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Tatia’s Tattoo: Chapter 20 – …AND IN THE SLAMMER. Read it here!

The first man who approaches Tatia on the street turns out to be Officer Kevin Adams, and she spends her first night in jail.

For the past few weeks I have been sharing sample chapters of Tatia’s Tattoo. Links to previous chapters are at the end of this post. Following is Chapter 20.

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CHAPTER 20: …AND IN THE SLAMMER

The man reached into his hip pocket and pulled out his wallet. He popped it open with one smooth, practiced move, exposing his badge and confirming Tatia’s worst fears.

“Kevin Adams, Cameron PD. You’re under arrest for prostitution. Stand up and turn around with your hands behind your back.”

As he began reciting her rights, he pulled some flex-cuffs out of his pocket. He hated the things, because if you tightened them too much, you had to cut them off and start over before your detainee ended up with blue hands. The metal ones tended to rattle at the wrong time, though, so he made do.

“Do you understand these rights as I’ve told them to you?” he asked as he tested the cuffs to make sure he hadn’t made them too loose.

“Yes,” said Tatia in a voice so quiet it was almost drowned out by the buzz of her cell phone. “Can I take my phone?”

“You can’t handle it in the car, and you know you can’t keep it when they put you in a cell.”

“Oh,” she replied with tears in her voice.

“First time?” he asked with his voice softening a little.

“Yes.”

He picked up the phone and slid it into his pocket. “They’ll give it back to you when you’re released.”

Tatia nodded, biting her lip and struggling to control the fear of what would happen when she was released. Eric had no patience with girls who cost him time and money by getting arrested. Officer Adams held her arm securely but not roughly as he directed her back to his car, and he was careful not to bump her head when he helped her into the back seat. She knew Eric would not be so gentle.

While he drove to the station, Tatia saw him glancing at her in the rearview mirror every now and then. Finally, he spoke.

“What’s your last name, Kaitlyn?”

“Golden,” she answered.

“How old are you.”

She did a quick mental calculation, making sure her answer matched her ID. “Twenty,” she said.

“Shame,” he said. “If you were, say, sixteen or seventeen, this would be a lot easier for you – especially if you told me where to find the guy you texted back in the room.”

“Oh, that,” she said. “That was just my roommate letting her know that I wouldn’t be home tonight.”

“Ahh,” he said cynically. “I thought it might be your pimp.”

“No, I don’t have a manager. I’m on my own – just making a little spending money,” she said, trying to sound much more blasé than she felt.

Both driver and passenger were silent for the rest of the trip. Adams pulled into a parking lot where he pulled in between two patrol cars. He helped Tatia out and guided her up the steps into the station and past the front desk where an officer was talking on the phone with his feet up on the desk.

“Slow night, huh?” said Adams.

“Yeah. Looks like you got a live one.”

“Uh-huh. Is Anderson here?”

“Yeah, she’s taking a break. We don’t have a houseful, but there are a few ahead of you.”

Tatia’s eyes were wide with apprehension as the reality of her situation played out in front of her. “Where are you taking me?” she whispered to Kevin.

He lowered his voice so only she could hear. “To a holding cell where you’ll stay until we’re ready to complete the booking process. Then you’ll be moved to a pre-arraignment cell where you’ll stay until the judge gets here and gets started tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow?” she said with tears puddling and threatening to spillover.

“It won’t be too bad. I type slow, and the night’s half over anyway.”

“You still have my phone, right?”

“Right here,” he said, patting his pocket.

The holding cell was down the hall from the front desk, but Tatia wished it was miles further. The small barred room was bare except for four metal benches bolted to the wall and the floor, a sink against the back wall, and an exposed toilet next to it. Women were lying on two of the benches with their faces turned toward the wall, and a third was sitting on another. None of them paid any attention as Kevin and Tatia approached. The officer who was sitting outside the cell at a tiny desk, however, gave her a thorough inspection.

“Hey, Adams! Looks like you caught a new one tonight. I haven’t seen her around here before.”

“Be nice, Hill. She’s never been inside before.”

“Yeah, first time but probably not the last. You know the drill – sign her in.” He shoved a clip board toward Kevin and continued his inspection of Tatia. Kevin wrote down her name, his name as the arresting officer, and the time.

“Okay, Hill. Get your lazy butt out of that chair and open the door so we can get on with this.”

While Hill unlocked the door, Kevin pulled a utility knife out of his pocket and used it to remove the cuffs from Tatia’s wrists. She rubbed her wrists, not because they hurt, but because she couldn’t believe she had actually been handcuffed. Hill swung the door open, she took a couple of steps inside, and stopped, frozen in place.

“This might take a little while,” said Kevin. “There are three ahead of you, but Officer Anderson will come get you and finish the process as soon as she can.”

About ten minutes later, Tatia moved toward the remaining vacant bench when she realized her toes were going numb from standing in four-inch heels. She sat on the edge of the bench, just enough to take the pressure off her feet, and stared at her hands to avoid making eye contact with anyone.

Tatia didn’t know how long she had been sitting there when she heard a female voice call out a name. She looked up long enough to watch Officer Anderson collect one of the other women and take her back down the hall. Anderson didn’t look nearly as nice as Kevin. In fact, the tall, husky brunette had a scowling mouth and an intense look that scared Tatia. She scooted back against the wall, tucked her feet under her, and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to keep from trembling.

She must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew, Anderson was calling her name. She stumbled to the door, trying to clear the sleep out of her head, and followed the officer to another room where she was instructed to sit down in the chair beside the desk. Anderson tapped on her keyboard for a few minutes, then, she began to ask Tanya some simple questions.

“Full name?”

Tatia caught herself before she gave her real name. “Kaitlyn Golden.”

She made it through the rest of the questions, stumbling only slightly over her date of birth. She gave Cindy as her contact person, and she answered the medical questions easily since she had always been healthy. Before she printed the completed form, Anderson asked three more questions.

“Do you understand that you are being booked on a charge of Prostitution, a Class B misdemeanor?”

“Yes,” replied Tatia quietly.

“Were your rights read to you, and do you understand those rights?”

“Yes,” she whispered, thinking that the only rights she had were the ones Eric said she had.

“Would you like to make a phone call?”

“Yes, please.”

Anderson dialed the number Tatia gave her and then handed the phone to her. Tatia listened hopefully to several rings, but her face fell as the voice mail activated. She listened to the familiar message before leaving one of her own. “Cindy, I hope you got my text. I’m at the Cameron PD, and court starts in less than an hour. Please come get me!”

The sound of Tatia’s voice was covered by the chatter of the printer next to Anderson’s desk. The officer took the phone back from Tatia and reached into her desk drawer, pulling out an ink pad and another form. As if she was grabbing another implement off her desk, she grabbed Tatia’s hand and began rolling her fingers, first across the ink and then across the form. While she worked, Tatia asked her first question.

“Will I be searched?”

The hint of a smile tugged at one corner of the officer’s mouth. Without looking up, she replied. “Not that a full-body search would be all that new to you, but no. I don’t think you could hide anything under that dress. Besides,” she said, looking at her watch. “It’s less than an hour until court convenes. We won’t even have time to put you into one of our lovely orange jumpsuits.”

Anderson directed Tatia to an area with a backdrop that reminded Tatia of the back of the closet door where her mother measured her every few months to see how much she had grown. It was the first time she could remember being glad her mother was dead – at least she didn’t have to see what her daughter had become.

“Face the camera and hold this in front of you,” said Anderson as she handed her a slate with her name and a series of numbers on it. After snapping a front view and a profile shot, Anderson directed Tatia back to her desk. “Have a seat while I get your inmate ID.”

She came back in a few minutes with a strip of plastic that contained Tatia’s ID number, her name, her mug shot, and a bar code. As Anderson fastened the bracelet around Tatia’s wrist, she caught a glimpse of Tatia’s tattoo peeking out from under her three-quarter-length sleeve. She pushed the sleeve up a little and made a clucking sound with her tongue.

“Looks like you already have an ID. I thought Officer Adams said you were a solo act.”

