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“Okay.”
She walks away, turning back to wave at me as I drive forward. I can’t help them all, but I can help a little bit. I know how scary the shelters can be too. A lot of assaults happen there, and sometimes it’s safer to take your chances on the street. I just hate to see such a young girl turning tricks. It’s so dangerous.
After cruising downtown, I find myself entering a neighborhood I don’t go to much. No one does. It’s the old Lark District, named after a nineteenth century business dude who opened a bunch of factories over here. They were burned down about fifty years ago, allegedly by the owners at the time, the descendants of William Lark, for the insurance money. Now it’s just several blocks of burned-out buildings filled with all kinds of bad things.
It’s not safe and I know I should turn around and get out of here, but my eye catches on something very interesting. At the end of the street is a familiar black van, and the man himself is standing outside of it speaking to someone inside it.
I slow down to keep my distance so he won’t see me, but that’s definitely Whisper. What is he doing over here? Oh fuck, is he a pimp? No. There’s no way. I won’t believe that. A drug dealer? That doesn’t seem to fit.
Oh no. My stomach twists.
Is he here looking for kids to pick up? That would be one hell of a deal-breaker.
I shake my head. That can’t be it. I don’t know him well, but I know that’s not him.
The person he’s talking to slips out of the van and they disappear behind a building. I pull forward slowly, carefully, and I’m glad I hung back because just a couple minutes later, Whisper appears again, the other man right beside him. Whisper’s got his phone to his ear as he climbs into the driver’s seat and the man he’s with gets in on the passenger side.
Whisper starts the van and pulls onto the street, and I follow, keeping my distance. I follow him out of the neighborhood and back to the freeway, passing the turn as he gets on heading towards Crestvale.
As I turn around to head to my place, my phone rings, startling me. Please don’t let there be drama at home.
It’s Whisper! Oh shit. Did he see me following him?
I answer, filled with nerves. “Hello?”
“Hey. It’s Whisper.”
“Hey.”
“Listen, I’m sorry I missed you tonight. I’m heading home now. The night went longer than expected.”
“I understand.”
“What’s your schedule tomorrow? Can we meet up?”
“I’m off tomorrow night.”
“Busy?”
“Not really. I could make time for you.”
“Good. Then expect to hear from me. I’d try to meet up tonight, but I have one of my brothers with me and it’ll be twenty minutes until I’m home. Then another however long to meet somewhere.”
“Tomorrow is okay; it’s late.”
“It is. You have a good night?”
“Not bad. You?”
“Did what needed to get done.”
“More classified info?”
“That’s right.” He chuckles softly. “Get some rest tonight. You’re gonna need it.”
“Promises, promises. Good night, Whisper.”
“Good night, Blush.”
