So, yeah, the cold wind can go fuck itself. I need to bag a customer and get paid. Even though it is not looking very likely. I thought this street corner looked promising, but I guess it is too far out from the red-light district. Dammit. I don’t want to get mixed up in gang bullshit ever again, but staying out of their territory and being discreet is bullshit.
What the fuck am I going to do? All the escort agencies belong to various gangs. So I’m screwed. Well, not screwed, which is entirely the problem.
But wait a minute, this car looks promising. It is slowing right down.
Sure enough, it stops beside me and the window winds down. I put on my best flirtatious smile. The middle-aged businessman gives me a long, appraising once over.
“How much?” he asks.
I lean right through the open window.
“Well darling, that depends on what you are after. A suck or a fuck?”
I drag my teeth over my bottom lip and draw out the eff sound in the word fuck, and sure enough, his gaze fixes on my lips. Seizing the moment, I run my tongue lavishly over my plump, juicy goodness.
And then I’m falling backwards onto the pavement and landing on my ass. What the hell? The car disappears in a screech of tires. For fuck’s sake.
I jump back up to my feet, whip my mace out of my pocket, and brandish it at my attacker.
Blue glares back at me.
“Blue? What the hell are you doing here?” I ask as I put my mace away.
The siren is wearing a cute blue leather jacket. I wonder if he will let me borrow it one day.
“He was going to hurt you,” says Blue with a surprising amount of venom.
I sigh heavily. “No he wasn’t, sweetheart. I was going to suck his cock and he was going to give me money.”
Blue just stares at me. For fucks sake. He has lost me my only customer. This is so not what I need right now.
“I have money,” says Blue quietly.
I raise an eyebrow. “And what, you want me to suck your cock?”
A look of absolute horror and dread flows over Blue’s pretty face and he stumbles backwards a few steps. Oh shit, I’m such a fucking asshole. Look at me snapping at the traumatized, recently freed sex slave.
“Shit! I’m sorry Blue. I’m sorry I’m a shithead. My mouth doesn’t listen to my brain half the time.”
He stops edging backwards, but he is still eyeing me warily.
“I’m sorry, I really am. I was grumpy about losing the customer,” I plead.
He nods, but he still looks deeply unsettled. Dammit. This night is such a bust. I should have just stayed in my room and got drunk. Very drunk.
“Why are you here?” I ask despondently.
I really hope he isn’t here to tell me not to come back to the house.
He squirms and turns a lovely shade of pink. “I was worried about you.”
And doesn’t that just hit me in the feels. I upset him the other day. He barely knows me, but he somehow miraculously gives a shit? Enough of a shit to be trapesing after me in the middle of the night? He must be one of those shining people who cares about everyone. Even still, having someone care is enough of an oddity that I’m not going to take it for granted.
“I’m starving,” I say suddenly. “How about we go for a burger?”
He nods tentatively, and I take that as a win. He follows me silently as I lead the way to the nearest fast food place. It’s open 24 hours, and strip lights, plastic tables and shit coffee always make me feel at home. Lord knows I’ve spent enough time in them over the years. Especially on cold winter nights when I didn’t have anywhere else to go.
His bright blue eyes look around with interest as we step inside, and it makes me wonder how familiar he is with human things. And now I’m wondering how the hell I’m so okay with all this paranormal stuff. I’m putting it down to my life always being chaotic and eventful, so what’s one more dose of crazy?