Tatia pulled her sleeve down, folded her arms across her chest so the tattoo was well hidden, and exercised her right to remain silent.

# # #

Thank you for following Tatia’s adventures through the first 20 of 55 chapters. You can find the complete book on Amazon in either digital for $.99 or paperback.

Preface and Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5| Chapter 6 | Chapter 7| Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16| Chapter 17 | Chapter 18| Chapter 19

Blessings,

Linda

Tatia’s Tattoo: Chapter 19 – ON THE STROLL… Read it here!

Tatia hated picking up clients on the street. She never knew whether she was picking up a crazy man or a cop.

For the past few weeks I have been sharing sample chapters of Tatia’s Tattoo and will continue through Chapter 20. Links to previous chapters are at the end of this post. Following is Chapter 19. Chapter 20 will be posted on Thursday.

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CHAPTER 19: ON THE STROLL…

The first time she was arrested, she was sporting a dark, shoulder-length pageboy. A new client had requested a brunette, so Eric had purchased a wig for her. The client must have been pleased, because he left her a nice tip. After he left, she went into the bathroom to freshen up and make sure her hair was on straight. She didn’t really like the look. The darker color made her face look harsh and angular, and the darker make-up Cindy had told her to use looked overdone. Still, if the client was happy, Eric was happy – and if Eric was happy, so was she.

Eric had said she was booked almost solid for the next several hours, so she was surprised when her phone rang. When she was working, she set it to let only calls from Eric come through, and he never called her while she was entertaining clients.

“Hello?” she said, wondering what she had done wrong now.

“Hey, Tatia,” Eric said in a pleasant tone. “How’d the guy like you as brunette?”

Tatia relaxed a bit, hoping she wasn’t in trouble after all. “He liked it. He left me an extra twenty bucks.”

“Good job. I’ll split the tip with you.”

Tatia started to protest, but she knew better. At least he was only taking half. “Thanks, Eric.”

“No problem, kiddo. Hey, you had a couple of cancellations and a couple of unfilled time slots, so your next client won’t be there for an hour or so.”

Tatia breathed a silent sigh of relief and thought about the book she had just downloaded today. She always carried her reader with her, just in case, and she felt a rush of hopeful excitement at the prospect of some free time to read. Her hopes were short lived, though, as Eric continued.

“I want you to go out and see if you can scout up a quick walk-in or two, if you know what I mean.”

“Sure, Eric,” she said, careful to keep the disappointment out of her voice.

“Just be sure to be ready when your next client gets there at 1:30.”

“OK.”

“Great! Love ya, babe!”

She hated going on the stroll. It was scary enough when Eric pre-screened the clients on-line, but it terrified her to pick up strangers on the street. Not as much as facing Eric’s anger terrified her, though, so she slid into the clingy red dress and the knee-high black boots she had worn to work. She checked her hair and make-up one last time, grabbed her hot pink phone clutch, and slid her room key card into the pocket next to her fake ID. Then, she hit “Messages,” Cindy’s number, and her frequently used emoticons.

After one of the other girls had been mugged in an alley off the stroll the month before, Cindy had made up some special icons. One showed a screaming girl by a car; another showed the same screaming girl sitting on a bed, and the third showed a policeman. The idea was that, in case one of the girls had a problem, all she had to do was hit the appropriate emoticon, send it to Cindy, and she would send help. They hadn’t really talked about what would happen if Cindy was working, but Eric didn’t want them texting him. Even though Tatia had not run into trouble yet, she wanted to be as prepared as possible. Satisfied that she had covered all her bases, she snapped the gaudy rhinestone clasp closed, stepped out the door, and began the two-block walk to the area where prostitutes and their clients often connected.

Tatia sauntered casually down the sidewalk with the hip-swaying gait Cindy had taught her, the one that was guaranteed to attract attention. As she walked, she thought about her new book. She often browsed through the shelves at the library when she had time, making notes of books she might want to download. Recently, she had come across Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers and was instantly captivated. The cover blurb said it was about a girl who was sold into prostitution as a child but later found redemption in the love of God and the love of a godly man. It sounded like a fairy tale, but Tatia couldn’t resist finding out how the author imagined such a miracle might happen.

She was so deep in thought that she was startled when she heard a pleasant male voice say, “Hey there.”

“Oh,” she said, catching her breath as her hand flew up to her chest. “I didn’t hear you drive up.”

One of the reasons this area was so popular with the trade was that the one-way street allowed the drivers to talk to the girls without having to shout across the car or across an oncoming lane of traffic. Tatia recovered her composure and continued to walk slowly forward while offering the driver what she hoped was an inviting smile. He looked to be in his mid-thirties with sandy brown hair that looked as if he ran his hands through it a lot. He also had friendly eyes that crinkled a little bit at the corners when he returned her smile timidly.

“I’m sorry if I scared you,” he said, allowing the car to drift along beside her. “I thought maybe you were looking for some company. Maybe I made a mistake.”

“No, you’re not wrong. I was feeling kinda lonely, so I thought I’d take a walk.” She walked over to the car and leaned into the window. Cindy had taught her that, too. “What did you have in mind?”

“Ummm, I-I-I,” he stuttered. “I’m kinda new at this.”

He certainly wasn’t like a lot of the guys she saw cruising around, acting tough and trying to look cool. Tatia smiled, thinking he might be one of the not-so-bad ones. “Tell you what. I have a room a couple of blocks over. Do you want to come over and have a drink?”

“Sure,” he said, sounding relieved. “That sounds nice.”

Tatia walked around to the passenger’s side and stepped into the car, making sure the hem of her dress slid up provocatively. She buckled herself in and gave him directions to the motel. She told him where to park, led the way to her door, unlocked it, and invited him in.

“By the way,” she said, closing the door behind them, “my name’s Kaitlyn. I don’t really have anything to offer you to drink except a soda from the machine outside.”

“Hi, Kaitlyn. I’m Kevin. I’m not really thirsty anyway,” he said, looking down at the floor.

Tatia chuckled at his innocence. She sat down on the edge of the bed and crossed her long legs.

“Then what do you want, Kevin?” she asked. Knowing the clock was ticking and Eric was expecting results, she began to make suggestions and quote prices. Suddenly, the person in front of her transformed from a timid, insecure mouse into a strong, confident man on a mission, a man she instinctively knew was a cop.

“Crap!” she said under her breath. Her phone clutch was still in her hand, so she flipped open the clasp, touched the third icon, and hit send. “Eric’s gonna kill me.”

# # #

Want to read more? Buy the complete book on Amazon in either digital or paperback.

Preface and Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18

Blessings,

Linda

Tatia’s Tattoo: Chapter 18 – LIMITED OPTIONS. Read it here!

Tatia learns to use her books to escape from reality. But even when she does exactly what Eric tells her to, she can’t escape his wrath.

For the past few weeks I have been sharing sample chapters of Tatia’s Tattoo and will continue through Chapter 20. Links to previous chapters are at the end of this post. Following is Chapter 18. Chapter 19 will be posted on Sunday.

Final_Tatia's Tattoo Cover trim size

CHAPTER 18: LIMITED OPTIONS

Eric took everyone to dinner at an Italian restaurant – nothing like where he had taken Tatia for her birthday, but the food was good, and it was a nice way to spend another few minutes feeling like a normal teenager. After dinner, Eric allowed Zach to drive down the Strip so they could see all the lights at night, but there was no time to stop. He had a full schedule of clients lined up for each girl, so they left the lights behind and spent the next several hours at the motel.

Tatia had been too tired to pay much attention to her assigned room earlier, but as she glanced around now, she noted that it was almost identical to every room she’d been in since she left Josie’s. As it turned out, it looked like every room on the way back to Texas, too – and like the rooms where Cindy had set up shop back in Cameron.

Tatia read a lot on the return trip, mostly in the car, but sometimes in the few minutes between clients. She had learned to separate herself mentally and emotionally from situations she couldn’t deal with, but she also discovered a new ability to withdraw into the world of her books while with her clients. It was a healthier method of getting through the night than the chemicals used by most of the other girls.

