Lost In His Arm

Tasha's POV

Watching my mom struggle to move up and ease the itching on her back broke my heart.

I struggled to keep the flood of water gathering in my eyes from rolling down.

She was in severe pain, and there was nothing I could do to help her. I smiled pretentiously to assure her that all was going to be alright and I would be by her side till the end.

I kept smiling reassuringly as she closed her eyes and drifted to sleep. The doctors always induced her when the itch and ache were too much for her to bear.

I blamed myself for not being financially stable enough to help her; the doctors said it was a hopeless situation and nothing could be done to save her.

I sat by her bedside, held her hands, and prayed for a miracle. Anything to make her feel better would make me the happiest person on earth.

The doctor walked in and asked me to see him in his office. I gently dropped her hands on the bed and walked into the doctor's room.

I sat on the chair and hoped for the best. He looked at me cheerfully, and I could tell from his smile that it was both good and bad news.

“Miss Tasha,” he said,

“There is hope for your mom.”

My countenance changed immediately, and my cheeks glowed with joy.

“Go ahead, Doctor Mike; whatever it is, I am willing to do it.”

“There is a donor that matches your mom's case, but it will cost you two million dollars.” He continued. “The surgery will make her walk again, and she will be able to continue her life once more. But if we don't hurry up, the infection will spread, and she might lose her life.”

My mouth suddenly turned sour; I could feel my heartbeat racing, and tears rolled down my cheeks uncontrollably.

“Two million dollars, Doctor?”

Where would I get such funds???? Even if I sell all we have, it will amount to nothing, and yet I have to make sure Mom is OK.

In a daze, I scrambled out of his office without saying another word.

Mom worked multiple shifts at different jobs to make sure I was OK; she did not relent at any point until she had a drastic accident that almost claimed her life. Her spine broke, and it's even a miracle that she is alive at this time.

Now we have found a donor, but where would two million come from?

I left the hospital, walked to the roadside, and hailed a cab.

“Take me to the 90ties clubhouse,” I said as I got in and closed the door of the cab.

When we got there, I gave him a ten-dollar note and asked him to keep the change. I can’t believe I’m being so generous today; it must be what people feel when their whole world is collapsing.

I walked into the club looking like a rejected maid. My hair was tied like a horsetail, and I wore a black long gown that was slit at the right side. It hugged me so well; my curves were showing, and multiple eyes followed me as I walked to the empty chair in the bar.

I had no makeup on and wore a low-heeled black sandal with my purse in my hand.

I ordered a glass of whisky; it was my first time, so I had to take it slow.

I sipped a little, and it hit my mouth and my chest. I took more sips, and soon I emptied the glass. I could hear the loud music playing, the disco light spinning around in different colours and the giggles of ladies as they jumped and danced around men.

I ordered another glass, and this time the first sip got to half of the glass.

I got up to join the dancing crowd but was stopped by a loud sexy voice behind me.

“May I buy you a drink?” She asked politely

I turned around and saw a tall, slender, busty lady. Her presence was distinct, and she had a lovely smile on her face.

"No, thank you,” I yelled back to her over the loud music.

But she insisted, and this time she held my hands and dragged me to a seat close to her.

“My name is Bernice, and I like you,” she said to me as she came up close so I could hear her.

“Whoa, whoa, hold it, lady, I’m straight. I’m no guy, ma'am. You’re beautiful and all, but I don’t do ladies." I leaned in and told her, then reclined as I stood up to take my leave.

She chuckled and assured me that she was also straight, but she had a business proposition for me.

She took me to a less noisy part of the club, where we sat down and listened to her go off about some crazy plan she thought I could fulfill.

“Would you be interested in spending the night in a five-star hotel with an irresistible man? I promise he won't bite,” she said sarcastically.

I looked at her, irritated.

“How dare you miss?”

“Do I look homeless or desperate to you?”

She smiled again and said,

“It's not for free, Miss uh…” She raised an eyebrow, silently asking for my name

“Tasha, it’s Tasha,” I answered.

“Miss Tasha,” she continued with a nod. “If you are interested, I would write you a cheque or if you prefer, I could transfer 500 dollars to your account instantly.”

My ears became sharpened, and I tilted my head to the side to calculate what 500 dollars could do for me.

“What will I be doing for the night?” I asked her, sounding interested.

“All you have to do is make my boss happy. He has wild desires and loves role-playing in the room.”

I looked at her again; this time my eyes shot daggers at her, and she got the message.

I told her that if anything happened to me, I would call the police immediately.

She assured me that I was safe and had nothing to worry about.

“OK, send the money first, then we can be on our way.” She agreed, and in less than 5 minutes, my phone chimed, and I was 500 dollars richer.

I took my purse and followed behind her. As we got to the front of the club, a convertible black Chevrolet was packed outside waiting for us.

As we drove to the hotel, she said, “Don't make him beg; just do as he says, and if he is satisfied, he might offer you more bonuses.”

The thought of having more money gladdened my heart. But what kind of things will he ask me to do? My heart could not help but shiver.