Shooter (Burnout)

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Shooter (Burnout) Page 5

by West, Dahlia


  Hayley looked exasperated. “You know you-”

  “Hey!” came a voice from behind them. Chris heard Hayley mutter a curse. “Hey, you owe me twenty bucks!”

  Hayley and Chris turned and Chris spotted a woman well past her prime with teased blond hair, black at the roots, haphazardly applied lipstick, and a cigarette hanging out of her mouth. She was marching toward them. Hayley sighed. “No, I do not.”

  “Bullshit,” the woman snapped, eyeing Chris like a slab of beef. She held out her liver spotted hand. Then she smiled sweetly. “I ain’t ripping you off, honey,” she told Hayley. “It’s the same deal for all the other girls.”

  “He’s just walking me to the door,” Hayley insisted, and began to turn away.

  The woman’s extended hand grabbed Hayley’s arm and yanked her back. “Don’t care what you call it, girlie. I get my twenty bucks.”

  Hayley struggled to jerk her arm out of the crone’s grip. “Hey,” Chris said, “get your hand off her.”

  The crone gave him a dismissive look. “Stay out of this, John. Ain’t interested in your opinion.” She pulled Hayley in closer. “Got your tits,” she observed. “Got your pretty face. Bet your snatch is still tighter than a drum.” She jerked her head toward Chris. “Charge him extra if you want. He looks like he can afford it and he for damn sure won’t find better around here. But I get my cut, missy, or you’re out on your skinny little ass.”

  Hayley finally jerked free and Chris saw her face turn red, either from anger or embarrassment, he wasn’t sure, probably both, he figured. “I’m not a hooker!” Hayley hissed. “And you know it! You know damn good and well I’ve never had a man in my room!”

  The crone’s eyes narrowed. “Had two of ‘em in your room last night, or so I heard,” she countered. “One was a cop, messing up my business. Folks don’t like badges too much around here. I’d kick your ass out for that, but your rent’s regular. Bit more of it coming in, too, if you take him upstairs. Could be good for both of us. You’re way too old to make any serious cash, but you could still earn a pretty penny.”

  “Enough,” Chris growled in a tone that finally got the old lady’s attention. “Get the fuck out of my face,” he told her.

  The lady sneered. “Or what, John?”

  He leaned in as close as he dared trying to flinch at the stench wafting off her. “Or I call my cop friend back and he starts knocking on doors.”

  The old lady did actually pale slightly, but then recovered her resolve. “I want my twenty bucks,” she told Hayley. “Twenty or you’re out.”

  “Fine,” Chris replied for Hayley. “She’s out.” To Hayley he said, “Come on, Slick. We’re leaving. Now.”

  Hayley hesitated. “But-”

  “Now,” he repeated, putting an arm around her shoulders and steering her away from the crone and apparently her brothel. When they were well enough away, she stopped on the corner of the sidewalk and looked back at the motel. “Forget it,” he told her. He took hold of her chin and directed her gaze back to him. “I don’t pay for it, Slick. And you don’t sell it. And neither one of us is giving that beast another dime.”

  At that moment two men attempted to pass them to cross the street. Hayley shrank back from them and Chris maneuvered to put himself between her and the pedestrians, shielding her. When they had passed, he said, “You don’t know me, but your boss vouches for me, and anyone else at Maria’s if you’d care to ask them about me. You’re not gonna get a safer offer. Now are you gonna stop being so damn stubborn and move in next door?”

  She finally nodded and he held out his hand. Slowly, she slid the duffel off her shoulder and put the strap over his palm.He held the bag with one hand and put his other arm around her, guiding her back to the bar.

  ***************************

  Chris tossed her duffel into the back of his pickup and opened the passenger side door for her. She climbed in. It was beautiful inside. Nicer than any car she’d ever been in, with black leather seats to match the black exterior. He stepped on the clutch, though she couldn’t see how he had room with his enormous boots. He cranked the engine, shifted into first and rolled out of Maria’s lot. They rode in silence for a while when, curious, Hayley asked, "What happened?"

  He frowned at her. "What do you mean?"

  "You said you had a bad day at work. What do you do? The card said custom builds."

  "I own a garage. We do regular maintenance and repair and we also build custom bikes and cars. I got two orders due in August for Sturgis and my parts supplier is telling me they're back-ordered. They're both high dollar orders, but I won't get paid if I don't finish them both by the deadline."

  She nodded, looking out the window. "It's tough having to rely on other people. So much is out of your hands."

  "Exactly."

  "I hope it works out."

  "Thanks."

  He pulled into his driveway and killed the engine. He hopped out, rounded the front of the truck, and took hold of her elbow as she climbed down from the truck’s precarious height. He pulled her duffel out of the back and headed toward the little blue house, fishing out the extra set of keys.

  "Wait," she said. "We didn't talk price. I don't make a lot working days."

  He turned to her. "Well, I figured $100 a week. At this point I just want to get it rented and start getting back the money I put into it for renovations. And I'm busy at work, like I said, I don't really have time to shop around for tenants."