The reality of her new life was all too real, though. One morning shortly after the trip, she was between books, so she accepted Cindy’s invitation to go shoe shopping. Tatia was saving for a leather jacket she had seen at the mall, so she watched as her friend picked out a pair of fancy cross trainers and some evening sandals with spiked heels. As Cindy paid for shoes, Tatia knew they would join the many other pairs in the top of her closet, but she was glad to see Cindy look almost happy for a little while. They left the store, chatting about where to have lunch, when Cindy stopped dead still and stared at Tatia.

“Are you on the pill?” she asked urgently.

“No,” said Tatia, surprised by the sudden subject change. “But after that first night, Eric told me to make sure the guys use a condom. You know that, Cindy. You keep me supplied.”

“I know, but those things don’t always work,” she said, dialing her cell phone. “Yes, I’ll hold,” she said impatiently. Looking back at Tatia, she went on. “Eric usually takes care of this part of it. He’s got a special deal worked out with the doc. I can’t believe he forgot – but he sure throws a fit if one of the girls gets pregnant. Last time it happened I thought he was gonna kill her – like it was her fault. Anyway…” she held up her hand while she listened to someone on the other end of the phone.

“Yes, this is Cindy, Eric Hall’s administrative assistant. I need to talk with the doctor. Yes, I’ll hold.”

Later that afternoon, before Tatia’s first client was scheduled, she stood in the alley behind the doctor’s office as Cindy knocked on the door. A short, pudgy man in a lab coat opened the door, and Cindy introduced him as Dr. Simmons. He shook hands with Tatia, and as his eyes slid slowly down her body, she sighed inwardly as she realized her 8:00 o’clock wasn’t going to be her first client of the day after all.

When Tatia wasn’t working, she shared a room with Cindy in the two-bedroom apartment they both shared with Kaycee and Belinda. In the past, Cindy had an apartment by herself or sometimes with one roommate. However, she managed to incur Eric’s wrath more often lately, and while she was recovering from his expressions of that wrath, she comforted herself with junk food and spiked sodas. The evidence of Eric’s abuse and her overindulgence made her less popular with the clients, and her decreased production meant she lost the privilege of upgraded living quarters.

Tatia felt sorry for Cindy, but she was glad to be her roommate. Cindy had a laptop that she used to keep track of the business, and when she wasn’t busy, she let Tatia use it. Tatia had learned about email at the library, so at first she would check to see if anyone was trying to contact her. She received a few messages from Ms. Dunham asking where she was and if she was okay, but when she didn’t respond, even those emails stopped. Instead of focusing on an empty inbox, she surfed the Internet, looking for new sources for free e-books and reading about different authors on Goodreads and other sites devoted to the written word.

Sometimes she looked over Cindy’s shoulder while she was working, and she asked questions about the word and data processing programs she was using. Cindy didn’t seem to mind, and she even let Tatia do some elementary data entry from time to time.

The other girls were not nearly as companionable. They bickered and whined about real or imaginary violations of their limited personal space, and they argued over who worked the hardest and who Eric loved more. In spite of repeated hints and a few outright requests, they continued to smoke inside and to clutter the apartment with dirty clothes, crumpled fast food wrappers, and empty liquor bottles. Tatia worked harder to stay in Eric’s good graces, hoping he would relent and allow her to have her own place with Cindy as a roommate.

The majority of her time, though, was not spent in the apartment but rather in one of the many sleazy motel rooms where she worked. Since he had taken on a couple of new girls, Eric had expanded his underground advertising and his client base. Now that she was always available, he sometimes booked Tatia for ten to twelve hours straight, often selling her to over a hundred men a month.

At first she thought a lot about the time she spent with Eric before her birthday, and hoped that once he had built his finances back up, things would go back to the way they were. She had been disappointed that their first road trip had been a working one with others along instead of a romantic trip for two, but she still wanted to believe that maybe one day he would take her away. Then, one night after a particularly difficult client, she was washing up when Eric came bursting into the room. As she leaned over the sink, he grabbed her by the hair and flung her back into the room where she hit the edge of the bed and slid down onto the floor.

“Eric, what…” she began, looking up at him in confusion.

“Shut up,” he said, backhanding her across the mouth. “Your last customer was very unhappy with you,” he continued in a threatening voice. “I don’t like unhappy customers.”

“Neither do I, Eric. They don’t tip.”

“And did he tip you?” he asked stepping closer and sliding his belt out of its loops.

“No,” she said, her eyes wide with fear.

“He didn’t pay either,” said Eric.

By the time he left the room, she was so badly beaten that she couldn’t work for several days. Eric took her tips for the next several months to make up for the lost income, but there was no way for her to recover her lost dreams.

# # #

Want to read more? Buy the complete book on Amazon in either digital or paperback.

Preface and Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4| Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 |Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17

Blessings,

Linda

Tatia’s Tattoo: Chapter 17 – CHOICES. Read it here!

Tatia finds out the difference between taking a road trip and being on the circuit – something she would rather not know, especially from experience.

For the past few weeks I have been sharing sample chapters of Tatia’s Tattoo and will continue through Chapter 20. Links to previous chapters are at the end of this post. Following is Chapter 17. Chapter 18 will be posted on Thursday.

Final_Tatia's Tattoo Cover trim size

CHAPTER 17: CHOICES

Tatia was exhausted when she arrived at the rendezvous point a few minutes before midnight the following night. She hadn’t slept well, and her last day of school had been emotionally draining. The hours dragged as she went through the motions of a normal evening that was anything but normal. When it was finally time to go, all she wanted to do was stretch out on the bed and sleep. Instead, she peeked into the kids’ rooms, blew them silent kisses, and slipped out the window one last time. She walked along an off-road nature trail to avoid running into a late-night patrol car, and she waited in the trees where she wouldn’t be seen by any passing cars. The sounds of the night made her nervous, and she was relieved when the Beemer pulled up shortly after she reached her hiding place.

Zach jumped out as soon as the car came to a stop. “Evenin’, Miss Tatia, I mean Miss Kaitlyn. Eric said I need to use your new name,” he said, wearing a characteristic grin on his face and a pair of wireless headphones around his neck.

Tatia’s shoulders drooped, and she looked back the way she had come. It seemed she was leaving more behind than she had realized. She was leaving what little was left of herself behind and becoming whatever Eric wanted her to be.

“Miss Kaitlyn, we really need to get moving,” said Zach.

“I’m sorry,” she said, handing him her backpack.

He popped the trunk and stowed it among several bags of various descriptions. She was startled to see that her boots and the blue canvas shopping bag that held her work clothes were there.

“Zach,” she said. “You usually leave my work clothes at the motel after you check me in for the night. Why did you bring it with you?”

“I’ll let the girls explain that to you. Right now, Mr. Eric is in a hurry to get on the road.” He opened the back door and closed it behind her once she was seated beside Kaycee and Belinda, two of Eric’s other girls. Eric was in the front passenger seat, isolated from the rest of the passengers by a black satin eyeshade and a pair of wireless headphones. Zach slid into the driver’s seat, positioned his own headphones, and headed for the highway.

“What’s going on?” whispered Tatia. “I was supposed to have two clients tonight.”

Kaycee, a tiny girl with straight black hair and almond shaped eyes, whispered back. “Eric got a tip that the cops were gonna raid several of the motels tonight, so he cancelled all the appointments. We’ve been hanging out at the coffee shop for an hour or so waiting until time to meet you.”

“What about Cindy and the other girls?”

“They’re getting a night off, too, except for Cindy, of course. She’ll spend all night dealing with irate customers and trying to find safe places to set the girls up and get the cash flowing again. Eric hates downtime when he’s not making money. That’s why he’s hibernating. He’s in a really bad mood.”

Tatia was quiet for a few minutes, mulling over what she had just heard. Then she said, almost to herself, “I still don’t understand why Eric brought my work clothes.”

Belinda, who was a few years older than the other two, spoke up in the tone of a senior speaking to an inexperienced freshman. “You haven’t been on a road trip before, have you?”

“No, but Eric said we’d head up to Las Vegas for a little R & R,” said Tatia, a little defensively. “He said we might even do some sight-seeing, like the Grand Canyon or something.”

