Free Mattress Actress by Annika Cleeve Page A

loud.
    Rozario was so startled that he took his hands off me and held them in the air. ‘Please don’t scream,’ he said in his thick Italian accent. He grabbed the key from his pocket, then with the sickest smirk you have ever seen placed the key down his pants. ‘I heard you come in, do you think I’m fucking deaf? I locked the deadbolt, now you can’t get out.’
    ‘Open the fucking deadbolt, you lecherous old prick,’ I yelled.
    ‘Come and get it with your mouth, whore, and while you’re down there, suck my cock.’
    I snapped, completely lost the plot. I picked up a bottle of red wine from on top of the bookshelf, smashed it against the wall near Rozario’s head and waved it in his face.
    ‘Now open the fucking door before I cut your prick off!’ I yelled.
    He got the message that I was deadly serious and opened the door as fast as he could, and there was a definite quiver in his voice now. Not that I could understand what he was saying, as he had reverted to Italian. I flew down those stairs as fast as my legs could carry me. Obviously too fast, as I ran straight onto the road and into the path of a taxi.
    I don’t recall being hit. The next thing I remember is lying on the side of the road, a giant of a man cleaning the blood off my face.
    ‘Oh good, she’s alive, when the bitch comes around tell her to stay off the fucking road next time.’ Then the taxi driver got in his cab and left.
    My Good Samaritan offered to drive me home, but I didn’t want him to know I lived in a brothel. So I grabbed my suitcase and purse and walked myself home.
    The next day, Tony rang a few of his friendly police buddies on our behalf, and within ten minutes they were at the front door of La Belle Femme to make sure we retrieved everything that belonged to us from Rozario without incident. Once there, the police told us to go straight inside, get only our belongings and wait in the car for them. I followed their instructions to a tee. Tracy, on the other hand, decided to take liberties with Rozario’s portable stereo and the like. Rozario didn’t see her walk out the door with any of it; he was being detained in the bedroom. I could hear the police verbally abusing the shit out of him, after all, this was an unofficial visit. It wasn’t until Rozario started arguing back that the sound of beatings could be heard; for a second I even felt sorry for the perverted little prick. You could hear him pleading for them to stop.
    Tracy was proving to be quite a headache for Tony. She turned up for work when it suited her and left once the disco was open. To add to that she had started ripping off clients while they were in the shower. Of course she denied it. Tracy also took great pride in insulting the receptionist, who was a transvestite. Tony had no choice but to ask us not to sleep at the brothel any longer, though we were allowed to keep working there. Why should he completely ruin a good and profitable working relationship? I didn’t know where we were going to go, if anywhere. But I understood his decision.
    Our shifts started at ten in the morning, and finished at two the following morning so accommodation was usually the all-night discos. In the event I couldn’t keep my eyes open, I would usually let someone take me home.
    I thought it was a bargain, for three minutes of sex—because let’s face it, that’s all it ever takes—I got a nice clean bed, a warm shower and, more often than not, breakfast in the morning. Sometimes if Tracy didn’t get picked up or vice versa, the one guy would get stuck with both of us. Some nights I wasn’t in the mood for dancing, screwing, men, noise or any company whatsoever, so I splashed out on a motel.
    We were earning good money but we needed ID and references to get a lease on an apartment, none of which we had.
    Tracy gave away more sex than she ever sold. To see her bring a man back to the motel was highly unusual; a football team was far more her style. I could not