  "I can do a hundred a week. Do you want me to pay for this month since it's only the second week?"

  "Can you do that?" he asked.

  She nodded as he slid the key in the lock and opened the door. "Just give me a minute, okay?"

  "Sure," he said, stepping in and holding the door open for her.

  She decided to head straight to the bedroom with her duffel and tossed it on the bed. She rooted through it and counted out three hundred dollars and set it aside. Then she reached further into the bag and pulled out another two fifty. She zipped the bag, re-locked it with the tiny padlock and slipped the key for it into her pocket.

  She headed back out to the living room with the cash and found Chris waiting in the living room. She held out the stack of bills to him.

  He knitted his eyebrows looking down at it. "That's more than three hundred," he observed.

  "You said a two fifty security deposit," she reminded him.

  He counted out the two fifty and handed it back. "I was having a bad day that day, Slick. Don't worry about that."

  She hesitated then took the money back. "Do you have bad days a lot?" she teased.

  He chuckled. "Not really. No." He handed her the keys. "Still. No seriously crazy parties. Okay?"

  She smiled at him. "You and the people at Maria's are the only people I know."

  He grinned. "Don't let Maria fool you. You get too much tequila in her and she'll bring the house down."

  Hayley smiled and Chris made his way to the door. "Let me know if you need anything. Anything at all," he told her.

  After Chris left, she took a long look around her new digs. The first time she'd been here, she'd been more worried about being alone with Chris than actually looking at the place. She'd had male friends in the last five years, but she hadn't spent that much time alone with any of them, and when she did she'd known them for at least a few weeks if not months.

  The house was clean and smelled just a bit like fresh paint. It was beige which wouldn't have been her first choice for color. Or even her 75th choice. But it was a nice, clean place and it was much better than the Rainbow. She walked through the house slowly, making a mental note of everything she'd need to pick up at the store later. The kitchen was small but set up in a way that made sense with cabinets flowing into a stove then rounding the wall to a sink and the fridge. No TV but she didn't watch much anyway so it didn't matter. She looked at her beige walls and her beige carpet and her brand new white kitchen and smiled.

  Chapter 5

&n
bsp; A week went by with Chris occasionally seeing Hayley as she was headed out the door for work. A trek that seemed much easier now that she didn't have to schlep her bag with her everywhere. On Monday night she'd actually knocked on his door and he was needless to say more than a little surprised to see her there.

  She'd sheepishly told him that she'd forgotten to get butter at the store and was now in the middle of making dinner and finding herself needing it. If she'd been any other woman, Chris would have grinned his "I see what this is" grin and let her in to shoot the shit (and neither of them would have remembered about butter).

  But apparently...Hayley just needed butter. And he'd said he could understand that she'd forgotten to get some considering she was starting from scratch building her pantry and stocking her fridge. She'd come over again midweek for sugar, and a third time for red pepper.

  She'd apologized profusely each time, promising to pay him back, but he'd laughed and told her he really didn't care about sugar, pepper, and butter and since he was a shit cook anyway. He told her that as far as he was concerned, she could have whatever was in his kitchen. She'd looked at him funny, thanked him again, and left. And as she closed his front door, Chris got pissed. So pissed that he nearly put his hand through a wall. So pissed that he did slam a plate down into the sink and it shattered, causing him to spend several minutes digging the shards and splinters out of the drain.

  Now it was Thursday night and it was his turn to host the weekly Poker Game. Chris had stayed late at the garage and barely had enough time to order the pizzas and shower before the guys started showing up. Hawk had driven his truck this time and brought the beer, immediately putting it into the fridge when he entered the house.

  Chris paid the delivery boy and laid the pizza boxes out on the island, tossing some paper plates down next to them. Tex and Doc arrived at nearly the same time, diving straight for the pepperoni. Everyone leaned up against the counter, devouring their slices and waiting for the beer to get cold.

  Chris looked at Doc. “You know the hag running the Rainbow?”

  Doc grimaced. “Heard of her. Never met her myself. Looks the other way over anything as long as it doesn’t damage her property.”

  Chris shook his head. “Does more than look the other way. She takes a cut off the working girls.”

  “Slick tell you that?” asked Doc.

  “Didn’t have to. The old bitch tried to charge her twenty bucks for taking me to her room. Told Slick if she had a mind to start selling pussy, they could both make some quick cash, even though the hag thinks Slick is too old.”

  “Too old?” Hawk bit out. “Jesus Christ, she’s barely, what, 25? How young are we talking about here?”

  Chris’s face darkened. “I don’t know. I didn’t see anyone around and I sure as shit didn’t ask. But it doesn’t sit right with me, the hag charging the girls money on top of what they’re already paying for the room. Especially girls as young as Slick or even younger.”

  Doc considered this. “I’ll have vice swing by on the weekend, check I.D.’s.”

  Chris nodded. As an idea, he didn’t mind prostitution. He figured it was none of his business for starters, and since he himself made his living with his hands, he didn’t see any harm in a woman selling off her skills if she had a mind to. He had never paid for sex and never would, but guys in the service did it all the time, and as long as no one was being hurt by it, he never let it bother him. But the reality of hooking in a place like Rapid City, South Dakota, turned his stomach a little.