Belinda put her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. “Honey, the only sights you’ll be seeing are the ceilings of some different motels and maybe the inside of some truck sleepers. We’re not on a road trip – we’re on the circuit.” With that, she closed her eyes, pulled a sweat jacket over her shoulders like a blanket, and leaned her head against the window.

“Don’t let her get to you,” whispered Kaycee, leaning close to Tatia. “She’s just got her panties in a twist because she’s not queen bee anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if you hadn’t noticed, Eric specializes in really young girls. Once you’re past thirteen or fourteen, a lot of our customers don’t want you. Belinda is seventeen. I wouldn’t be surprised if Eric doesn’t trade her to another stable.”

“But what about Cindy? She’s almost twenty.”

“Cindy’s special. I don’t mean like she and Eric are in love or anything, but she was his first girl, so I think he keeps her around for sentimental reasons. She also knows his business better than he does. She keeps track of his clients, the appointments, the girls – all that kind of stuff.”

As it turned out, Belinda was right. When Eric woke up, he plugged his laptop and his wireless card into the accessory plugs and accessed the Internet. Tatia learned later what he was doing.

First, he contacted a nearby motel known to be friendly to the trade where he booked a room for each of them. Then, he went to one of several underground websites that specialize in advertising the services of prostitutes on the move. He posted the ages and vital stats of the girls along with their availability, and within an hour, they were all booked for four solid hours – three to four clients an hour. After their work was done, the girls had time for a shower and a few hours sleep before they grabbed a quick breakfast and hit the road again.

The next two nights they didn’t bother with a motel. Instead, Eric put out the word that they would be at a well-known truck stop around midnight. Again, all three girls were busy for several hours, moving in the shadows at the back of the parking lot from one truck to another. The nights at the truck stops were the worst, because they slept in the car while they traveled to the next destination. Eric wouldn’t even allow them to shower in the truck stops because of the cops that often dropped in for coffee and a bite to eat. On those nights, the smell of sweat, unwashed bodies, and stale cigarette smoke clung to all of them and kept Tatia awake until she finally passed out from exhaustion.

In the wee hours of Sunday morning, after leaving another truck stop behind, Tatia was sitting in a cloud of second-hand smoke, wondering how long it took to develop lung problems. When Kaycee offered her a cigarette, she accepted it out of boredom and self defense. It made her cough, and she hated the way it tasted, but it gave her something to do. Kaycee and Belinda agreed that she looked more sophisticated and a bit sexy when she smoked, so at the next stop, she bought a pack of her own along with a disposable lighter.

Later in the morning, they finally drove into Las Vegas. The girls gawked and oohed and aahed as they rolled slowly past one glitzy hotel after another, but Eric told Zach to keep driving. Finally, he directed the driver into the parking lot of a motel that was off the Strip. It was far from five stars but was still better than many they had seen. While Zach went in to register and get room keys, Eric turned toward the back seat.

“Okay, time for a little break. It’s 9:00 now. Go take a shower and get some rest. Meet me back here at 3:00 this afternoon, and we’ll go on a little outing. Dress casual.”

The girls each had a separate room, so they knew they’d be entertaining clients later, but they were too tired to care. Tatia took a hot shower and crawled into bed with her hair still wet. She set the alarm on her cell phone and immediately fell into a restless sleep – and a new nightmare.

She fought to free herself from the arms that grasped her, crying out silently for Mama. Mama didn’t come, though. She was lying in a box with Daddy, both of them cold and lifeless, staring up at her with painted faces that melted into a pile of ashes while Eric grabbed at her, pulling her through the door of a shabby motel room filled with men waiting in line beside a bed covered with dirty, rumpled sheets. They chanted her name again and again as she struggled toward a persistent ringing sound just outside the door.

The fog of sleep thinned slightly – enough for Tatia to realize the ringing was her alarm and that the restraint she felt was from the sheets that were tangled around her and not Eric’s arms. She groped for her phone and raised one eyelid far enough to peek at the time. She groaned when she saw that it was already 2:30. Still exhausted, her body aching from the abuse she had endured the last three nights, she wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and sink into the oblivion of sleep. She feared the nightmares that waited there, though, and she feared Eric’s anger if she didn’t show up as ordered, so she dragged herself out of the snarled bedclothes and headed for the bathroom.

At two minutes before 3:00, Tatia trudged across the parking lot toward Belinda and Kaycee who looked somewhat refreshed as they leaned against the car, chatting and waiting for Eric to arrive. They fell silent as they saw Tatia, and Belinda eyed her with a sneer.

“Hey, girl! You look like something I scooped out of my cat’s litter box. You having trouble keeping up the pace?”

Kaycee shushed her quietly. “Hush, Belinda. You know Eric doesn’t like it when you rag on the other girls. Besides, Tatia’s not an old pro like you.”

Belinda scowled at her emphasis on the word “old,” but Kaycee ignored her and turned her attention to Tatia. “What’s the matter, girlfriend? Didn’t you get any sleep?”

“Not so much,” she said, stifling a yawn. “Too many dreams.”

“If Cindy were here, she could fix that,” said Belinda with a raised eyebrow.

“Right,” said Kaycee, “and then she’d need something to wake up, and on and on.”

“Don’t be so self-righteous. I’ve seen you pop a few uppers and downers in your time.”

Before the conversation turned into a real scrap, Eric and Zach showed up and jumped into the car. The two girls glared at each other as they slid into the back seat, and Tatia followed silently, ignoring them both and leaning her head against the window.

Eric directed Zach to a nearby shopping mall – not one of the fancy ones for tourists but one that looked as if it was frequented by the locals. When Zach had parked, Eric pulled out his money clip and gave each one of them, including Zach, two hundred dollars.

“You’ve worked hard. I have a meeting, so go have some fun. You, too, Zach. I’ll drive myself. Stay together or split up, whatever you want. Just be back at this entrance at 6:00 pm. We’ll go have some dinner before we go back to the motel. Don’t make me wait – we’re booked solid tonight.”

Belinda and Kaycee, drawn back together by the prospect of spending money, immediately began planning new outfits. Kaycee asked Tatia if she wanted to come with them, but she shook her head. “I don’t think so. I’m going to look for a bookstore.”

Nobody asked Zach, but he walked beside Tatia as she headed for the entrance. “I don’t care much for clothes, so I think I’ll tag along with you if that’s okay.”

“Sure, Zach,” she said, brightening up a little. “I’d enjoy the company.”

“So you like to read, huh?” he asked.

“Yes, I usually take a book or two everywhere I go. But when Eric told me about this trip, I didn’t realize we’d be spending so much time in the car and, well, indoors. I didn’t bring anything to read, and I don’t sleep very well in the car, so there’s nothing to do but smoke – and I don’t like cigarettes much.”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Reading is much better for your health.” They walked in silence for a few minutes, looking in the windows and watching the other shoppers. Then, Zach broke the silence. “Hey, I have an idea. Have you ever used one of those e-readers?”

“No, I haven’t, but that’s a great idea.”

“I think some of them even light up so you can read in the dark.”

She was energized, now that she had a goal. They found a map of the mall and located an electronics store one floor up and a few stores down on the right. She found a helpful salesman, and while he was showing her the options, Zach entertained himself by testing out all the latest headphones. She settled for a simple backlit reader so she would have as much left over as possible for e-books. The salesman helped her buy a couple of books and then helped her set up a gift card online with her extra money. All she had to do when she finished the books she had was choose another title.

When she was finished, she found Zach comparing the pictures on a line of TVs. “I’m all set and ready to read,” she said holding up her bag. “We have over an hour left. Now we need to spend your money.”

“No,” he said, suddenly seeming a little shy. “I’m saving for an engagement ring. With what Eric gave me today, I’m almost there.”

“Well congratulations,” said Tatia. “She’s a very lucky lady.”

“No, I’m the lucky one,” he said.

“So, how about the food court. I know Eric said we were going to dinner, but spending money makes me hungry.”

“Sounds good. I could use a snack.”

