Page 5 of Crown Jewels
After clipping my stocking onto my garter belt, I adjusted the firm and way too pointy fifties style bra I had on. I was a bit surprised at how well my look came out. The lingerie did not look comfortable—yet oddly was—and it took me two hours to get my hair right.
That was the hardest part. I had too many curls to get the soft waterfall like effect women in the 1950’s had. So, I ended up doing the pinup girl thing. I rolled it up in the back, used a lot of hairspray and gel to form one big curl for bangs in the front, and finished it off with a red bandana tied in the middle.
A wig might’ve been easier, but that felt like cheating. History should be respected, even sexual history. That was my niche so to say. My show was called A Step Back In Time With Ruby Rose.I dressed up in the sexy attire of the time and talked about the sexual norms.
Most of my audience probably didn’t listen to half the stuff I said, but it made me feel like I was more than something to jerk off to. That, and I was a history major so I could study while working.
The fifties wasn’t a decade I would’ve chosen, but it won the request. So, here I was, with pointy boobs and waist high underwear. Although, I did have to admit that the lingerie looked pretty good. Not at all what I expected when I got them. I’d need a chisel to get all the product out of my hair, but that was okay. I was actually kind of excited to do this one.
Picking up a can of hairspray, I gave my hair one more good spritz and coughed at the chemical taste lingering in the back of my throat. How women tasted anything back then was beyond me.
I needed to get a bottle of water before logging on, otherwise I’d be choking out my words. Since the boys weren’t home, I didn’t bother with a robe and walked out of my room to head to the kitchen.
The cockatoo in the large cage in the corner of the living room bobbed her head as I walked past. “Bawk, pretty Ruby, pretty Ruby.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled while rolling my eyes.
That complement was not meant for me. The bird’s name was Ruby. I was pretty sure that was Vahn’s way of poking fun at me. He called me parakeet for some unknown reason. Naming his bird after my alternate persona was just one of the many things he did to annoy me.
“Pretty Ruby, pretty Ruby.” The cockatoo continued to sing while dancing around her cage.
Once upon a time I liked birds, then Vahn got that thing.
I twisted of the cap on a bottle of water and narrowed my eyes on the cage. “If the zombie apocalypse happens, I’m eating you first.”
And how did the bird respond?
“Vahn is the master, Vahn is the master.”
Yup, my brother’s best friend taught his bird to say he was the master. That was the kind of asshole he was. He was also the kind of asshole who had a knack for picking the perfect time to catch me off guard. Like when I was standing in the kitchen in nothing but underwear.
The front door flew open, causing me to choke on the water that I was in the middle of swallowing. Vahn came barging in dragging my unconscious brother with him. It wasn’t the fact that Mitch wasn’t awake that disturbed me—it wouldn’t be the first time he was too drunk to walk.
It was the bruise on the side of his face that made me rush over when Vahn dropped him on the couch.
“Oh my god,” I reached out to gingerly touch the deep purple mark. “Did someone hit him?”
“Of course someone hit him.” Vahn snorted as if my brother getting knocked out was the most natural thing in the world.
“Why would anyone hit Mitch?”
My brother might act tough but he was a big teddy bear. He wouldn’t hurt a fly, unless the fly was our father. But that wasn’t his fault. There was only so much abuse a kid could take before they hit back, and Mitch took the brunt of our father’s anger.
Vahn’s brow rose. “Why do you think?”
That irritated look he was giving me meant only one thing. Mitch was gambling again. He said he was going to stop. Not that I believed him. Mitch saying he wasn’t going to gamble anymore was about as true as an abusive husband promising he wouldn’t hit his wife again.
Looking down at my brother, I sighed, “how much does he owe this time?”
I just finished paying off his last debt. Looks like Ruby will be doing some extra shows this week.
“Nothing,” Vahn said. “I convinced him to leave before he lost too much.”
That didn’t sound right. “You convinced him to leave?”
Mitch didn’t stop gambling, even when it was an emergency. Like when I was in a car accident while he was in the middle of a lucky streak with blackjack. The lucky steak cost me three grand on top of medical bills.
“Yeah.” Vahn nodded. “I’m that good.”
