Chapter 15
“You’ve been quiet all morning,” Jesmine remarked, taking a swig of her water.
Jesmine pursed her lips and looked out onto the gym floor where other try-hards were getting in a workout bright and early on a Monday morning. “Yeah, well…there’s a lot on my mind.”
“Same.” Soraya ducked under the bar and headed to the weight racks.
While she picked up a couple of plates, Jesmine continued, “I just feel off…like when you’re talking to someone, and then in the middle of it, you completely forget what you’re saying.”
Soraya nodded as she loaded the bar with the plates.
Then, she ducked down and placed the metal on her shoulders.
“Yeah,” she said, squatting, “I’ve been feeling the same way…
like something is wrong.” Add the fact that she was one of the last people to see that college creep alive before he was brutally murdered.
She did several more squats, barely feeling the weight, while Jesmine exclaimed, “Yes! But it’s every time I try to talk, it’s—did you just squat 400 pounds?
” Jesmine gawked as Soraya re-racked the bar and stepped back.
The metal bar appeared to be on the verge of snapping under the weight of the plates.
Soraya pursed her lips, not realizing she had squatted that much weight.
“Dude, that chick just squatted both our combined weights,” she overheard a guy say.
“She could bend me over any day of the week, man.”
Raising a single eyebrow, she glanced over her shoulder, expecting to see the two guys talking so boldly about her—but no one was nearby. Looking around, she spotted a couple of dudes on the other side of the gym, too far away to have overheard the comments they made.
She turned back to see Jesmine under the bar, struggling to lift it with great difficulty. “Hey, watch it!” she yelled just as Jesmine began to buckle under the weight. Rushing forward, Soraya lifted the bar off her shoulders and racked it as Jesmine collapsed onto the mat.
Shaking her head, Soraya quickly removed the plates and returned them to the rack.
“How the hell did you do that?” Jesmine demanded, slightly out of breath from where she sat on the mat. “You squatted that like it was nothing!”
Truthfully, Soraya hadn’t even realized she’d put that much weight on the bar.
She especially didn’t dare admit that it hadn’t felt anywhere near 400 pounds.
Unable to fully explain, she simply said, “My body feels really good today. I don’t know what it is, but it’s like my body took a boost, and my mind took a dive—like you were saying. ”
“Okay…that doesn’t explain anything.” Jesmine stood and crossed her arms, examining Soraya. Taking a step back, she pursed her lips and asked suspiciously, “Are you taking steroids?”
Soraya rolled her eyes. “Does it look like I’m taking steroids?”
Jesmine’s eyes darted to Soraya’s reflection in the mirror, lingering on her ass.
Without saying a word, Soraya threw a punch, which Jesmine sidestepped with a shit-eating grin. “Okay, okay. I believe you—for now.”
Soraya pulled out her phone and gave Jesmine the finger. Then, she saw the time. “I have to head back; my shift starts in an hour.”
“Alright. I’m going to hang here and be on the lookout for your drug dealer.”
“You do that,” Soraya tossed over her shoulder as she collected her things and exited the gym.
~
Bumping her bedroom door open with her hip, Soraya dumped her bag on the floor and tossed her water bottle onto the bed.
Heading to her closet, she slid it open and rummaged through her clothes for a pair of jeans and a T-shirt.
As she parted her hangers, an alluring scent wafted through the air, stopping her in her tracks.
Her eyes darted down to the hamper, partially concealed by hanging clothes. The scent of Lestis cologne—jasmine and sage—lingered in the air.
Reaching into her hamper, she pulled out the dress she’d worn last night.
The light fabric felt cool, like chilled air slipping between her fingers.
She didn’t know why his cologne affected her so deeply—all she knew was that it was heady and intoxicating.
Without realizing it, her eyes had closed, and the dress was pressed against her nose and mouth.
She inhaled deeply, letting the memory of him flood her.
Heat blossomed under her skin, her thighs pressing together as little sparks of desire bloomed low in her stomach.
Her eyes flew open, and an indignant sound escaped the back of her throat as she threw the dress down. The man had assumed she was a sex worker—and he thought he could boss her around with the promise of compensation.
Her lips pursed as her body throbbed, traitorous and unrelenting, reminding her how thoroughly he’d finger-fucked her and how much she’d liked it. Would it be so wrong to enjoy herself and be paid for it?
Shit. Maybe I shouldn’t have left. The thought teased her, brief but insistent. What would he have done to her if she’d stayed?
Shaking her head, Soraya pushed away those intrusive, wicked thoughts. Marching into her shared bathroom, she convinced herself that the only thing she wanted turned on was the shower.
She hissed as the cold water hit her skin. She hoped the shock of the cold water would extinguish the heat in her body before it got out of hand.
Reaching for her regular body wash, she squeezed some into her palm and froze. The smell was rancid like perfume sprayed over rotting trash. Gagging, she quickly rinsed it away.
Biting her lips, she eyed Ahvi’s body wash on the metal rack. In the past, while showering, she would, from time to time, smell her friends’ shampoos and soaps. She found that Ahvi’s toiletries never had a scent to them.
Popping open the lid, she performed a cautious sniff test. Nothing. No scent at all, just as she’d hoped.
Grateful, she squeezed a dollop of the clear liquid into her palm and worked it into soapy suds, washing away the remnants of her sex-addled thoughts along with the sweat clinging to her skin.
