I stepped back, giving him space like I wasn’t leading him exactly where I wanted him. “After you,” I purred.
He snorted, already turning toward the door.
The wind was already picking up, snow flurries hitting my face as I walked outside.
My soon-to-be victim jerked his head for me to follow and started around the side of the building like this was routine for him.
It probably was. I couldn’t imagine anyone willingly being with him without the promise of money.
I trailed after him, letting a small distance sit between us, just enough that he didn’t feel crowded.
The narrow alley behind the bar was dark and shielded from the weak streetlights. A dumpster sat crooked against the wall, overflowing and giving off that sour, rotting smell that mixed unpleasantly with the cold air.
He stopped there, turning to face me, already working at his belt like he couldn’t be bothered to wait another second.
“Alright,” he grunted, jerking his chin. “C’mon.”
I stepped closer, my hand opening expectantly. “Payment first.”
His expression twisted, irritation flaring back up. “Yeah, no,” he said, waving a dismissive hand. “You get paid after, whore.”
I tilted my head, letting a small pout touch my mouth. “That’s not how it works.”
“That’s how it works tonight,” he snapped. “You think I’m stupid? I give you cash, you run off.”
I let out a small sigh like I was conceding. “Fine,” I murmured. “But you better not short me.”
He snorted. “Just get on with it.”
I was close enough to smell him properly now, and god I was starting to wish I had something covering my nose. There was no way this man had showered recently.
My hands came up lightly on his sides like I was steadying myself before dropping to my knees.
He relaxed, head tipping back and eyes already half-lidded with anticipation.
Idiot.
I lowered myself just enough to sell it.
Then, my hand moved.
The blade slid free from my sleeve cleanly, quick and practiced, hidden until the very last second.
His confusion barely had time to register before I drove it forward.
His body jerked hard, a choked sound catching in his throat, hands coming down too late—grabbing, scrambling, trying to understand what had just happened.
I leaned in, close to his ear, my grip steady as I held him there.
“Should’ve paid first,” I murmured.
His weight hit me unevenly, heavy and clumsy as his strength gave out faster than we both expected. I eased him down instead of letting him drop, controlling the movement so it stayed quiet, so it stayed contained to this little pocket of darkness behind the bar.
The alley went quiet again, like nothing had happened.
I straightened, adjusting my coat like I’d just finished something mundane instead of what I had, took a quick glance around, then turned and stepped back out of the alley, slipping into the night like I’d never been there at all.
There had been a camera in the alley, but I doubted it was on or working. If it was, all it would see and hear would be a john getting robbed by a sex worker. My hair and the majority of my face had been covered. When his body was inevitably discovered, no one would blink an eye. Robberies gone too far were relatively common in this town. I also had confidence that no one from inside the bar would mention anything about me to police. That was, if the police even cared enough to investigate.
