Page 65
Blush
I want to run. I want to disappear into the night and pretend none of this ever happened, but there’s something calming about Whisper right now, so I wait to see what he’s going to say.
“I’ve seen your kills around town,” he says. “All the same profile, except for one. He was beaten to death in a gas station parking lot. That you?”
“I don’t want to talk about him.”
“Okay. How many?”
“I’m not saying.”
“You can trust me, Blush. Maybe I can help.”
I turn sideways to face him. “How? Don’t tell me to get therapy because I’ve done that. Don’t tell me to go to the cops because I’ve tried that. I’ve given them anonymous tips. I reported my own—”
“Your own what? Did someone hurt you, Blush?”
“Long time ago,” I mumble, embarrassed now. “I don’t like this. You’re supposed to see me as a hot, sexy dancer and a good fuck. Nothing else.”
“You’re more than that.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I’m trying to.”
“Why?” I shove his chest. “Why are you here? Why were you following me? Isn’t that weird?”
“I wasn’t following you on purpose.”
I raise my eyebrow. “How do you accidentally follow someone?”
“Initially I was on my way somewhere and I spotted you at the convenience store. I was hoping maybe you were on your way home and we could talk, but then you were at the church and…”
“And I followed Robert. You caught on.”
“Yes.”
“So what were you doing in that area? Tell me the truth, Whisper. Are you a pimp? Or a-a dealer? I refuse to believe you’re a pedophile or that you take advantage of the street kids.”
He levels me with a look. “You know me better than that.”
“I think so, but you could tell me.”
Whisper rubs his forehead, looking distraught for a moment before gazing out his driver’s side window.
“Is this one of those ‘if you tell me you have to kill me’ situations?”
He turns his head sharply. “I would never hurt you. Never.”
“I know,” I admit softly. “It can’t be worse than what I do.”
He nods, exhaling slowly. “What if I told you we have a lot in common but for different reasons?”
I stare at him while I try to work out what he’s saying. “Um, do you mean you…” I shrug as my words trail off.
“I’m a hit man, Blush. I get paid to take care of problems.”
If I could see my own face, I’m sure I would look shocked. I wasn’t even close to figuring him out.