Page 10 of The Collector
The nerve of this asshole. Such a pig. What is it with men anyway? Did they think that just because they had a penis, they were entitled to say anything that rolled around in their thick skulls?
Mynx rolled her eyes and kept walking, avoiding saying what she really thought about him and his offer. "See you tomorrow, Evan."
Fat raindrops began pelting her a few steps into the brief walk. With her purse clutched tightly, she navigated the slick path.Her black, six-inch-heeled boots made her movements clumsy as she splashed through water-filled potholes.
Well, is definitely my kind of luck?
The rain was the perfect addition to her already dreadful day. At least it was washing away some of the filth that clung to her skin, like Evan's touch. She shivered at the thought.
She ended the unsteady dash at her Nova.
Lockland Bluffs—one of Culver City's more affluent neighborhoods—was generally considered safe. Being escorted to their cars by the bouncers after shifts was Jimmy's way of offering the girls security without it affecting his bottom line.
Mynx scoffed at the arrangement.God forbid he hire actual trained professionals.The thought of Evan protecting her against a serial killer made her want to laugh.
Cover Girls was one of the most upscale clubs in the city to work for. Jimmy had strict rules: no backroom blow jobs, no sex for money. Do everything, he asked when he asked. He regarded his dancers as artists and expected them to act as such. Anyone suspected of violating Jimmy's rules was fired immediately. Which was why she was so exhausted; she'd been forced to work a double tonight. She needed the job and the money.
Thank God no one witnessed me letting my guard down with the masked stranger two weeks ago because I'd be out on my ass in an instant if they had.
She was soaked when she pried the door of her run-down Nova open. The car resembled a trash can on wheels, with its worn, matte primer-gray exterior marred by numerous dents. The Nova was more than just a vehicle; it was one of the last real connections she had to her grandfather. Giving her the car was the last decent thing her father had done for her, and she suspected it was more about convenience than sentiment.
Owning it was bittersweet—a reminder of the last cherished moments she had with him. He had been kind and thoughtful,she couldn't help but think life would be much easier for her and her mother if he were still around. She just couldn't bring herself to get rid of it.
The engine roared to life; its rich purr soothed her frayed nerves. Mynx locked the doors and glanced outside, cranking the defrost to full blast, feeling the day's tension beginning to melt away. The windows fogged up from the cool rain meeting the warm night air, it would take a moment for them to clear. The heat made the car feel like a sauna; thick moisture clung to her skin uncomfortably.
She caught her reflection in the rearview mirror; streaks of black eyeliner ran down her cheeks. She reached into the center console, grabbed some paper napkins, and wiped her face clean. Then she used the crumpled napkins to wipe at the windshield, hoping to clear it more quickly.
"No dice," she muttered, tossing them to the floorboard with a sigh.
She rested her head in her hand, eyes heavy. If she closed them for more than a second, she'd be gone. Sleep wasn't rest anymore. It was an escape. Instead, she lifted her head, rolled her neck, trying to coax the tension out of her shoulders.
It didn't help much. But it was something. And lately, something had to be enough.
Saturdays were always the busiest nights of the week and today was no exception. One of the day-shift girls, Sugar, had texted Jimmy this morning to say she couldn't make it. As a result, she had to cover a double shift. He had pulled his usual "I'll fire you" card, threatening her job if she didn't show up for the sixteen-hour shift. It was infuriating; he knew better than anyone how much she needed the job.
At least Jimmy let me leave first tonight.
Mynx's phone buzzed. Quinn. Her best friend from high school. It was too late for casual calls. Still, she answered.
"Hey girl," Mynx said, trying to sound light. "What have you been up to? Don't you have class tomorrow?"
"Hey, Mynxie. I'm good. I ran into Cyndi at the grocery store tonight. She mentioned your mom's not doing well." A pause. "I know it's been a minute. I just wanted to check in. See how you're holding up, see if maybe you're coming back to school soon?"
Mynx had been a full-time student at Culver City University, set to graduate in May. But life had other plans. Dropping out and becoming a dancer was the only way to keep the bills paid.
Mynx swallowed before answering. "I wish I could say yes. But you're right—Mom's not doing well, she's fighting stage four lung cancer. We're past the point of treatment now. Just trying to keep her comfortable."
"Oh, Mynx… I'm so sorry. If there's anything I can do, please don't hesitate to call me. I love your mom. She was like a second mother to me growing up."
Mynx took a breath, pushing back the tears. "I will. She loves you, too, Quinn. Don't be a stranger—come by sometime."
Quinn hesitated. "My dad said he saw your father down at the track last week. Said he didn't look that great either. Is he sick, too? I can only imagine how you must feel right now. Are you okay?"
"I'm managing," Mynx said quietly. "It's been rough. As for my dad… I wouldn't know. His drinking and gambling have been out of control for a while. He left not long after Mom's diagnosis. In my heart, I want to believe he left to find money for her bills. But honestly? We haven't seen him in months."
"That's awful. I don't know how you're managing it all alone," Quinn said, her laugh soft, trying to ease the weight between them. "I can barely make it to class on time."
Mynx smiled faintly, but her voice stayed steady. "Cyndi's been the spine of the house while I'm working. She handlesappointments and medications, keeping Mom well cared for while I work double shifts to cover our bills. If she hadn't stepped up, I'd be drowning. I thank God for her every single day."
