The Arrangement 11

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Maybe I’m a paranoid psycho for even thinking this way, but it feels like I’m standing in the middle of a chessboard and all the other players are moving into position. My gut instinct is that it has nothing to do with being a call girl, but that doesn’t make any sense. All these people are in my life because I’m a hooker. There’s no real connection between these people. Well, that’s not entirely true. There is one connection between all of them—me.
My throat tightens. Am I being played? If so, why? I mean, I’m a nobody. If my name showed up in the paper, accused of some heinous crime, no one would care. And, my sexting files? Being outed as a hooker would end my career, but it would also get Black’s ass thrown into prison. It would ruin both of us. So, why would she do that? That can’t be it. Black is trying to keep a hold on me, and maybe it’s about the money and nothing more.
I try to shove the puzzle pieces together over and over again, but they don’t fit. I’m the only link between all these people and I’m also the only person getting dicked around. No one messes with Black or Gabe or Thug #2. Damn it! What the hell is that guy’s name? I need to remember.
When I get back to the dorm, I park at the back of the lot and run to the building and up the staircase. By the time I’m on my floor, I’m sweating and shaking. Heart pounding, I race to Mel’s room and knock. She’s always here a few hours before a client, getting ready, but she doesn’t answer.
Instead Asia pops her head out. “What’s up, Avery?” She looks me over and arches an eyebrow. “Were you making-out with seaweed again?”
Again? WTF? Ignoring her jab, I ask, “Where’s Mel?”
Asia throws out her hip and rests her head against the edge of the door. “Working. Her boss called her in early. She said that she’d meet you there.”
The skin on the back of my neck prickles instantly and spreads, covering my arms and snaking around my neck like a noose. I stand shivering and speechless.
Asia looks back into the darkened room. It’s pitch black and a voice I don’t recognize calls her name. She says, “One second,” over her shoulder and then steps out into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind her. “What’s the matter? You look like you’re going to hurl. Is Mel all right?”
I nod a few times and force a smile. It feels like a trap. There are neon signs lighting up and exploding in my head, but I still can’t see the connection. Hiding my apprehension, I manage a normal tone and make something up. “Yeah, everything’s great. I just thought we were riding to work together, that’s all. No biggie.”
Asia knows I’m lying but doesn’t say anything. She has the look on her face that my mother used to have when I told a bald-faced lie. Asia tucks her hair behind her ear. “Call me if you need anything, or if Mel does. I’m around tonight.” She winks at me and tips her head toward the door, indicating that they’re not knitting in there.
“Will do!” My voice is too chipper. I’m a horrible liar.
CHAPTER 4
I walk down the hallway to my room and slide the key into the lock. I’d rather smack my skull against the door, but that won’t fix anything. The idea that someone is playing me makes me irate. I didn’t think I was that stupid. Kicking the door open, I go inside and toss my keys on the table as the door swings shut behind me. It’s dark, except for Amber’s pink lava lamp glowing dimly next to her bed. Amber must be out at dinner or something.
A sound catches my ear, something like a foot sliding across the carpet. My skin prickles like I’m not alone. The sound was as light as a cat’s paw, barely there, but I heard it. Turning quickly, I grope the wall, looking for the light switch. My thumb catches the edge, so I shove it upward. Light pours from the ceiling as my eyes dart through the shadows scanning for a sign of what made the sound. My muscles are flexed, like I’m ready to run or beat the shit out of someone. God, if Amber is hiding in her closet, I’m going to lose it.
My gaze flicks to a pair of scissors on the counter. I pluck them from their place and hold them like a dagger, stalking slowly toward the source of the noise. It came from Amber’s side of the room. I feel stupid, because I’m certain that no one is there. It was probably a card falling to the floor or something dumb, because I don’t hear anything else. It’s quiet, save for the sound of my breathing.
Stepping slowly toward her closet, I reach for the knob, and jerk it open. Jumping back, I hold tighter to the shears and raise them up over my head, expecting to need to stab something, but nothing is there. Just clothes. There are no nefarious feet hidden behind Amber’s dresses and no glowing red eyes.
I stumble back and let out a rush of air as a shiver works its way up my arm. I sit down hard on Amber’s bed and try to calm down. My heart is racing like crazy and I can barely breathe. What the hell was I going to do with a pair of scissors anyway? I don’t think I’d have the guts to stab someone in the face if it came down to it.