  The women out here weren’t the self-possessed, high-class, business-minded ladies of Vegas, New York, Paris, or Berlin. The women here were often abused, vulnerable, and desperate to scratch out a living, strung out by the habits they fed, needing money to buy their drugs but needing the drugs to numb themselves from the brutality of their profession. These weren’t mutually beneficial business transactions. These were people, both the hookers and their Johns, taking advantage of the weaknesses of others for a temporary fix.

  “Something else I gotta say,” Chris announced and his men looked up from their plates. “Slick’s off limits.”

  Tex grinned. “You staking a claim on that already? She hasn’t even been next door a whole week.”

  Hawk laughed. “She finally forgave you? Did you show her your gun?”

  Chris shook his head, took a pull off his beer and set it down. “She’s been raped.”

  The three men went still. “Shit,” Tex muttered. “That’s rough. Such a little thing, too. Wouldn’t take too much to hurt her.”

  “Explains the clothes,” Hawk grumbled.

  “Her old man?” Doc asked, his casual air belied the barely checked aggression that Chris knew was now simmering close to boiling.

  Chris shrugged. “Don’t know.”

  “I hope he shows up here. But if he doesn’t and you get his name, we’ll all go with you to pay him a visit,” Doc declared.

  Chris nodded, having had thoughts along those lines for quite a while. “She’s not so good in close quarters,” he told them. “In public, she seems alright. It’s more obvious when you get her alone, not that any of you would have much occasion to be alone with her. But if she comes to the garage looking for me for some reason, something with the house, and I’m not there, go easy on her. Be friendly, but not too friendly. Don’t crowd her even though she won’t get within arm’s reach of you, no matter what. Keep a door open. Don’t get between her and the exit. It makes her feel better. You know what to do.”

  They nodded. They did know. They’d served their first tour in Afghanistan together, seeing women who’d been raped by the Taliban in revenge for cooperating with the soldiers. It was never a thing you accepted, seeing a woman whose humanity had been taken away, turned by violence into a frightened, hunted creature. You could never accept it, the best you could do was learn to deal with it as best you could. It was the one area where their size and strength and general air of don’t-fuck-with-me worked against them. You had to learn to soften your tone, watch how close you were getting, appear non-threatening.

  Chris had no doubt, though, that the men at the table, despite their gruff demeanor, would do their level best to treat Hayley with care and consideration for what she’d been through. Even Hawk, who went through women more than any single man should in Chris’ very private and never-voiced opinion, always treated women with respect. The women knew that any time they spent with Hawk was strictly No Strings Attached.

  Tex, despite all his…proclivities…practically worshiped them. And Doc? Well, Chris assumed he was a stand up guy. Doc had a steady thing in Sioux Falls, a woman with no name other than “Sioux Falls”…as in “I’m headed to Sioux Falls tonight.” Chris dismissed this as not demeaning toward the woman in question so much as part of Doc’s apparent personal motto of ‘Don’t talk about yourself.’

  Chris was certain, however, that “Sioux Falls” was a woman and not a man, not that Chris would have cared personally either way. But once on R&R Chris made the unfortunate mistake of going to look for Doc after they’d become separated in a dance club in Germany, and found his squad mate in a service hallway with a gorgeous blond’s even more gorgeous legs wrapped around his waist as he fucked her up against the wall. It had taken a few shots to overcome the sight of Doc’s bare ass that night, but the overall impression Chris had gotten was the blond was totally into it. And even though Chris had turned and was hastily headed back to the dance floor, he had been made all too aware that Doc was a gentleman, letting the lady in question come first.

  Whatever relationship Doc and “Sioux Falls” had, he apparently respected it enough to never warm the bed, or make use of a hallway, with any local girls at Maria’s. Doc was polite, flirted a little, but everyone knew Doc was not on the market. Once and only once, six months after Sioux Falls had become a twice a month excursion, Chris asked Doc if he was going to pack up and move there or if Sioux Falls was coming to Rapid City. Doc had smirked and shook his head, o
nly saying that neither he nor Sioux Falls were the settling down type.

  So for all their varied interests in women and the many pleasures they provided, Chris knew without a doubt that his orders would be taken seriously by his men.

  Chapter 6

  Chris had stepped into Maria’s at a little after nine, pretty much his usual for a Saturday night, and was surprised to find Slick there. As he walked past the bar to the tables he asked Maria, “She on nights now?”

  Maria shrugged. “As I need her. Amy’s getting less and less reliable the more she sees of that cowboy of hers, and Hayley’s quick to come in on short notice.”

  Chris nodded his understanding. “She working ‘til close?”

  “Just midnight.”

  He nodded again, located Hawk at one of the pool tables and headed that way. The place was packed, no doubt about that, but Hayley didn’t seem to have trouble keeping up. Chris nodded to Hawk as she made her way toward them. “Hey!” she called brightly. He smiled at her. “Get you anything?”

 

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