“What’s this?” I looked down at the paper with confusion.

“If you’re serious about this lifestyle, go there. Tell them Reanna sent you. Xavier owes me one, but I have a feeling it won’t matter with the way you look.” Her eyes were kind, and I almost kissed her with how grateful I was that she was giving me another option.

“I have to go.” The thought that Dick might ever breathe the same air as me again propelled me to the door. I pushed it open and sucked in the fresh air.

Reanna’s words followed me out the closing door. “Good luck!”

I had a feeling I was going to need it.

Ruth was waiting for me when I got home from Pussy Willows. Avoiding her judgmental gaze, I gave her a slight wave and walked down the hall of my apartment, muttering, “Not now.”

Following the sound of giggles, I found Sophie playing with Mikey on the floor of her room. My feet took me straight to her, and my arms pulled her into me and wrapped her up tight. I breathed in the scent of little girl and strawberries, feeling the clean wash over me.

All I needed was Sophie.

The rest I’d figure out later. As long as she had everything she needed, I would make do.

Finally letting her go when she started squirming, I left the children to their dolls and headed to my room. I couldn’t shed my altered persona fast enough. The black dress ended up in a heap on the floor, and pins flew across my dresser as I hastily took them out of my hair.

Throwing on a robe, I padded into the bathroom and turned on the water in the shower as hot as I could take it. The room immediately filled with steam, and when I stepped under the spray, the heat from the water pelted my skin. It was a welcome contrast to the cold that had seeped into my bones since my time at the strip club. With a bar of soap in hand, I scrubbed at my skin to rid myself of the vestiges of Dick’s slimy touch.

When the water began to cool, I shut it off and grabbed a towel that had seen better days. It was practically threadbare, but it served its purpose. After a quick drying off, I exited the bathroom in a pair of cotton shorts and a tank top. My skin was pink and flushed, making me feel human again.

I found Ruth sitting at the table between the living room and kitchenette with a cup of tea, patiently waiting for me. Ignoring her, since I still wasn’t ready to talk about it, I rummaged in the mostly bare cupboards for something to make for dinner, seeing as how I was home earlier than I thought I’d be.

It was a futile attempt at stalling.

Slamming the cupboard when our only prospects were ramen noodles or the last of the chocolate ice cream in the freezer I had bought special for Sophie before I got fired, I blew out a frustrated breath and faced my friend.

Nothing was solved after my visit to Pussy Willows. If anything I felt more distressed than I had that morning when Sophie ate the last of the generic brand cereal, sans milk because we were out of that too.

With my head in my hands, I let defeat wash over me. I hadn’t a clue what to do next. The tears that streamed down my face were silent, but Ruth still knew they were there when my body bucked on a sob.

“Alyssa,” she cooed softly in my ears as she wrapped her arms around me and rocked my body back and forth. “It’s okay to cry.”

“No, it’s not.” I sniffled and buried my head in her neck.

As we stood there, I ate up her motherly affection, needing it more than ever before. It was times like these when I was beaten down and alone that I missed my mother and father the most. I often imagined what they would say or do to help me whenever I was in a bind. That particular wound of losing one’s parents never really healed. It was always open and cut close to the bone whenever I was this helpless.

My sniffles died down with the exhaustion that took over my body. Ruth gave my back one final rub before stepping away and leaving me feeling bereft. She didn’t go far, though. Her hand in mine, she led me to the table, saying, “Tell me what happened.”

I collapsed into a chair, and with my elbow resting on the table and my chin propped up in my hand, I recounted the sad events that had taken place that afternoon at Pussy Willows. When I got to the part where Dick accosted me, Ruth’s eyes hardened and her mouth pressed into a thin line. It made me feel a little better knowing someone would have that kind of reaction for me. It wasn’t as if I had any family left to take my back.

“You aren’t going to that place,” Ruth declared after I told her about the address Reanna had given me.

“I have no choice,” I argued.

While I had never heard of The Den, I found it hard to believe that Reanna would send me there if it weren't any better than Pussy Willows.

Although I had to admit, the name did conjure up images of a lion’s den, and that sent chills up my spine. I most definitely did not want to become a tasty morsel being circled by hungry lions.

As if on cue, my stomach growled and twisted painfully—sounding just like a lion or a bear. Other than a package of peanuts I found at the bottom of my purse, I hadn’t eaten anything in the last two days. The lightheadedness that accompanied the lack of food was making it hard to focus. On the bright side, it was becoming easier to ignore the pangs of hunger.

“Come to my place tonight. I’ve got some gumbo in the fridge I can heat up for us and the kids can have grilled cheese and tomato soup.” Ruth stood from the table, giving me no chance to deflect the invitation. I hated feeling like a charity case, and it was looking more and more likely that was all I was ever going to be. “Let’s go, kids!”

At her shout, Mikey and Sophie came rushing into the room completely oblivious to the tension that still lingered in the air from our earlier conversation.

“Dinner is at my place tonight. Put your shoes on and hold hands while we walk downstairs,” she instructed, and not so surprisingly the kids did as they were told. There was food to be had after all.

Ruth led the way to her apartment, which was almost directly below mine, with the rambunctious duo close behind. I followed at a more sedate pace after changing my clothes. For as grateful as I was for the free meal, I wasn’t looking forward to continuing our conversation about The Den. Ruth wasn’t going to let it go. I knew that much. And while her worry made me feel cared for, she couldn’t relate. She wasn’t a single mother without a job. Sure, she and her late husband had struggled over the years, but it had never been as dire as it was for me at that moment. With just enough money for rent, utilities and food were a luxury I wasn’t sure I’d be able to afford from one day to the next.

The gumbo Ruth served was delicious, and I found myself scarfing it up. I even went back for seconds and considered taking thirds. I stopped after two helpings, though, because by the time I set the spoon down, my stomach was protesting from being so full. I sat back in the chair and placed a hand on my bloated belly, praying I wasn’t going to be sick.

“There’s some left if you want more,” Ruth offered.

“I couldn’t. Really,” I assured her. There was no way any more food was going to fit into my body right then. Not unless I wanted to explode.

“Then you should take it home.” She gave me a stern look that said if I knew what was best for me I wouldn’t argue. So I didn’t.

“Thank you,” I said softly and looked down at the linoleum to hide how her kindness affected me.

I hated how easily and frequently I had been breaking into tears lately. And feeling weak and vulnerable always followed closely on its heels. It was a set of emotions I loathed, but unfortunately was becoming accustomed to.

“Alyssa—” she started, and I knew a lecture was coming.