Chapter 16
The room was dark and cold, as quiet as a deserted prison on a solitary island. Mara turned on her bed of lumps and tossed aside the itchy sheets, wincing at the pain from her stale bruises, now dusty and dry, making the corners of her lips and her bruised knee caps painfully stiff, not to mention the stiff muscles in her back and the throbbing pain in her head. As she turned on the bed she tumbled off of it onto the cold concrete floor, groping in the dark she found that the mattress was probably the only thing in the narrow room.
She didn’t know where she was, all she knew was that she had been moved twice. That night at the hotel, when she’d foolishly let Trent get the upper hand, she’d gotten up in a place near the highway, she was bound and lying in a corner but she could hear the sounds of vehicles zooming by, all oblivious to her distress. Two days later they’d moved her again, and foolishly she’d challenged Trent, only to be knocked out again.
Now she was here, wherever here was; she was alone, hungry, in pain and in dire need of a shower and a warm bed preferably with floral scented cotton sheets, and maybe, if she should dare; Brad would be lying next to her and he would be smiling that handsome smile of his, and his compassionate brown eyes would be looking down at her with warmth and love, like he used to before. Oh how she’d ruined everything she thought with a tired sigh.
Suddenly a door at the corner of the room was opened and light reached in, stretching into the room until it fell upon her battered figure, hunched in the corner atop the filthy mattress. Trent’s figure loomed amidst the light, casting a shadow of dread.
“Hello Mara, sleep well?”
Mara cussed at him despite herself and drew closer to the cold wall behind her. Trent chuckled smugly.
“You’ve still got that spunk that I like so much,” he flipped a switch and light filled the room.
Mara winced, squeezing her eyes against the powerful burning brightness. When she opened them again, he was sitting on the edge of the mattress, a plate with two slices of cold toast and a bottle of water lay between them. She looked at it longingly, licking her parched lips, she hadn’t realized how hungry she was, not until she found herself drooling at two slices of toasted bread that were curling at the edge like pieces of rubber.
“You really screwed me over Mara,” Trent was saying, as he took out a cigarette and stuck it between his lips.
“I really thought we had an understanding, but I guess a couple years of pampering and a little Indian attention made you all soft and sentimental,” he shook his head and chuckled, leaning forward to light his cigarette on the match he’d drawn.
“Do you have to smoke that?”
Trent turned to look at her, took a long drag then exhaled a thick cloud of smoke; Mara gagged and covered her nose and mouth with her blouse.
“Don’t worry dear, won’t kill me for at least another… twenty years,” he said with a diabolic smile.
Mara glared at him, “pity,” she muttered, her voice hoarse and strained.
“That’s enough time for me to enjoy the bounty of this operation and…” he paused and perused her with hungry daring eyes, “…if you’re lucky, what’s left of you.”
“You bastard!”
Trent howled with laughter, throwing his head back and hooting with annoying terrifying tone of a jackal. He got up and blew out another puff of smoke, still chuckling.
“You remember what they used to call me back in the day?”
All Mara could do was glare at him.
“The guys used to call me the coyote, wanna know why? Because I was so hilariously evil!” and he reached into his pocket and took out his cellular, lifting it toward her.
“What are you doing?”
“Don’t you wanna say something to your husband, a good old fashioned, ‘help me!” would do,” and he crowed again.
“You bastard,you won’t get away with this!”
He shrugged and flipped the phone shut, “that could work too,” and he sauntered to the door.
“Should I leave the light on …” he pressed his finger to his chin in mock thoughtfulness, “nah don’t think so… every penny counts,” and with that he switched off the light, enveloping Mara in darkness once more.
It was summer. Hot and bright, the sweltering heat overwhelmed Mara as well as the realization that she would never be an actress, she just wasn’t as good at it as she thought she was. According to her last rejection, she had the face and the body but the ability to land a role as a lead actress with any hope of a future in the acting business was absent. She’d gone home that night to her partially empty apartment that was falling apart around her and she cried. It wasn’t the fact that she was a terrible actress that saddened her – she’d suspected that for some time now, but she wasn’t going to give her father the satisfaction of being right – it was knowing that she was broke, running low on supplies from her last waitress job and very tired, tired of walking, or hoping, of lying and to some extent of working dead end jobs with no hope for advancement. It was around this time that she met Trent, a tall, thin man with a face like a hawk, not in the least bit handsome nor approachable. But she didn’t have to approach him; he joined her at her table at a restaurant she was hoping to get a job at and though she was initially annoyed at his boldness, she soon warmed up to him. She was surprised at how self assured he was, and he had such a way with words, but it wasn’t that that attracted her; it was the offer he brought with him.
She was hurrying away from the restaurant and from Trent, he proved himself to be alright but she wasn’t in any position to think about guys and relationships now. As she turned the bend she started to relax and slow her pace and that’s when she noticed him. He was leaning against an iron pole, with a smirk and a cigarette dangling from the corner of his lips.
“Hey you,” he greeted.
Mara glanced about her nervously then forced a smile, “hi… oh wow you scared me, how did… how did you get here so fast,” she said with a dry chuckle.
Trent smiled as he moved closer to her, circling her like a vulture, “When I saw you at the restaurant you reminded me of something but I couldn’t figure out what,” he took her hand and held it in his, looking into her eyes with his snake like ones, “now I realize that you resemble a cat; cute, cuddly, you have that self assurance and sass, any woman that resembles a cat is sexy and very attractive.”
He lifted her hand to his lips and brushed them against it, Mara blushed visibly, “you turn heads Mara…and apparently you turn pockets too.”
At that Mara froze, feeling her body go cold with fear, “uh what?” she muttered, her voice trembling.
Trent lifted her hand and slid her purse from her arm, he opened it and removed a brown leather wallet, which he waved at her tauntingly, “a little too masculine for you don’t you think. Don’t worry, I won’t turn you into the authorities, as a matter of fact let me offer you a chance of a lifetime. Your beauty in addition with your… boldness…” he waved the wallet at her, “…will make a wonderful addition to my team. So, how about it?”
Mara narrowed her eyes at him, “what do you do exactly?”
Trent smiled, “let’s just say I twist the outcomes of everyday transactions,” he stepped closer to her, his tall frame appearing more daunting at such a distance, “but with you I can branch off to a whole new ball game.”
Mara swallowed hard, “would I be paid?”
“Oh yes, you’ll be paid more than any job you’ve ever had in this town, especially with this deal we’re working on. So are you in?”
“Uh… yeah sure,” she said with a smile, “yeah.”
Trent chuckled, “good, but we’ll need to see what you’re made of first” he reached into the wallet and withdrew a card, “call me tomorrow, your training begins then,” he turned to leave then paused and looked back, “and another thing, don’t you ever try to steal from me again.”
“I’m sorry I…”
But he was
gone.