They found the food court without too much trouble, and he bought a slice of pepperoni while she ordered a cup of non-fat strawberry frozen yogurt. While they ate, they chatted about books they had read and places they would like to travel. When they finished, they disposed of their trash and strolled toward the entrance, as comfortable in each other’s company as if they had known each other forever.

They reached the parking lot before any of the others, so they found a bench and sat down. She reached in her purse, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and offered him one.

“No, thanks. I don’t smoke,” he said.

“But you have a pack right there in your shirt pocket.”

“Yes, I do, but have you ever seen me smoke one?”

She thought for a moment before answering. “Now that you mention it, no I haven’t.”

“I carry them because Eric expects me to have them in case he runs out. I don’t like the taste of them, and I don’t like how I smell after I’ve smoked them.”

“Yeah, me too. In fact, I had never smoked until this trip, but Belinda and Kaycee said I look good smoking.”

“Tatia, you’re a beautiful young lady, and you look good regardless of what you’re doing. But I personally don’t find a smoking woman particularly attractive.”

Tatia’s cheeks colored at the unexpected compliment. “Thanks for the kind words and the good advice.” She looked at the cigarettes and put them back in her purse. “You’re right, of course. I don’t seem to have much choice about what I do for a living, but I have decided not to drink or do drugs. I guess I can do without this vice, too. Maybe I’ll keep these just in case Eric runs out.”

They laughed as Belinda and Kaycee ran up behind them, giggling breathlessly, and Eric screeched to a stop in front of them and beeped the horn.

“Well,” said Zach, standing up. “Duty calls.”

“Yeah,” Tatia sighed. “No rest for the wicked.”

# # #

Want to read more? Buy the complete book on Amazon in either digital or paperback.

Preface and Chapter 1 |Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 |Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 |Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16

Blessings,

Linda

Tatia’s Tattoo: Chapter 16 – PREPARATIONS. Read it here!

Tatia shares Josie’s suspicions with Eric, and he suggests a road trip and a complete break from her old life. What lies ahead for her on that road?

For the past few weeks I have been sharing sample chapters of Tatia’s Tattoo. Links to previous chapters are at the end of this post. Following is Chapter 16. Chapter 17 will be posted on Sunday.

Final_Tatia's Tattoo Cover trim size

CHAPTER 16: PREPARATIONS

Tatia was a little disappointed to see the Beemer parked at the library and the driver, Zach, leaning against the back door, but she had learned to limit her expectations. “Afternoon, Miss Tatia,” he said. “How was school?”

She held out her hand and waggled it back and forth.

He laughed. “That good, huh?”

“Yeah,” she said as he opened the door. She smiled when she saw Eric sitting inside holding out a large decaf mocha. “But I think it just got better.”

She slid in as the door closed, dropped her backpack on the floor, fastened her seat belt, and took the cup from Eric. “Thanks, I needed this!” She took a sip and settled back contentedly in her seat. She was learning to enjoy the simple things.

Zach started the engine and looked at Eric in the rear-view mirror. “Where to, Boss?”

“Just drive around – and put on your headphones.”

“You got it,” Zach answered with a grin. He slipped on a pair of wireless headphones and cranked up the music so loud that Tatia could hear the bass line in the back seat.

“Trouble at home, huh?” asked Eric.

“Trouble everywhere,” she said, and she explained what was going on.

“Hmmm,” he said when she had finished. “I hadn’t planned on doing this for another few months, but it may be time for a road trip.”

“A road trip? You’re not going to leave me here to handle this all by myself, are you?”

“Now, would I do that to my best girl?” he said, leaning over and kissing her lightly. “No, I’m thinking you and me – and maybe two or three of the other girls – might head up to Las Vegas for a little R & R. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like fun, but won’t things just be worse when we get back?”

“They’ll be a lot different, but I don’t think they’ll be worse,” he explained. “I’m talking about making a complete break – leaving Josie and school and all that kid stuff behind.”

“I don’t know, Eric. Being a runaway is not a good thing when you’re a foster kid.”

“But you’re not a kid anymore,” he said, holding her face gently in his hand. “You’re Kaitlyn Golden, nineteen-year-old woman of the world. I mean, have you ever traveled, ever been anywhere outside of Texas?”

“No,” she admitted. “It would be fun to see a little bit of the world. Do you think we could see the Grand Canyon?”

“I don’t see why not!”

“Well, if we’re going to do this, it needs to be soon. Report cards are due next week, and then it’s gonna hit the fan.”

“Okay. You have a couple of clients tomorrow night. Just slip a few extra changes of clothes into your backpack, and you just don’t go home.”

Tatia drew in a shaky breath and blew it out. “Okay. Let’s do it!”

Eric slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her as close as he could without strangling her with her shoulder harness. “That’s my girl!” he said, giving her a squeeze. Always ready for adventure, right?”

She laid her head on his shoulder, enjoying the momentary tenderness in spite a nagging feeling that this might be more of a disaster than an adventure. His attention was short-lived, though, and after a minute, he released her dismissively and said, “Well, babe, I gotta get back to work.” He leaned up and tapped Zach on the shoulder. Zach lifted up his headphone on one side and turned his head toward Eric without taking his eyes off the road.

“Drop Tatia at the usual spot, then head back into Cameron.”

Zach nodded and dropped the headphone back into place.

Tatia finished her mocha while Eric focused on his phone. When the car stopped, she hopped out before Zach had time to come around and open the door. “Bye, Eric. See you tomorrow night.”

“Sure, babe,” he said absently. “I’ll send the car at the usual time.”

She picked up her backpack and trudged home, wondering how big a mistake she was making. She knew that after tomorrow night she would be basically homeless, sharing an apartment with several of the other girls, depending on the good will of the man who had stolen what was left of her childhood. Still, sometimes he was totally loving and generous, more than anyone since her mother and father. As long as she did what he told her, she would be fine – at least that’s what she told herself.

Tatia arrived home well before dinner, much to Josie’s surprise. She worked hard, catching up on the cleaning and laundry she had neglected recently. While she waited for the dryer to finish, she helped Josie with dinner, and afterward, she helped the younger kids with their baths, read them a story, and put them to bed. When all the clothes were folded and put away, she went to say goodnight to Josie.

“It’s good to have the old Tatia back,” said Josie as she gave Tatia an awkward hug. “I hated to come down on you like that this morning, but sometimes all of us need a little wake-up call.”

“Yeah,” said Tatia. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a pain.”

Josie smiled. “I understand. Sleep well, and if you don’t, come wake me and we’ll have some hot chocolate or something.”

“Thanks. Good night,” Tatia said, knowing Josie really didn’t understand. No one did. She also knew how Josie was if she was awakened in the middle of the night. She’d rather deal with the nightmares.

She went into her room and closed the door. She sat down on the bed and looked around, taking a mental inventory of her possessions. After tomorrow night, everything she owned would fit in her backpack – along with the small collection of “work clothes” that Cindy kept in her apartment. She would leave everything else behind and hope that Josie would pass on anything worth saving to the younger girls.

She began to sort through her clothes, putting the ones she would take into a single drawer. She looked through her small collection of stuffed animals and decided to leave them all behind with her childhood. She had few other toys – two dolls and a few games, none of which she would need where she was going. Finally, she sat down at her tiny desk and went through the drawers. She took out the spiral notebook she had used as a journal since Ms. Dunham had suggested it the year before along with the pink gel pen Eric had give her a lifetime ago. She also grabbed a blank spiral and a couple of extra pens. She was about to close the drawer when she caught sight of the box that held her keepsakes from camp.

She carried the box to the bed where she spent the next half hour reliving what she was sure would be the last happy time of her life. She reread all the notes from her counselor and from camp aunts, uncles, and grandparents. She admired the bookmark she had made and the key chain she had woven. She spent most of her time looking through the photo album her counselor had put together using the many pictures the camp photographers had snapped during the week. Tears began to run down her face and drip off her chin when she looked at the picture of herself dressed in her business outfit, trying to imagine what it would be like to be a famous lawyer on her way to the trial of the century. She closed the album, not wanting to be reminded of how far she was from that dream.

