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A couple of hours go by and there’s still no sign of Whisper. He must be working. I hope he’s okay. Why wouldn’t he be? For all I know, he cleans office buildings at night. Nothing high risk about that.
I’m just sure that’s not it. Not after seeing Cashmere’s husband and his friends around here enough to know that whatever they do for work, it’s not run-of-the-mill stuff. It might not even be legal. So maybe Whisper wouldn’t even care if he knew what I really was.
He’ll never find out, of course. I’ll never admit it out loud to anyone.
When the club closes, I head out to my car and think about what to do next. I don’t want to go home yet. I could drive by Whisper’s house again and see if he’s home, but is that too creepy? What if he took someone else home with him tonight?
That thought doesn’t sit right with me, which is so damn weird. It’s not like we’re an item or anything. We’re just fucking. Still, I don’t want him fucking other people until we’re done with each other.
I put the car in drive and start for home, but find myself turning down the main street going in the opposite direction of my place. Where I’m going, I have no clue. I just feel drawn in this direction.
A few minutes later, I end up driving through an area where a lot of unhoused people congregate. It’s quiet and calm tonight, which is good to see. I loop around and end up spotting some of the kids I see sometimes.
As I slow down, one of them approaches my car, no doubt to offer me a trick. It’s a young girl I’ve seen a few times before. I don’t know her age, but there’s no way she’s over eighteen, and it hurts just to see her.
“Hey,” she says to me through my passenger window. “Want some company?”
“How old are you?”
She narrows her eyes. “You a cop?”
Tilting my head, I give her a hard look. “Do I look like a fucking cop to you?”
She studies me for a second. “I guess not.”
“Listen, I know it’s hard out here and you need to eat—I get it. But you can’t do this. You could get hurt.”
“Yeah? What else am I supposed to do? I don’t have an ID so I can’t get a job, and the shelters are scary. Out here, at least people look out for me.”
“That’s all I’m doing too.”
“Okay, so I can blow you for five dollars.”
I scrunch my nose. “Girl. You gotta charge more than that if you’re gonna do this.”
“I like blow jobs. I charge twenty for penetration.”
“No. Double it. Hell, triple it. You know what? Twenty bucks for a blow, fifty for penetration. Say no to anal. That’s too dangerous.”
She studies me for a second. “You’ve been out here too?”
“Yeah. I get it.” I dig in my pocket for some cash. I did pretty well tonight, so I hand her a twenty. “Get some dinner.”
“I can take care of you.”
“Nah, sis, I’m gay.”
“Oh. Lenny can—”
“I’m not looking for sex. I’m just driving through.”
She looks at the money in her hand. “I can just have this?”
“Yeah. I wish I could give you more, but rent’s due in a couple of days.”
“Thanks. Why are you doing it?”
“Been there. Be careful, okay?”
