by Tracy Sharp
Just the look of him screamed pimp, and she couldn’t believe she hadn’t seen him as she’d entered the station. He had to have been in the bathroom. Waiting around for unsuspecting, hungry runaways was long, hard work. She could see where he’d need a piss break.
Robyn kept her eye on him, tapping away at the cell.
Scum found.
That didn’t take long, Toby responded.
The girl came out of the bathroom, an air of vulnerability hanging over her limbs like holiday tinsel. It was Christmas for predators. She was easy pickin’s.
Robyn watched as the scumbag made his move. His floor-length leather jacket creaked as he left his chair to approach the girl. She couldn’t be more than fourteen years old. She was huddled in a corner chair, her backpack under her feet and her arms wrapped around herself. The hoodie she wore looked thin and worn, hardly enough to keep the chill away. She hunched slightly into herself, as if she couldn’t warm up.
He sat down beside her, nodding politely, and pulled a wrapped sandwich from his pocket. He slowly unwrapped the cellophane, glancing at the girl, who was eyeing his sandwich hungrily.
“You hungry?” he asked her.
She stared at him for a moment, assessing him. Finally, she nodded.
He held the sandwich out to her. “Here. It’s not much, but it’s something.”
“I don’t want to take your sandwich, sir.” She was polite, her voice soft.
He lifted his chin, made a show of thinking. “I’ve got an idea.”
She lifted her eyebrows.
“How about you and me go over to that restaurant right across the street there. That way, we can both eat, and I can get you something hot. You look cold.”
The girl looked behind her, through the window at the diner. Glass surrounded the place, so anyone could see in if he tried any funny business. And wouldn’t it be rude to refuse, since the guy offered her his sandwich?
Robyn smirked. She could see this coming a mile away. The folks who worked at the diner had to know this guy well. She tapped out another message to Toby.
He’s making his move.
Good. The diner?
Yup.
Good. The soup is good here. And May wants to finish her shake and grilled cheese.
Robyn watched as the young girl nodded.
“Okay,” the guy said. He held out his hand. “My name is Ira. What is yours, young lady?”
“Norah.”
“Nice to meet you, Norah. We’ll get you something hot to eat, and then we’ll get you back here so you don’t miss your connection.”
Norah looked down, and the sadness that passed over her face broke Robyn’s heart.
“I don’t have a connection,” Norah said.
“Oh, well, we’ll get you a cab to your friend’s house.”
Norah’s eyes remained downcast.
“Family? Aunt? Uncle?”
This prick was good. Robyn’s blood boiled.
“I don’t have anywhere to go.”
“What?” Ira looked genuinely mortified. “Well, what do you plan to do, Norah? Just hang out here at the station?”
Norah nodded. “I’ll find a job, and then I can get a place.”
“Ah. Well, that’s a good plan.” Ira stood and held a hand out to her, helping her out of her chair. A real gentleman. “A real good plan. But…”
Norah looked at him. “But what?”
“Well, it’s kind of a dangerous place to hang out. There are lots of nasty sorts around here that are just looking for a young girl alone. It’s dangerous.” He slid a hand over Norah’s lower back, leading her toward the door.
“I can take care of myself,” Norah said, her voice filled with bravado that Robyn knew she didn’t feel. Hadn’t she been there herself?
They went through the door, their voices fading as they went out into the night.
Motherfucker, Robyn tapped out.
Smooth operator?
Oh, yeah.
Don’t worry, we’ll take care of it.
“Yes, we will,” Robyn said, under her breath.
†
Robyn sat in the truck, watching the diner. Every so often she turned the engine on to run the heat, just to remove the chill from the air. She had a bird’s-eye view of the inside of the diner, and the darkness shrouded her from the people inside.
Toby, Juno, and May sat at a table at the back of the diner. Toby looked out the window, grinned, and popped a fry in his mouth. May sipped her shake, looking happier than Robyn had seen her in ages. Because she feels a sense of family. It didn’t take much.
Robyn’s eyes narrowed as she watched while Ira and Norah were seated at a table beside the window. The pimp was in the process of sinking his claws into the poor, lost, young girl who had run away from God only knew what kind of situation at home.
