Wicked Love

something into her cell. She’s another young one, I can see that already.
“Hello,” I call out softly, startling her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She eyes me cautiously, “So what’s your theme?” she asks looking at my stupid costume, “Man, this gig just keeps getting weirder.”
“Yeah, tell me about it,” I reply, grabbing the opportunity of allowing her to think I’m on staff as well since I’m now clued in. “I tell you, it’s my first party and I’m not sure I can hang with it.”
She steps into the bathroom, switching on the light. “Yeah, well I felt that way too when I had my first ‘party gig.’ But you’ll get used to it,” she continues, pulling a make-up bag out of her backpack. “At least Dan supplies the costumes they end up destroying with their debauchery.” She shakes her head and then starts applying make-up. “I’ve been doing this shit now for two years. Can’t beat the money, and hey, the scars usually heal up if you use the right antibiotic cream.”
“Two years?” I question.
She’s putting mascara on her lashes. “Yep. Almost three actually. I was fifteen when I got hired on at The Sanctuary. The Glory Hole. That’s where all the young ones start out. You done your time there?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m over eighteen,” I reply.
“Lucky you then. Kandy won’t let us do the better studios until we’re eighteen. Thank fuck I’m almost there.”
Dan? Kandy?
“Umm, I’m Carson by the way.”
“Hey Carson, I’m Diane. Listen, don’t want to be rude, but I’ve got to get into costume before Dan comes looking for me. You done for the night?”
“Umm . . . yeah, I’m finished. I only had to observe this time. Hey, it was nice meeting you Diane. I’ll probably be seeing you around.”
“Later,” she replies, pulling off her shirt.
I close the bathroom door behind me and head back out. I don’t want to go into the main room again, but I need to let Shelby know I’m leaving. When I get back out there, she’s nowhere to be seen. It seems as if things have quieted down a bit. People are mingling and getting high again. It dawns on me they’re taking a break between shows.
I spot the Marquis standing near the front door, peering outside. “Excuse me,” I start, “I’m looking for my friend, Shelby--have you seen her?”
“Who?” he asks, feigning ignorance.
“O,” I correct, “Black leather, sucking your dick the last time I saw her.”
“She’s upstairs I presume, with Burba and Owletta. I’m sure they won’t mind if you join them,” he finishes with a sneer. “Or stay with me, your choice.”
“Umm . . . I think I’ll wait on the porch for her. Would you let her know Alice is waiting for a ride home?”
“Si vous voulez que je livre ce message, vous devez le demander en français,” he replies, being a jerk.
He wants me to make the request in French.
So I comply with the bastard. “Pourriez-vous, s’il vous plaît, informer ma copine ‘O’ que je l’attends dehors sur la terrasse, pour qu’elle me ramène chez moi dès qu’elle redescend?” I respond.
“Certainement, Mademoiselle Alice.”
He agrees. Eye roll.
It’s twenty minutes later when Shelby steps outside, and she’s now dressed differently.
“Carson,” she snaps, “You’re gonna have to Uber it back to your dorm. I’m sticking around for awhile.”
Now I’m puzzled for sure. “What’s going on, Shelby?”
She looks nervous; definitely on edge.
“Listen,” she says quietly as if she’s afraid somebody’s listening, “You need to get out of here. You do realize this place is under surveillance, right?”
I look around quickly, presuming she’s referring to law enforcement, which I seriously hope is the reality. “Well, damn, I sure hope so,” I reply. “Shelby are you working these parties now?”
“I pick up some extra bucks when I can. It’s not a regular thing.”
“Look,” I reply, “That is totally your business, but I’ve got to let you know, I found out these parties and The Sanctuary are sex trafficking with minors. Did you know that? That girl who was dressed as that slave, and another one named Diane who I saw coming in through the back - they’re both underage! Diane was recruited at age fifteen for Chrissake!”
Her face turns to stone. “Leave it alone, Carson,” she warns. “You don’t want to get involved with this. I’m already in trouble for bringing you here.”
“What?” I ask, furrowing my brows in confusion.
“The owners know you were talking to them. This place is always under surveillance. There are hidden cameras everywhere. I thought you came to observe, not pull some fucking ‘Nancy Drew’ stint here. You need to leave. Now.” she hisses.
She turns her back to go back inside. “Wait, Shelby, I don’t even know what the address is here. How the hell can I call an Uber?”
“That’s your problem,” she snaps. “But leave, and leave now. You don’t know who you’re messing with here.”
Naturally, I have to get the last word in because she’s totally pissed me off, and in a way, I feel she used me to somehow join this fucked-up sex cult. “Don’t think I won’t go to the authorities, Shelby. Now you’ve been warned.”
The door slams as she goes back inside. I pull my cell from the pocket of the white apron that is part of my Alice in Wonderland costume.
I check the number on the house, and then walk a half-block down so that I can get the street name. Once I do, I click on my Uber link and schedule a car. Lovely. My wait time is twenty-five minutes. The city is busy on a late weekend night what with the drinkers and partiers all out for Halloween celebrations.
It’s colder than hell out here. I walk back down the block, and decide to sit on the concrete steps leading up to the house next door to the party house. Yeah, Shelby has successfully put the fear in me. I look up at the house and notice the downstairs windows are boarded up. Apparently