Paid in Flesh

The streets finally caught up with me. The doctors gave me a few days, maybe a week, before my body completely shuts down.

Nobody cared. The only reason I was even in the hospital was because a Vice detective felt sorry for me and called 911.

I lay in the drafty hallway, my trembling fingers dialing my little sister's number.

I had to hit dial three times before it went through.

She is the youngest judge in the city circuit. She absolutely despises women like me, women who sell their bodies to survive.

But she does not know that every single penny that put her through law school was earned on my back.

The line connected. I wanted to tell her that her big sister would not be an embarrassment to her anymore.

But old habits die hard. The words that came out of my mouth were completely different.

"Hey, little sis. I am a bit tight on cash. Care to toss a few bucks my way?"

A cold, mocking scoff echoed through the receiver.

"You are not dead yet? What do you need money for, an urn?"

I laughed so hard that tears and snot streamed down my face.

My sister was always the pragmatic one. She even figured out I would need someone to cover my funeral costs.

The amount she would probably send could buy me a gold-plated one. What a way to go out.

A second later, my phone buzzed with a bank notification. Three thousand dollars.

The memo attached to the transfer read: Buy your urn and stay the hell away from me.

I stared at the screen and let out a genuine chuckle.

A young nurse nudged my shoulder, looking annoyed.

"What is so funny? Go pay your bill. You are making the whole hallway smell."

I pressed the phone against my chest.

"Honey, this is the smell of money. You just do not get it."

Right after I paid the hospital fees, Marcus walked in. He was the detective from Metro Vice.

He tossed a warm foil-wrapped deli sandwich onto my lap.

"Roxy, where is your family?"

I took a massive bite, speaking with my mouth full.

"Dead to me."

"Thanks for this, by the way. Have not eaten in two days. This hits the spot."

Marcus furrowed his brow, looking irritated. "I heard that phone call."

"Was that your sister?"

I flashed him a bright, greasy grin.

"That was my creditor."

"You have no idea. I owe her so much, I could not pay it back if I worked ten lifetimes as a dog."

Marcus clearly did not buy it. His eyes drifted down to my badly infected, bruised legs.

"The doctor said you need a family member to sign off on the surgery, or they cannot save that leg."

I swallowed the last bite of the sandwich.

"Then let them chop it off. It is not like I need to spread my legs for business anymore anyway."

Marcus choked on his breath, his face turning a deep shade of red.

"Roxy, I read your file. You came from a decent home. You had good grades."

"How the hell did you end up in the gutter like this?"

"You are a human being. Have some damn self-respect!"

I gave him a playful wink. "Detective, if you feel that bad for me, why do not you become a patron? Help a girl make a living."

Fifteen years ago, when I willingly walked into that cheap neon-lit motel to scrape together Sophie's tuition, my self-respect was the first thing I left at the door.

A bitter laugh scraped my throat.

"Look, Officer, with the state my body is in right now, I probably could not even service you right. Just do me a favor and give me a cigarette."

Marcus let out a heavy sigh, pulled out a pack, and lit one for me.

Through the curling gray smoke, I narrowed my eyes.

I thought about Sophie when she was little.

She did not hate me back then.

She used to wear her hair in two messy braids, following me everywhere like a shadow.

She would look up at me with her big, innocent eyes and say, "Roxy, when I grow up and make lots of money, I will make sure you get to eat a huge meal every single day. And I will never let anyone hit you again."

Well, she grew up.

She made her money.

And she bought me a coffin.

I smiled, feeling completely hollow.

"It is fine."

"My little sis keeps her promises."

My phone buzzed again. A text from Sophie.

[Do not ever call me again. I have a massive trial tomorrow. Stop making me feel sick to my stomach.]

I stared at the glowing letters, my fingers shaking as I typed a reply.

[You got it, Judge. Wishing you a bright and shiny future.]

I hit send. Then I transferred the three grand to my checking account and permanently blocked her number.

I blew a smoke ring toward Marcus. "Detective, I am not fixing the leg."

"Just do me one last favor. When I kick the bucket, cremate me and dump the ashes in whatever trash can is closest."

"Just do not tell my sister. She thinks I am dirty."

Clutching a plastic bag of painkillers, I limped my way to the steps of the District Courthouse.

I just wanted to see Sophie one last time.

I huddled behind a bus stop across the street, shivering in the morning chill.

Just one look, I told myself. Then I will find a quiet corner to crawl into and wait for the end.

Just as the sky began to turn a pale gray, a sleek black Mercedes pulled up to the courthouse steps.

Sophie stepped out.

She looked stunning. Cold, sharp, radiating an untouchable arrogance.

The man stepping out behind her screamed old money and elite education.

He thoughtfully placed a hand over the car door frame to protect her head, a soft, doting smile on his face.

"Take it easy in court today, babe. I will come pick you up tonight."

