The Sex Trade

Part 4 - Big Bad Brad

"Mum, I need to see you," I say in a text as I roll over in bed.

It's been a day since I tore up Marty's most prized possessions. I'm starting to worry that he might have taken his revenge out on Mum, and that's why she's not returning any of my calls. Until she replies, that is.

"I'm busy, Mads. Talk later."

"Mum, it's important."

"So is my life."

"Mum!"

She calls back an hour later.

"What's up?" she snaps.

"Can we meet for coffee?"

"Not at the moment. I'm really busy," she says with someone chatting to her in the background.

"It's about Marty," I say as I get up and pace around the room.

"You're not in his good books after what you did to his bike."

"What about what he did to me?"

"What did he do to you, Mads?" she says through a drawn out sigh.

"He raped me," I yell.

"I don't think so. Marty said you came onto him, that you got naked and tried to seduce him in your bed. He had to fight you off."

"That's not how it happened! I was with Zak and—"

"Mads, we all know you'll say anything to get your way."

I'm shocked. I don't know what to say to her.

"You need to stop being so needy. A good woman always stands quietly at the back of a room."

I scream down the line, then hang up the phone.

"You OK in there?" Sarah calls from the kitchen.

I ignore her and cry into my pillow until I fall back asleep.

"Maddie, time to wake up. Brad's just run to Pancho's to pick up some Mexican, and I've made margaritas," Sarah says, standing in my doorway. "We're gonna watch your favourite movie, American Psycho."

"I just wanna die," I say, being dramatic.

"You know what will help with that? This cocktail," she sings, trying her best to suck me in.

I flick the sheets back and stare at miss chirpy. She's holding two highball glasses loaded with a bright green slushy mix.

"They look gross."

"They're delicious, Madison. I'm already on my second."

"Fine. But I need a shower first."

"OK—but I'm not waiting for you," Sarah says as she bounces off.

"I'm not waiting for you either," I parrot.

As I shave my legs in the shower, I think about how much of a bitch Mum is. She didn't even ask for my side of the story.

"I'm your bloody daughter," I mumble to myself as I catch the skin on my leg with the razer. "I'm your blood. You got blind faith in Marty, but none in me. Fuck you, Mum. I'm done."

I settle down as I towel off and start thinking about Brad and Sarah and what I witnessed yesterday. I haven't seen Brad since then as I've been held up in bed. Why is my heart racing? I must be nervous about seeing them. But seriously, who cares if I was watching, it's a thing. What Brad did was far more incriminating. He practically invited me to sleep with him.

I pull on my favourite laced g-string and bra, then slip into a long sleeveless dress and ugg boots. I spray myself with Jadore and brush through my hair as I inspect the blackening bruise on my face.