk away from me.

"No, you're not!"

I grabbed her hand and pushed her to the door. She staggered into the car and I slammed the door shut after she was in. I wiped the tears from my eyes before hopping in as well. Samuel drove the car and I suffered through one of the most uncomfortable car rides I'd ever been in. It didn't take long for Kendra to doze off due to her severe intake of those god-damned pills and as she slept, I stared at her, and it made me feel so many conflicting emotions.

I was angry at her for all the things she had said to me, and I was also sorry for all the things I had said to her. She was right, though. A part of me chose to put up with her for the reasons she had mentioned. I have never been ashamed of being a stripper, but sometimes, I did feel like trash because of how often I was sexualized by my clients and although I loved it, it wasn't always something I was proud of and having Kendra around kinda made it all a little bit better.

We got to our place and Samuel drove away after dropping us off. He wanted to help me carry Kendra inside, but I didn't let him; she was my friend, my burden, my responsibility, my curse and my gift. I put her in bed, cleaned her up with a wet rag, changed her clothes and woke her up long enough to get her to drink some water.

It wasn't too late, but I was exhausted and wanted to head to bed, but I changed my mind after remembering the binder with Malcolm's agreement papers. I felt even more inclined at that point to consider his offer and take it because it didn't require stripping.

I know, I know; I love to strip, and I'm not ashamed of it, but what Kendra said earlier was still bothering me and I felt that maybe doing something else for a change would make me feel better about who I was…and the money was good too, so that was another incentive.

I had thrown the binder on the couch when Kendra and I came in, so I went to get it and took it to my desk to read through it and see if I liked his "conditions" and "requirements". The agreement started off pretty nicely, but it all started to go downhill the longer I read.

He had made some very strange stipulations and requirements that I didn't quite like and just as he had asked, I marked them down and planned to renegotiate the next time we would meet. When that time would be, remained a mystery to me because I didn't have any means of getting in touch with him, which meant that I would have to wait for him to call.

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