She put the album back in the box with the intention of leaving it behind with all the memories. Then her hand brushed against something hard, and she saw the smooth rock with the word “Strength” painted on it. She smiled through the tears as she remembered Mrs. G’s words when she gave it to her – “I see strength in you.” – the same words the Ink Guy has said to her. She picked up the stone and saw Mrs. G’s card underneath. She remembered Mrs. G telling her that she could call any time she was in trouble. This certainly qualified, but she doubted that even Mrs. G could solve this problem. Still, there was something inside her that said there was still hope, and she realized she wasn’t ready to cut all ties to her past. Instead of putting it back in the desk, she put the box in the drawer with the clothes she planned to take.

All she had left to pack were her toiletries which she would put in at the last minute, so she was as ready as she could be. She took a quick shower and crawled into bed, wondering where she would sleep the following night.

# # #

Want to read more? Buy the complete book on Amazon in either digital  for $.99 or paperback.

Preface and Chapter 1 |Chapter 2 | Chapter 3| Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6| Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 |Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15

Blessings,

Linda

Tatia’s Tattoo: Chapter 15 – Suspicion. Read it here!

Tatia’s excuses are wearing thin, and her foster mother Josie is getting suspicious.

For the past few weeks I have been sharing sample chapters of Tatia’s Tattoo. Links to previous chapters are at the end of this post. Following is Chapter 15. Chapter 16 will be posted on Thursday.

Final_Tatia's Tattoo Cover trim size

CHAPTER 15: SUSPICION

School started the week after Tatia’s makeover, and her double life began to take even more of a toll. She was so tired during the day that, even though she didn’t actually fall asleep, her class participation suffered, she missed assignments, and her grades were well below previous years. She managed to cover the interim reports of failing grades by forging Josie’s signature, but she hadn’t come up with a plan to avoid showing her report card when the other kids came home with theirs.

Her Saturday excuses were wearing thin, too. She had become lax in doing her chores, Macy had begun to whine about babysitting so often, and Josie had become suspicious. She was growing tired of taking up the slack, and she started asking questions that were hard to answer.

On a Wednesday morning after a very late night, Tatia woke up late and was rushing out without breakfast when Josie blocked the door. “Cade had an interesting story at breakfast this morning,” she said.

Cade was her five-year-old foster brother, and Tatia’s heart jumped into her throat as she wondered what he might have said. “He loves making up interesting stories,” she said. “I’m really running late this morning. Can you tell me about it when I get home?”

“You can spare a minute. Cade said he got up to go to the bathroom, and he heard something in your room. He peeked in the door and saw a burglar climbing in your window. What do you have to say about that?”

“He probably had a dream. That’s all.”

“I thought of that, but I went out and checked around your window. Your window screen was on the ground propped up against the side of the house, and there were lots of footprints in the flowerbed under it.”

Tatia’s heart was beating faster as she searched for a plausible answer. “I haven’t been sleeping well lately. The nightmares have come back. Sometimes when I wake up and have trouble going back to sleep, I go for a walk.”

“And you climb out the window to go for your nightly walks?”

“I don’t want to wake the kids. You know they leave their doors open. Now, I really have to go or I’ll be late for first period.”

“Okay,” Josie said, stepping out of the way. “But you’d better not be lying to me. If I find out you’ve been sneaking out to see some boy or letting one come into your room, I’ll tell Ms. Dunham to find another placement for you.”

“I’m not seeing a boy, Josie. I promise,” said Tatia as she made a mad dash for the bus.

She made it to the corner just in time and fell breathlessly into her seat just as the bus pulled away from the stop. She pulled her cell phone out of her backpack and dashed off a text to Eric.

I need to talk to you after school. Josie suspects.

He hadn’t been meeting her after school for the last several weeks and hadn’t been picking her up for work himself. He had explained that business was so good that managing it was taking more time. Tatia knew what kind of managing he had been doing, because she had seen him squiring around a hot new brunette. She didn’t really mind. Her fantasy of his being her Prince Charming had faded the day he stood over her with his belt in hand. With his attention focused elsewhere, she was less likely to experience a repeat performance.

He had also explained that the extra business was bringing in extra money that had allowed him to purchase a late model Beemer and hire a driver to pick her up. She rather enjoyed being chauffeured around. If she was alone in the back seat, she sometimes had time for a quick nap. Some days, though, when there were lots of clients, they made several stops to pick up other girls, and it was almost like a party until they arrived in Cameron and the driver began dropping them off at various motels. After an evening of dealing with the reality of their lives, the ride home was much less festive.

In spite of his busy schedule, Eric still checked on Tatia regularly, and he always told her she could contact him any time she needed him. Apparently, he meant it. By the time she arrived at school, he had responded.

How about a decaf mocha?

She sent him a thumbs up emoticon and slipped the phone into her backpack.

# # #

Want to read more? Buy the complete book on Amazon in either digital or paperback.

Preface and Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11| Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14

Blessings,

Linda

Tatia’s Tattoo – Read Chapter 12 Here!

Eric promised her love, but instead he emptied her of any shred of hope she had left and filled her with fear.

For the past few weeks I have been sharing sample chapters of Tatia’s Tattoo. Links to previous chapters are at the end of this post. Following is Chapter 12. Chapter 13 will be posted on Sunday.

Final_Tatia's Tattoo Cover trim size

CHAPTER 12: AFTER THE PARTY

With the help of the pill Cindy had given her, and the ability she had developed through the years of disassociating her mind from reality, Tatia made it through the next half hour, but in spite of Eric’s reassurance, her life never went back to the way it was.

After her first client left, she took another hot shower and put on her jeans and pink T-shirt while crying for her lost childhood. She wiped the steam off the mirror and stared at the face that no longer looked familiar. The hair was still blonde, but the blue eyes looked flat, lifeless, and so very tired. She wanted nothing more than to go to sleep and wake up yesterday when she was eleven and innocent. Instead, she walked over to the corner, staying as far away from the bed as she could, and sat down in the single plastic chair next to a tiny table. Whatever Cindy had given her was making it hard for her to focus, so she crossed her arms on the table and laid her head down.

She didn’t know how long she stayed like that, but the next thing she knew, Eric was shaking her gently by the shoulder. “Tatia, wake up, honey. I have to get you home before Josie calls the cops.”

She was groggy and disoriented, but when she caught a glimpse of the rumpled bed, she recoiled, both from Eric’s touch and from the memory of what had happened. She jumped up and spun away from him, putting the chair between them. However, the sudden movement made her light-headed, and she clutched the back of the chair to keep from falling.

“Are you okay?” said Eric, reaching out a hand to steady her. Then, he put a finger under her chin and tilted her head up until he could look into her slightly dilated pupils. “Are you on something?”

“Just half a pill Cindy gave me,” she said, slurring slightly.

His eyes darkened in anger, and he struggled to keep his tone level. “Don’t ever take anything Cindy gives you. Do you hear me?” She nodded, her eyes wide with fear. “Good. I don’t need another druggy on my hands. Now, get your stuff, and let’s go.”

They rode in silence until they were three blocks from her house. He pulled over to the side of the road and turned to face her. “You did real good tonight, Tatia. My friend really liked you.”

She stared at her hands and remained silent. He slid his arm gently around her shoulders, pulled her to him, and kissed her hair. “I really am sorry that I hurt you before. I shouldn’t drink that much, especially when you look so good.” He kissed her temple. “Hey, beautiful, are you still my girl?”

She tried to resist, but she wanted to believe him. She nodded her head slowly and looked up at him, searching his eyes for the reassurance she so badly needed. He laid his free hand against her face and kissed her gently. “I love you, Tatia. You believe that, don’t you?”

She nodded and laid her head on his shoulder, surrendering what little was left of her will to his manipulation. He hugged her tightly to him as he checked his watch over her shoulder. He brushed another kiss against her hair and whispered, “I could sit here like this all night, but you’d better get on home.”

“Okay,” she said, pulling away and avoiding his eyes. She opened the door and stood on the side of the road, watching while he made a quick u-turn, flashed a smile, and sped away, leaving her more empty and alone than she had been since her mama died.

