Broken Memphis (Little Memphis MC, #2)
Bijou Hunter
1
Bebe
My Family's Curse
As a little girl, I said the same word as my sister, Sabine. Another girl told us we were jinxed and we couldn't speak until someone said our name. No matter the rules of the Jinx game, the Green family's curse goes back generations.
My great-great-great grandmother went on a short holiday away from my rich great-great-great grandfather. He told Cherie he might die from missing her. Instead, during her five-day trip away, he met and fell in love with another woman. The rejected Cherie ended up on the street. No more husband, money, or home. Oh, and he insisted she take their daughter since the new wife wasn't interested in playing mommy. Cherie ended up a prostitute, training her daughter to do the same when she got old enough.
For generations, women in my family end up working on their backs. The few men in the Green clan tend to sell low-grade drugs. They always die young too. This is my family's curse.
My mom suffered from the jinx, as did my sister. They both made decent money as prostitutes. Our family might have bad luck, and none of us is any good at school, but we're born with above average looks. The girls also lack the addictive tastes of the men in the family. Without living hard on booze or drugs, we age better than you'd expect for whores.
I'm the exception. Not that I'm amazingly brave or smart. I just never liked sex enough to do it for a living. My ex-boyfriend Howie is a pimp, and he groomed me for the job. When I decided I'd rather be a maid, he decided I'd do what he said. Before he forced me into the trade, Howie was sent to prison for running a dog fighting business. Yeah, his way led to him caged like an animal, while I cleaned toilets in peace. Doesn't sound like much of a win, but I believe in celebrating whenever I can.
Howie is a horrible man, but we made a beautiful daughter. Tallulah is worth all the crap he foisted on me. At three, she already wants to read. Lula is everything to me, and I finally have a chance to make a normal life for her.
My luck began to turn around when I met Shay Thompson at the hotel where we both worked. Soon, I was friends with Darby, who is the ex-wife of the vice president of the Little Memphis Motorcycle Club. She invited Lula and me to move into her house. Within weeks, my old roommates Perri and Flora lost their pimp and decided to go straight. Now we all live at Darby's pretty cottage-style house. Even crowded, I'm happier than I've ever been.
These days, Perri works as a night clerk at the Oregon Hotel. Darby found Flora a job at a dry cleaner. We're living a clean life thanks to my fateful meeting with Shay only a few months ago.
Off work, the three of us enjoy a chilly afternoon at the park with our kids. Lula and Perri's son, Graham, are both three. Her daughter, Haley, is barely walking, while Flora's son, Orion, is knee deep in his terrible twos.
At the park, the kids hurry into different directions. I watch them, but my focus remains on Lula, who plays quietly on her own.
"Still getting used to being up early," Flora says, pulling at her black ponytail. "Living the law-and-order life isn't easy sometimes."
Perri acts as the wise one of the group. At twenty-five, she's only older than us by three years. With her very short blonde haircut, she looks so different without all the makeup she once wore. Today, she plays middle class better than Flora and me.
"I lived in that life since before I was old enough to drive. Up all night, then the kids came along and I had to juggle the days with them and the nights on the job. I gotta say I like this new life better, even if I feel weird being at the park with all these suburban broads."
Laughing behind my hand, I know how Perri feels. We're surrounded by stay-at-home moms with a few nannies in the mix. These women aren't cool chicks like Darby, with her rockabilly style. They're soccer moms with not a high school dropout in sight.
Yet this is my life now, and I'm not giving it up. I like living in a neighborhood where walking to the park isn't a death wish. My baby girl loves Darby and living in our house. Her smile makes me feel like a hero, and I refuse to fail her.
Like clockwork though, I sense the jinx of my family crowding me. Glancing around the park, I spot teenagers lingering around the edges of the park. The other moms notice them too. The matching purple Mohawks don't exactly help the freaks blend in.
I move quickly towards Lula playing in the sand. The teenagers aren't doing anything, but I'm nervous now.
"Mom," she says, showing me the sand slipping through her fingers.