Sophie gave him a sweet, genuine smile.

"They look perfect together," I muttered to myself.

I drank in the sight of her profile, greedy for every detail.

This was the life I bought for her.

Clean. Respectable. Loved.

She would never have to be like me, pinned under sweaty strangers in cheap motels for a handful of cash, forcing a smile and telling them they were the best she ever had.

I was staring so hard I completely forgot where I was standing, and my bad leg gave out. I stumbled out from behind the glass partition.

"Who is there?"

The man's voice was sharp with instant suspicion. He immediately stepped in front of Sophie, shielding her.

"Come out! Stop hiding!"

I panicked, desperately pulling my dirty jacket collar up to hide my face.

"Sorry... just passing through, just walking by."

The man marched over and his polished leather shoe stomped down hard on my hand.

"Ah! Damn it!"

I could not hold back the scream.

"Get off, I am not trying to do anything!"

He pulled his foot back with a look of utter disgust. "Where did you crawl out of? Peeping around here at this hour?"

I kept my head glued to the pavement.

"Let it go, Preston. Do not waste your breath on trash like that."

It was Sophie.

"We are running late."

She did not recognize me. Thank God.

I was just about to drag myself away when I felt her gaze burn into the back of my neck.

"Your voice... sounds familiar."

The air in the street instantly turned to ice.

"Roxy?"

Her voice spiked an octave.

"Look up at me."

I froze. Every muscle in my broken body began to violently shake.

"I said look at me!"

The moment Sophie saw my face, the shock in her eyes morphed into absolute venom.

"It is you."

Her face flushed a deep, furious red.

"You actually have the nerve to show your face here?"

"What do you want? Come to extort me in person?"

She fired the questions like bullets, every single syllable ripping through my chest.

Preston looked completely lost. He glanced between Sophie's furious face and my pathetic form on the ground.

"Babe, who is this? Is this your sister?"

Sophie took a sharp breath and took a deliberate half-step backward.

"No."

"I do not have a sister like her."

Her voice was like shattered glass.

"She is just a stray mutt my father picked up off the street."

I dragged myself up from the concrete, letting out a dry, rattling laugh.

"The Judge is right."

"I am just a mutt."

I brushed the grime off my ripped jeans.

"I am just passing through. Leaving right now."

I needed to get away before she could smell the stench of decay on my clothes.

"Stop right there!"

Sophie closed the distance in three strides, blocking my path.

"Do not think I do not know what you are playing at, Roxy."

"You begged for money last night, and today you are stalking my workplace."

"You think because I am a judge, I am afraid of a scandal? You think you have leverage over me?"

She unzipped her designer purse and yanked out a wad of cash.

Smack.

She slapped the bills directly across my face.

"Take it and get out of my sight!"

"If I ever catch you within five hundred yards of me again, I am calling the cops!"

"I will have you locked up for extortion and harassment!"

I slowly crouched down and picked up the scattered bills from the dirty pavement.

Three hundred bucks.

Add that to the three grand from last night, and I could live like a queen for the few days I had left.

I shoved the money deep into my pocket and gave Sophie the most pathetic, obsequious smile I could muster.

"You have a busy day, Your Honor. I will not get in your way."

"Wishing you two... a very happy life together."

I turned my back on them and limped away as fast as my ruined leg could manage.

Behind me, Sophie's voice dripped with raw disgust.

"Absolutely hopeless."

"Trash belongs in the trash."

I ducked into a narrow, piss-smelling alleyway and leaned heavily against a dumpster, gasping for air.

The tears I fought so hard to hold back finally broke loose.

I fished out my phone, thinking I should text Marcus and tell him to call off his wellness checks. Otherwise, the poor guy would have to scrape my corpse off the pavement somewhere, and that was just too much paperwork.

But then, a chillingly familiar voice echoed from the mouth of the alley.

"Well, well, if it is not my favorite, dutiful daughter."

The sound of that voice made my blood turn to ice.

I slowly turned my head.

It was my father, Frank.

His face was bloated, lined with years of cheap liquor and bad bets.

"Heard you are finally dying, kid?"

"Sophie sent you an allowance, right? Cough it up. I need it."

He advanced on me, his eyes gleaming with pure greed.

"Hand it over."

He demanded it like it was his divine right.

"That is my pension money from Sophie. You are about to drop dead anyway, what do you need cash for?"

I clamped my hands fiercely over my pockets.

"Back off!"

"You will not get another cent from me, Frank! This is my money for my painkillers!"

Frank let out a raspy sneer and flicked his cigarette butt at my feet.

"Painkillers? Look at you, you are rotting from the inside out. What is there left to save?"

"Just give me the cash. I will hit the tables, win it back double, and maybe I will buy you a decent plot of dirt to rot in."

He lunged at me, tearing at my coat.

I fought back like a cornered animal. I scratched, I bit, I kicked wildly.