# # #

Want to read more? Buy the complete book on Amazon in either digital or paperback.

Preface and Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8| Chapter 9 | Chapter 10| Chapter 11

Blessings,

Linda

Tatia’s Tattoo – Read Chapter 11 Here!

Tatia’s childhood ends on her 12th birthday as she becomes another sad statistic.

For the past few weeks I have been sharing sample chapters of Tatia’s Tattoo. Links to previous chapters are at the end of this post. Following is Chapter 11. Chapter 12 will be posted on Thursday.

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CHAPTER 11: STATISTICS

Eric stomped over to the connecting door and flung it open. “Cindy,” he yelled, “Get in here!”

“I’m with a client!”

“Well, hurry it up,” he replied as he slammed the door.

Three minutes later, Cindy came through the door. She didn’t look happy. “What was that all about? Thanks to the interruption, he didn’t even leave a tip.”

Eric grabbed the front of her robe and pulled her up close enough for her to smell what he had for dinner. “Watch your mouth! You can be replaced, you know.”

“Okay, okay. I’m just trying to keep the customers happy. What did you need anyway?”

“I need you to get Tatia ready for her nine o’clock. She’s in the bathroom bawling – and she’ll need something to wear.”

Cindy scanned the room quickly, not missing the rumpled, stained sheets and the torn dress lying on the floor. “Been sampling the merchandise, huh?” she smirked, scurrying back to her room before he could swing the fist he raised threateningly.

“One day you’ll push me too far!” he yelled as he kicked a small silver sandal across the floor and stormed out the door into the parking lot.

Cindy peeked back into the room a minute later and, seeing that the coast was clear, she came in carrying her make-up bag and a robin’s-egg-blue baby-doll nightie. She knocked gently on the bathroom door and called out quietly.

“Hey, honey. It’s me – Cindy. Can I come in?”

The door opened slowly, and Tatia, sobbing and wrapped in a towel, threw herself into Cindy’s arms. “Oh, Cindy. Why did he do that to me? I thought he cared about me. And when he says I have to be nice to his friend, he doesn’t mean…that, does he? I wish I was dead!”

Cindy, definitely not the motherly type, patted Tatia’s back awkwardly, making what she hoped were soothing, calming sounds. “Don’t cry, baby. He’s just like that sometimes, especially when he drinks. His friend won’t be so bad. He’s gettin’ old, and he’ll be done and gone before you know it.”

Her reassurances didn’t help. Tatia drew back in horror. “NO! I won’t do it. He can’t make me.”

“Honey, you don’t want to cross him. He can get real nasty when he doesn’t get what he wants.” She had moved closer to Tatia and encouraged her sit down on the toilet seat. While she dabbed at Tatia’s smeared make-up, her robe fell open revealing a huge bruise on her thigh. Tatia reached out a tentative finger and touched the purplish mark that looked strangely like a hand.

“Did he do that to you?”

“Yeah, but I probably deserved it. I can get pretty mouthy in case you hadn’t already noticed.”

The color drained out of Tatia’s face as her eyes fell on the sheer nightie and she realized the hopelessness of her situation. “Do I have to wear that?”

“Honey, I know it’s not as fancy as that little black number, but it will look sensational on you – much better than it does on me. The blue will really bring out your eyes. Now slip it on and then I’ll see if I can straighten your hair a bit.”

Tatia did as she was told, moving mechanically and keeping her back to the mirror. At the same time, Cindy unwrapped one of the plastic glasses on the bathroom counter and filled it with water. She pulled a small bottle out of her pocket and shook a tiny pill into her hand. She broke it in half, popped half of it in her mouth and held the other half out to Tatia along with the water.

“Here ya’ go. This is just a little something to take the edge off.” Tatia started to object, but Cindy shushed her and continued. “It’s just a mild sedative, nothing that’s gonna hurt you. It’ll just help you deal with everything. It’s a lot for a kid your age. How old are you anyway?”

Tatia took the pill and washed it down with a swallow of water. “Twelve. Today’s my birthday,” Tatia said almost too quietly for Cindy to hear.

Cindy’s face flushed, first with anger and then with tears that threatened to spill over her carefully-lined lids. Then, she visibly pulled her emotional armor back in place and produced a small tube from the other pocket.

“Here, take this. Rub it around, you know, down there. It’ll kind of numb that area so it doesn’t hurt so much. All the new girls use it.”

“All the girls?” Tatia asked, eyes wide with disbelief. “You mean there are more?”

“Oh, yeah! Eric has a stable of a couple dozen fillies. You’re the finest one he’s brought in so far, though.” She knew she’d said too much when Tatia’s eyes became glistening pools, putting her freshly applied make-up at risk. “Now, now, don’t you worry yourself about any of that. Like I said, I let my mouth run away with me sometimes. Just take a deep breath and think how happy Eric will be with you after his friend leaves.”

Cindy went over to the bed and began straightening the disheveled sheets.

“Cindy?”

“Yeah, honey.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

Cindy made a strange noise – something between a sob and a laugh. “Don’t worry about that. He’ll know, and he’ll tell you what he wants you to do. And don’t be afraid of this one. He’s pretty easy to please.”

A soft knock at the door made both girls freeze in place, looking into each other’s faces. Cindy saw the terror in Tatia’s eyes, so she winked and said, “Relax and enjoy the ride. You look stunning, and you’ll be amazed at the power you have. See ya’ later.” Before Tatia could reply, Cindy scooted through the connecting door and closed it quietly behind her.

As that door closed, the front door opened a few inches, and a soft voice said, “May I come in?”

Tatia relaxed a little bit when she heard Eric’s voice, but she tensed and stared at the floor as he approached her. She flinched slightly as he reached out and put his index finger under her chin.

“Tatia?” he said tentatively.

He sounded like the Eric she thought she knew, so she allowed him to lift her face until she was looking into his eyes. “I am so sorry I hurt you before. The last thing I want to do is see you unhappy or in pain. You believe that, don’t you?”

She wanted to lash out at him, demanding that he take her home immediately, but she remembered the fear in Cindy’s eyes and the bruise on her leg. There was also a part of her that wanted to believe him, to go back to the way they were yesterday, so she nodded her head and let him draw her into a tender embrace. She laid her head on his chest and felt the vibrations of his voice as he continued to talk.

“This is hard for me, too, you know. I can hardly stand the thought of you with another man, and if there was any other way, I’d take it. But after he’s gone, things will go back to the way they were. Okay?”

She nodded, and he lifted her face again, stared into her eyes for what seemed like an eternity, and brushed her lips lightly with his. The moment was exactly the birthday kiss she had imagined, except that she was in a borrowed nightie instead of her beautiful new dress, and she was about to become one more statistic in the sex-trafficking industry in a small Texas town.

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Want to read more? Buy the complete book on Amazon in either digital ($.99) or paperback.

Preface and Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

Blessings,

Linda

Mom’s Long Goodbye – Prologue & Chapter 1

MLG Promo 2 Read the Prologue and Chapter 1 for free. If you want to read further, get the ebook for $.99 at Amazon.

PROLOGUE

You Say Goodbye, but You Don’t Go Away

Genesis 24:56 (KJV) And he said unto them, Hinder me not, seeing the Lord hath prospered my way; send me away that I may go to my master.

Some people have a hard time saying goodbye. There are the false-start types. When it’s time to leave, they say, “I’d better get on home now,” but they stand in the doorway, keys in hand, and talk for another fifteen minutes. Sometimes, it takes them several more attempts before they actually make it out the door.

There are also the revolving-door types. They make it out the door quickly enough, but they pop back in several times to retrieve something they forgot or to tell you one more thing. I tend toward the second type, and I have a friend who finds it amusing. On my second or third round trip back, she smiles knowingly and says, “You say goodbye, but you don’t go away.”

There’s another type of person who takes a long time to say goodbye. It’s not a loveable personality trait that makes them linger in the doorway to tell you just one more thing or a quirky forgetfulness that makes it difficult to leave. Instead, it’s tangled knots of nerves in their brain that become encrusted with plaque and steal them away from their loved ones a piece at a time. Mom was one of those people. She had Alzheimer’s, and it took her fifteen years to say goodbye.