She had been a right slut these past few nights.
She’d gotten what she wanted, and now it was time for her to cool down.
Work needed her focus, and school was starting next week.
She didn’t have time to keep messing around, especially after what happened to that guy.
He may have been a creep, but he didn’t deserve that kind of death. No one did.
Besides, she got sex all out of her system.
She was done.
No more.
And she most definitely didn’t want her face on the evening news.
~
“Thank you, Ms. Honei,” a man said as Soraya ladled hot beef stew into his bowl.
“Please enjoy, Mr. Smith,” she replied warmly, a smile softening her face.
The middle-aged man clutched his bowl to his chest, retreating into the bustling cafeteria to find a seat. Angel Mission was packed that night. Every long table was overcrowded, the hum of conversation punctuated by the clinking of utensils against bowls.
She scanned the crowd—so many new faces. The thought sent a pang of worry through her—would they all find shelter tonight? It wasn’t winter yet, but the nights were growing colder. How many of these people would manage to get back on their feet before the brutal nights of fall?
“Me next, Ms. Soraya,” a voice broke through her thoughts.
Breaking out of her worry, she spotted one of her regulars, Mr. Adams. He wore a pair of jeans that had seen better days, and an oversized T-shirt layered over a worn thermal undershirt with long sleeves.
“Why hello, Mr. Adams. How are you doing this evening?”
“It’s getting tough out here, Soraya,” the older man said, his weathered face shadowed by a haunted look.
“I can see that.” Soraya ladled a hefty scoop of stew into his bowl. “Sad to see so many new faces here, but glad they can get something to eat.”
As she handed him the bowl and began to pull back, his hand shot out, gripping her wrist with an iron hold.
Soraya’s eyes jerked up to meet his. He’d never grabbed her before.
“No, Soraya,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “There’s something going on at night. People are going missing. It isn’t safe.”
“Please let go of me, Mr. Adams,” Soraya said calmly. From the corner of her eye, she saw David, the security guard, shift by the door, his posture tense, ready to intervene.
Letting go of her wrist, Mr. Adams lowered his voice, the words thick with warning.
“Don’t walk the streets alone at night, Soraya.
There’s something out there. It got Samuel the other night, but nobody believes me.
I saw it!” His eyes were wide, desperate, and Soraya could see the genuine fear in them.
Mr. Adams had been diagnosed with schizophrenia, and the community workers had been fighting tirelessly to get him the apartment and the medication he needed.
“I understand, Mr. Adams. I’ll take care of myself. Thank you for worrying about me.”
He nodded quietly, clutching his soup, his lips moving with incoherent mutterings as he shuffled off to find a seat.
Soraya was entering college to earn her master’s in social work.
She loved helping people, and her ultimate goal was to become a mental health technician, offering support to individuals like Mr. Adams. It was exhausting, demanding work, but it was also rewarding.
Deep in her heart, she felt that she could make a difference—despite the critics who called it futile.
For her, it wasn’t just a job but a mission. And when she looked at all the unhoused people on the streets, those who had been forgotten by society, she knew her work mattered.
Unhoused people were still part of the community, and what did it say about a society that allowed its own people to suffer?
She and Jesmine had suffered, too, under a broken system. And she refused to accept that others should continue to do the same.
~
After cleaning up, Soraya was left alone to lock up the soup kitchen.
The sound of the lock sliding into place echoed in the alley as she pocketed the keys and turned to head home. Thoughts of Mr. Adam and the new unhoused family she was talking with swirled around in her head.
It was almost golden hour, and the sun had cast long shadows across the sidewalk. Soraya hummed a soft tune as she walked, but her steps faltered when a putrid smell hit her, making her gag.
Instinctively, she covered her mouth and looked around, trying to locate the source of the horrid stench. Her eyes landed on a gutter clogged with trash. She quickly moved away from it, but the smell still clung to the air, nauseating her as she continued on her way.
A chill crept up the back of her neck, and the hairs there stood on end. Casting a glance down the street, her gaze traveled down three blocks of gum-coated sidewalks before reaching an overpass lined with the red-tailed lights of traffic.
Squinting, she looked beneath the overpass and made out several tents lining the shadowed sidewalk. The distant honking and the low rumble of tires on the asphalt filled her ears as her eyes fixed on the shredded side of a blue tent, flapping in the breeze.
Her heart thudded in her chest. Something didn’t look right about it, even from the distance she stood. Slowly, her eyes moved behind the tents, up the sloping concrete wall, until they landed on the dark space between the underside of the overpass and the concrete slope.
Straining to see, she tried to pierce the shadows. Her mouth tightened as an unsettling feeling grew in the pit of her stomach. Her eyes were locked on a spot in the dark space, and with each passing second, she felt a creeping sensation that something was watching her.
Then, she took a step back.
She couldn’t tell if her eyes were playing tricks, but she could’ve sworn there was something long-limbed, hunched down on all fours, staring directly at her.
The putrid smell blasted into her face as a gust of wind swept over her, but she didn’t bother covering her nose as the shadow moved.
“Hey, Soraya.”
Jumping, Soraya spun around to find Ahvi in a summer dress, smiling at her.
Panicked, Soraya opened her mouth and yelled, “Ahvi, run!”