But he was heavier. He drove his heavy boot right into my stomach.

The white-hot agony instantly drained every ounce of fight out of me. I curled into a tight, trembling ball on the filthy ground.

Frank dug his filthy hands into my pockets and yanked out the cash.

A massive, rotten grin spread across his face.

"That is a good girl."

"Listen to me. You were born to be nothing but a dirty mattress."

"Your job was to pave the way for your sister and buy your old man a drink."

"That is your destiny, kid. Better learn to accept it."

Before he left, Frank spat a thick wad of phlegm onto my jacket.

"Useless trash. Do not die in public, find a hole somewhere."

I lay there, broken and bleeding, staring up at the thin sliver of gray sky between the brick buildings.

Screw destiny.

I refuse to accept it.

I am going back to Sophie.

I am going to look her in the eyes and tell her the truth. I am going to tell her that the money that bought her textbooks, paid her rent, and put her in those tailored suits did not come from Frank's hardworking hands.

It came from me. From the hundreds of times I lay on my back in the dark so she could walk in the light.

I dragged my shattered body back to the courthouse steps.

When the security guards tried to chase me off, I screamed, cried, and caused a massive scene, shouting that I was the Judge's sister.

Half an hour later, Sophie marched out the doors.

There was pure murder in her eyes.

"Roxy, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Look at yourself!"

"Are you not ashamed? Stop ruining my life!"

She hissed the words, terrified her colleagues inside might hear.

I looked at her perfectly manicured face, the tears streaming down my own bruised cheeks.

"Sophie, I need to tell you something."

"About Dad. About where all that money came from..."

"Shut your mouth!"

Sophie glared at me like I was a diseased rat.

"Do not you dare bring up Dad! You do not have the right to even say his name!"

"Dad worked construction in the dead of winter, breaking his back just to pay for my tuition! He ruined his spine for me!"

"He survived on two pieces of cheap bread a day just so I could buy law books!"

"And what did you do?"

"You were out whoring yourself, hooking up with every scumbag on the block! What did you ever do for this family?!"

I felt the breath leave my lungs.

I remembered standing outside the motel in the freezing snow, my hands covered in bleeding chilblains, trying to flag down cars.

"Did Dad tell you that?"

My voice was barely a whisper.

"Does he even need to?"

Sophie let out a harsh, mocking laugh.

"Every time he sent me a check, he told me it was his blood, sweat, and tears."

"He told me you were out living the high life, draped in cheap gold, not giving a damn about us."

"Roxy, how can you be this shameless?"

"Now that you are sick and broke, you suddenly remember you have a family?"

"Remembered you have a sister you can leech off of?"

I opened my mouth to explain.

But my throat locked up. A massive, suffocating weight crushed my chest, and I could not form a single word.

Frank suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

He rushed over and positioned himself squarely between me and Sophie.

"Sophie, baby! Do not listen to a word she says!"

"Is this con artist trying to shake you down again?"

"Go back inside! Do not let her toxic garbage ruin your day!"

Frank turned his head and shot me a look of pure, unadulterated malice.

He slipped a switchblade out of his pocket, holding it down by his hip where Sophie could not see, and subtly aimed the point at my stomach.

He mouthed the words silently: Say a word, and I will gut you.

I watched as Sophie gently touched Frank's arm, her voice softening completely.

"Dad, are you okay? Did she hurt you?"

"I am fine, sweetheart. Your old man is tough."

Frank put on a flawless performance of a humble, hardworking father.

"Roxy, I know life has been hard on you, but you cannot drag your sister down into the mud with you."

"She is a respected woman now."

"All those dirty things you did... I kept them a secret to protect you."

"How can you bite the hand that feeds you?"

Watching this sickening display of a loving father and a devoted daughter, the last shred of warmth in my heart turned to ash.

I reached inside my torn jacket.

I pulled out a thick, weathered stack of papers. Fifteen years of Western Union receipts, bank slips, and the letters I had secretly written to Sophie but never mailed.

"Sophie... just take this..."

I offered it to her.

But before she could even raise her hand, Frank snatched the bundle away.

"What kind of infected trash is this? Do not touch her things!"

Without even glancing at the papers, he ripped them to shreds, tossing the pieces into the wind.

"Dad! No, that is"

I lunged forward, desperately trying to catch the falling pieces.

Frank swung his arm in a vicious backhand, striking me across the jaw.

I collapsed backward, my head smacking hard against the concrete.

Sophie just frowned, looking completely exhausted.

"Are you done throwing your tantrum, Roxy?"

Her voice was devoid of all emotion.

"If you are done, then go die."

"Stay far away from me."

"The fact that you are even breathing the same air as me is an insult."

I lay on the freezing ground, staring up at the absolute resolve in my sister's eyes.

"Okay."

I whispered the word to the wind.

"If you really want me dead that badly."

"I will go die somewhere far away."