Those are situations I’d rather not think about, because part of me thinks I’m so far gone that I’d do whatever I had to do. Pretending I’m still human, that I could use my deductive reasoning to outsmart someone, rather than stab them to death, sounds better. As if I’d be mentally superior to anyone. I’m shaking, trying to shoo away the worries that swarm around me.
What if…? What if…? They whisper the words at me over and over again.
What if nothing! No one is here. I don’t have to think about what I can do or what I would do. No one is stalking me and my imagination is in hyperdrive. I just need to slow down.
I go for my phone and for the first time ever, I think about texting Sean. I want to tell him that I’m freaked and hear his voice, but I know I shouldn’t. If Black saw it, she’d have proof that we were together. But if she already knows, maybe I have nothing to lose? I’m close to trembling and turning into a snotty mess. But then I see Gabe’s face and hear his voice in my mind, and I can’t give Black more ammo to shoot me with. I can’t text Sean unless someone is actually killing me.
It takes me a moment to get my hysterical self under control and punch in a different number. Mel picks up on the third ring. “Can’t talk now, Avery.” Her voice is clipped, but it doesn’t sound like she’s shoved under someone’s floorboards or getting her neck slit. What the hell is wrong with me? Mel can handle herself. I’m the question mark, not her.
I spit it out, “I’m quitting. I can’t take this anymore, Mel. I’m not coming.”
“You better. I’ll come over there and haul your ass from that dorm room. Some jackass booked a threesome and guess whose names got pulled. I’m relieved it’s you and not Trish this time—”
Crap, she doesn’t know that Sean’s the guy who hired us. I don’t have time to explain that right now. “Mel, shut up and listen. Something weird is going on. I’m majorly creeped out. I swear to God that it feels like someone’s been in my room.”
She shushes someone and there’s a moment filled with the sound of her hand over the phone. “Look around while I’m on the phone. Hurry up.”
“I already did. No one’s here. Nothing’s out of place, but it feels wrong.” I bite the tip of my finger and glance at the door again to make sure it’s still locked.
“You’re just worked up. Don’t worry about anything. Go change in my room if you want.” I know she’s just saying it to be nice, but we’re both thinking the same thing. Someone was in here.
Glancing around again, I try to pinpoint what’s been touched, but nothing is obvious. After switching my phone to the other ear, I tell her, “Asia is doing someone in your room.”
Mel laughs. “Good for her. It took them long enough. Damn.” Her hand covers the phone again before she adds, “I gotta go, chica. I’ll see you at Black’s in a bit.” The line goes dead.
I toss my phone onto my bed and walk into the bathroom. My heart has resumed a normal pace and I’m starting to feel stupid for being so freaked out. The first time I stayed home alone I was 9 years old and I couldn’t calm down the entire time. Every noise was a threat. I finally grabbed our fat tabby cat and bunkered down at the top of the staircase with my little heart beating uber fast. I totally thought I was going to die. The cat on the other hand thought I was insane because I wouldn’t let him leave my side, but he didn’t know about my cat-in-the-face attack plan. It would have worked, too. A startled, orange, thirty-pound cat smacking into some dude’s head would have thrown him off balance long enough for me to jump out the bedroom window. Maybe I have too much imagination, but when I get freaked out, I can get a little bit weird. Like now.
Leaning into the shower stall, I turn on the water. After letting it flow over my hand for a few seconds, I adjust the temperature. Pulling off my shoes, I toss them on the floor and pad over to the closet to get my bathrobe, my little basket filled with soaps and hair care products, and the best razor in the world. Amber’s not here. This is nice. There’s no sign of Naked Guy and I can take my time. Sean and Gabe are looking out for me. There’s nothing to worry about, although I may need to consider the purchase of a new attack cat. Amber wouldn’t notice.
God, my life is a mess. Graduation can’t come fast enough. I’ll get my degree and finally get things rolling. I can picture myself there, in graduate school, and how my life will look after I make it through my degree. I think about those things, about the future that seems to be constantly crumbling as I slip out of my clothes and pull on my robe. My mood is turning to crap. I need to sniff the entire bottle of honeysuckle soap. Maybe mix it up with sweet pea and warm vanilla sugar. I’ll smell like a yummy fruit cocktail. They totally need to make cake scented body wash. I’d probably eat the bottle. Mmmm. Cake. Sighing, I set the basket of goodies on the ledge inside the stall, before pulling the door shut. The little room is like the inside of a cloud as steamy mist billows from the shower stall.