I had rented a car and driven to Pasadena California. Darren, a guy I had met at club Rio with Nicky before her dad sent me to the shelter, had come to Las Vegas again with a group of his friends. We had spent a few nights together the first time we met in Las Vegas and another weekend a few months later I flew to Cincinnati after I had made $12000 in one night for doing an all nighter with a high roller. This was my third time seeing Darren and after the second night, his boys didn't want me around. They knew what it was that I did and thought I was not good to have around. Darren wanted me to stay, but was sharing a room with one of the other guys and had to respect their wishes. He wanted to spend more time with me, but came with a group of guys and they wanted to stick together. I was sent away.
With tears in my eyes and a broken heart, I decided to go see one of my regulars in Pasadena. I was distraught. I had a crush on Darren and enjoyed his company. I hadn't gotten to the level of communication with him where I felt safe telling him what it was that I did in Vegas, which hurt him to find out the way he did. Another secret that damaged another relationship. I was speeding through the mountains carelessly. I was crying and upset that I had caused Darren embarrassment and pain.
It was late and the road was winding through the mountains. It was fairly cold and fog had flooded the highway, yet I didn't slow down. If I drove off of a cliff I didn't care anymore. I was tired of Ronnie destroying my life. This is not who I wanted to be and escaping my reality seemed entirely impossible. The facts were all to plain to see. I was a whore and that label comes with a lot of ignorance and assumptions. People would automatically assume that I was diseased or a cheater. Men would think that I would be scantily clad when I was in public with them and bring too much attention and drama in their lives. I was the type of girl you fucked, not the type to bring home to mom. The label hurt more than the the bruises Ronnie would leave on me. The ignorance scarred deeper than the words he would say that cut like knives in my heart.
No one really knew me and that was a final straw for me. I wanted to die. It seemed the only way out of this situation and if it was here, on this highway, tonight, I was okay with that. I got the car up to 100 miles an hour on this road that I should have been doing 50 on. The car screeched as I hit corners. The tears continued to pour down my face and I could barely see five feet in front of me. I yelled out to God "take me now as I am, because I can no longer live this life!" Suddenly, the engine shut down and the arm on the speedometer dropped below 50 like someone had stepped on the break. As the car continued decelerating I shifted into neutral and attempted to restart the engine. When that failed the second time, I looked up to see the tail end of a trailer truck through the fog. I swerved to the right and stepped on the break.
I paused for a moment to catch my breath and a few minutes later the fog had cleared away. I put the car in park and realized I was on the edge of a cliff. I was relieved. I came face to face with death and had a chance to actually die and I was glad to be alive. "Very funny! You just had to prove me wrong didn't you?" God knew I wasn't really ready to leave the world and that I just needed out of the life I was being forced to live.
I spent a few days in Pasadena with a regular client who paid me just enough money to take back to Seattle with me. I drove back to Vegas exhausted. He had taken me all over Los Angeles and to Disney Land. When I arrived back at my hotel Ronnie was asleep in my bed. Part of me wanted to hit him over the head with my skillet and murder him, but the forgiving part of my nature took over and sat timidly on the couch waiting for the beating that was sure to come. I laid out the money on the coffee table, hoping that would distract his anger. I put $11,000 on the table thinking the extra couple of grand would subdue him.
When he woke and realized I was in the room I could feel his rage fill the room. He remained silent. There were no questions. Just an evil glare straight into my eyes. Like a submissive animal I looked down to the ground and waited for the money to cut his stare. I didn't say anything to him and I was in shock that he hadn't begun questioning me yet. Usually, he would have already been beating me, but he was still in the bed looking at me like he wasn't sure what he wanted to do to me. I had started feeling more intimidated than usual because it was like his mind was running rabid with ideas of how he should torture me for not being there when he arrived.
"Make me some food." "What do you want?" "I don't give a fuck, just make me some food!" "There isn't much here, should I go to the store?" "No. Make me something that is here."