CHAPTER 1

Fear and the Red Photo Album

2 Timothy 1:7 For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.

 Mom was afraid for a long time. I found evidence of her fear in an old, red photo album, the kind with a thick cardboard cover bound with braided cord. It had a rose embossed on the front, and I sat on the floor, wondering what forgotten pictures were inside. Instead of pictures, there were articles. Page after page of neatly clipped and mounted stories about dementia and Alzheimer’s. Stories of symptoms, stories of promising theories, stories with more questions than answers, stories of Mom’s first steps into the darkness.

#

Mom was always a fearful person, especially when she was alone. Dad worked nights several times during their seventy-year marriage. She sometimes told the story of being a young bride, left alone in an isolated country house while her groom worked at the ice house every night. One evening, she was awakened from a restless sleep by a terrible noise. She later described it as sounding like someone was trying to get into the house straight through the wall of her bedroom. She had no phone and no close neighbors, so she huddled in the center of the bed, trembling with fear and wondering how long she had left to live.

The noise continued for a while, but when the walls didn’t splinter and the threat didn’t seem to increase, she screwed up her courage and crept outside to investigate. She slipped down the front steps and peeked around the corner, and there, she saw it. An old milk cow was chewing on the grass that grew up beside the pier and beam foundation that supported the house. She laughed about it after the fact, but she and I had a replay of sorts years later when I was in my early teens.

We lived in the city by then, and Dad still worked nights, this time at the post office. My older brother, Jim, was away at college, so Mom and I were on our own. I was sound asleep when I was awakened by an urgent whisper.

“Linda! Come in here. Somebody’s trying to get in the window.”

I jumped up and ran into her room. She was sitting up in bed, her back pressed against the headboard with the covers drawn up to her chin.

“There,” she said, pointing to the window beside her pillow. “Somebody was scratching on the screen.”

I sat on the side of the bed for a minute, staring at the window. The closed window shade was backlit by a full moon and gave off an eerie glow. Suddenly, a shadow passed across the window, and I scooted under the covers and into Mom’s arms. We sat that way for a few minutes, but when there was no further movement or sound, curiosity overcame fear, and I slid out of bed and tiptoed to the window. I pulled the shade away just far enough to peek out.

“I don’t see anything. I’m going to call Dad.”

Without turning on a light, I went to the phone that sat in its recessed nook in the hallway wall. All the modern houses had them. Like a blind person reading Braille, I slid my fingers over the dial, counted the holes, and dialed the number.

“Dad, I think somebody’s trying to get in. Something was scratching on the screen in your bedroom, and I saw a shadow on the shade.”

“Did you look out?”

“Yes, I peeped out and couldn’t see anyone.”

“Okay. Stay away from the window. I’m going to call the police.” “Okay.”

Within minutes, we heard a car pull up in front of the house and saw the beams of flashlights as Mesquite’s finest investigated. Then, we heard a knock on the door.

“We didn’t find anything, Ma’am, but we’ll have a patrol car drive by here frequently for the rest of the night.”

When Dad got home the next morning, he found us still huddled together under the covers. He immediately went out to investigate; he was laughing when he came back inside.

“I didn’t find any footprints or anything, but I did find some evidence. There were rat droppings on the window sill.”

We took a bit of kidding about being afraid of the dark, but Mom wasn’t just afraid of things that go bump in the night. She was afraid in the daylight, too. She was afraid of making a mistake, afraid of looking foolish in front of others, of being embarrassed, of being looked down on.

She had a beautiful voice and helped lead the singing in her tiny, country church when she was a teenager. That was before air conditioning, when church windows actually opened and congregations cooled themselves with cardboard fans provided by the local funeral home. One Sunday morning, a fly flew in an open window  and straight into Mom’s mouth as she sang. She was so embarrassed she became reluctant  to lead the singing. Not long after that, she learned that the former song leader had been diagnosed with throat cancer. Fearful that his singing might have contributed to his illness, she retired from her leadership position and rejoined the congregation.

She had other musical talents, too. She learned to play the guitar by watching her uncles when the kinfolks gathered for a songfest, and she also played the piano by ear. We had an old player piano we inherited from one relative or another. The player mechanics had been removed, Dad had refinished it, and Mom spent many happy hours playing honky-tonk tunes and old gospel favorites. When we moved from a small West Texas town into the suburbs of Dallas, though, she feared that city folks would look down on her country origins, so she did her best to cover them up. Her guitar was relegated to the back of her closet, and the piano was made available for me to practice the Old Masters favored by my piano teacher.

Mom also feared illness and physical infirmities of all kinds. She was born with yellow jaundice, as it was known in the country, and she was sickly as a child. As an adult, she endured a tonsillectomy, an appendectomy, a hysterectomy, three spinal fusions, and the removal of a deformed kidney, so she saved her best nightgowns for her next trip to the hospital. She feared falling victim to any epidemic or new disease that made the rounds of the morning talk shows. In spite of her fear, or maybe because of it, she often developed the symptoms of those diseases. What she feared most, though, was Alzheimer’s. I didn’t realize how much until I found that old photo album. Mom and Dad lived with us for six years before they went into assisted living. By that time, neither of them was capable of making the decisions necessary in downsizing. I went through their personal belongings and made piles: things to pack, things to store, things to donate, things to throw away. I found trash, and I found treasures—and I found the photo album in the bottom of one of Mom’s dresser drawers. I wonder how long she lived alone with her fear before the rest of us suspected.

Blessings,

Linda

Books Make Great Gifts | by Linda Brendle

If you’re down to those hard-to-buy-for people on your gift list, or if you’re looking for stocking stuffers, books are a great idea. Here are five suggestions:

CoverA Long and Winding Road: A Caregiver’s Tale of Life, Love, and Chaos: This memoir is the story of the hilarity and chaos that happen when four people, two of whom have Alzheimer’s, spend seven weeks traveling through sixteen states in a forty-foot motor home. It is also the story of the lives and experiences that led these four people to this particular place and time in their lives. https://www.amazon.com/Long-Winding-Road-Caregivers-Chaos/dp/1947327054

Cover MLGMom’s Long Goodbye: A Caregiver’s Tale of Alzheimer’s, Grief, and Comfort: After finishing Winding Road, many readers asked what happened next. Mom’s Long Goodbye is the rest of the story. Mom’s goodbye began with a red photo album and ended fifteen years later in a hospital bed in the Alzheimer’s wing of Southridge Village. This is her story and mine. https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1947327453

 

Final_Tatia's Tattoo Cover trim sizeTatia’s Tattoo: As a successful D.C. lawyer, Tatia’s mission in life is to destroy the sex trafficking trade in small-town America. She knows where to find it. She’s been there. Filled with tragedy, crime, redemption, and love, Tatia’s Tattoo is a story that exposes the sordid underbelly of small towns and shines a light of hope on how the evil might be defeated. https://www.amazon.com/Tatias-Tattoo-Linda-Brendle/dp/1945455829

 

Fallen Angel Final Cover FrontFallen Angel Salvage (Tatia’s Story, Book #2): Tatia and Jesse have a perfect life in Chicago. Her testimony put Eric in prison in Texas twenty years ago. How could anything go wrong? An old black van. A missing child. Tatia and Jesse race through the city streets with a band of bikers while Johnny and Jade dig through the dark web and Detectives Nelson and Martin pound on doors. Will it be enough? Or will their daughter become another statistic? https://www.amazon.com/Fallen-Angel-Salvage-Tatias-Story/dp/1945455985

KITTY'S STORY SmallerKitty’s Story: From Feral Kitten to Reigning House Cat: A four-ounce ball of black and white fur walked out from under the porch of an unsuspecting couple who had no intention of having any pets, much less a house cat. Four years later, she has grown into a beautiful, thirteen-pound semi-longhair tuxedo cat who reigns supreme over the Brendle household. https://www.amazon.com/Kittys-Story-Kitten-Reigning-Housecat/dp/173421080X

 

Merry Christmas Blessings,

Linda

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