I fixed him some eggs and turkey bacon with toast. He sat and watched TV as I prepared the food for him. When I brought him his plate he didn't even look at me. He just took the plate from my hands and focused on the television. I was so nervous about what was to come. Ronnie had never behaved in this manner before and it made me think he was going to kill me. When he was done eating he told me to clear his plate and do the dishes. As I was standing in the kitchen doing the dishes, I kept looking over my shoulder to see where he was. He realized what I was doing and had started mocking me and saying that he had me scared. He was laughing to himself as if he enjoyed seeing me mentally tormented by what he may or may not do. I think this was all part of his plan. I stopped looking over my shoulder and felt a blow to the back of my head.
I woke up tied to all four corners of the bed. I was naked, but under the covers. I couldn't tell if Ronnie was in the room or not and I wasn't about to call out to him. After hours of listening to the channel he had left on, I figured he was not in the room with me. I don't know how many hours had passed since I was doing the dishes, but six shows had played while I was laying in the bed, so at least three hours had gone by since I woke up. Eventually I fell back to sleep. When I woke the next day, there was still no sign of Ronnie. He must have intentions of leaving me here until the end of the week. I didn't know anyone that would think to come look for me, so I would have to wait until the room attendants are given orders to clean the room because my rent hadn't been paid.
I had to go to the bathroom really bad, but I couldn't free myself. I spent hours trying with no success. I finally decided to call out to see if maybe he was in the room. "Hello?" I waited to see if there would be a response. "I have to go to the bathroom. Are you there? Ronnie? I have to pee!" The pain in my bladder was immense and tears were falling from my face as I tried to hold it in. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and it all came pouring out of me. All over the bed and sheets. After an hour, the urine had started causing an itch underneath of me. I shifted as much of my body to the left as I could, but it was just not far enough to get out of the wet spot in the bed.
I was hungry, thirsty, in pain and uncomfortable. I had no idea how long Ronnie planned to leave me tied to the bed, unable to move, but I began wishing I had died on the cliff the other night. I couldn't bare to leave my daughter with this man and I couldn't live my life like this anymore. What if he had flown back to Seattle and left me there to die? This would be a horrible death. Definitely not the way I wanted to die. I began shouting and screaming, hoping the neighbors would hear me and call the police for help, but let's face it, I'm in Nevada, no one calls the cops here! I finally was able to fall asleep again, despite pissing on myself twice. All the shouting, crying and yelling had caused me to get tired and sleeping was the only way I would be able to get rid of the nagging headache I had gotten from either being hungry or crying.
Ronnie was an evil prick. I should have hit him over the head with the frying pan. I should have tied his ass to the bed. This had to be the coldest thing he had ever done to me, aside from taking our child as a hostage. Three and a half days had gone by before I heard the keys in the door. The room began smelling really bad from the urine in the bed and my mouth was white and pasty from dehydration. I could barely speak, but I was grateful I hadn't defecated on the bed. I tried calling out to whomever was trying to enter the room, but my voice was hoarse and the words barely made it past my lips. I put my head back on the pillow and closed my eyes because my vision was blurry and making me dizzy.
When I realized water was being dropped in my mouth I opened my eyes to see who it was. Ronnie was standing over me dipping a straw in a glass of water and clogging it and then putting the straw in my mouth. "Get up you nasty bitch and shower." Unfortunately, I had no energy to move. Eventually Ronnie carried me to the bathroom and dropped me in the tub. My head hit the back wall as he let my body flop. He turned the water on and let the tub fill up with water. He poured body wash into the running water to cleanse my body. All I could think was the sarcastic thought of 'gee, how considerate' and if I could keep my eyes open I would have been cutting my eyes at him for what he did.
I lay in my bed crying and shaking off the memories. I need some rest and I have got to pull myself together. I couldn't believe he had found me. I knew I needed to move and get out of the industry once and for all. So I picked up my pen and note pad and began writing Desiree a letter. I told her how concerned I was for her and that I knew about her addiction. I let her know that I would be moving out and that if she wanted to keep the place she needed to start looking for a room mate.
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