“This is one girl you won’t be exploiting to make yourself some cash,” Robyn murmured.
Ira was a perfect gentleman. Handsome, well dressed, and in his thirties, he was everything a lost girl might grasp onto. He had a fatherly smile down pat, looked sympathetic as the girl talked, and created an air of familiarity by reaching out to touch her arm at well-spaced intervals. Robyn shuddered to think how many young girls he’d manipulated into trusting him.
Finally, Mr. Smooth-talker paid the check and came walking out with Norah, his arm around her like she was a walking bag of money, which to him she was.
A glance at the diner windows showed Toby digging into his jeans pocket and dropping money on the table. He lifted a sleepy May up and headed out the door with Juno close behind. To anyone else, it would look like a nice little family just heading back out into the night. Nothing else to do at the lengthening hour except drive home and tuck their beautiful little girl into bed.
I wish. A rogue memory of another baby girl who would never be tucked in again surfaced and Robyn shoved it away, taking a deep breath against the sharp jab of pain in her heart.
Robyn watched as Ira and Norah made their way across the street to his Escalade. She shook her head. “He’s despicable.”
“Yes, he is,” Toby said, climbing into the truck and slamming the door shut.
Robyn waited until May was safely strapped into the seat and Juno had climbed into the backseat beside her, then slowly pulled out of the parking lot of the bus station, following.
“What’s horrible is that this shit happens every day, and nobody seems to notice or care. That’s how these sleazeballs are allowed to keep doing what they do. They’re parasites.” Juno looked over at May, a startled look on her face. “Sorry, honey.”
“It’s okay,” May said sleepily. “I’ve heard badder words than shit.”
Robyn smiled. The kid was cool. “Worse words.”
“Worse words,” May repeated.
The world was ending, but somehow it still seemed important that May learn proper grammar.
She stayed two car lengths behind the Escalade. Ira didn’t seem to notice. Robyn could see him in his side mirror. His mouth kept moving.
The neighborhoods became seedier and more desperate looking the longer they drove. Robyn started worrying about having May in the area at all. She pressed the power-lock button just to be sure. The doors were locked. Still, it was amazing what a brick could do. Or the arm of a collector. She thought of the blonde, teenage girl who had put her hand through the passenger window to reach her, and a shudder went through her. She looked at Juno in the rearview mirror. “We’ll get Norah out of here and you can get her somewhere safe, then get May home. We’re going to take Ira and his car.”
Juno nodded. “Ira’s day is going to end badly.”
“Yes,” Toby said. “Yes, it is.”
The Escalade stopped in the driveway of a shoddy-looking house. By now Norah knew she was in trouble, because the passenger door shot open and she fell out of the car, trying to escape.
Toby jumped out of the truck, heading for the driveway, where Norah was now kicking and screa
ming. Ira held her arms pinned to her sides, dragging her toward the house.
Two huge dogs threw themselves against the metal fence, barking like it meant something.
“Hey!” Toby yelled.
Robyn turned to Juno. “No matter what happens, stay in the truck with May. Keep the doors locked.”
Juno nodded. “Don’t worry, I might not even open them for you in this place.”
Robyn jumped out of the truck and followed Toby, her pistol in her hand.
Ira turned to Toby. “What the fuck you doin’, man? Get the fuck outta here. This ain’t your business.”
“Oh, but it is.” Toby pointed his .38 at Ira’s head.
Norah screamed at the top of her lungs, and Ira punched the side of her head. “Shut up, bitch. I’m talking here.”
“Let her go,” Toby said.
“What? She your sister?” Ira said, a huge grin on his face. “Motherfucker, you better put that gun down, or you’re gonna be in a world of shit. You understand?”
The blind covering a front, barred window lifted. Shit.
Toby said, “I do understand. You need to understand something, too. If you don’t let her go, right now, I’m going to blow a hole in that Escalade of yours. Savvy?”
That gave Ira pause. “Oh, motherfucker. You do that, you’re dead.”
“Okay, then I’ll do it.” Robyn turned and blew a hole in the back windshield of the Escalade.
“What the fuck?” Ira let Norah go, and she ran screaming toward Robyn.
“Get over there by the truck. We’ll get you out of here.”
Norah took off toward the truck, her sobs coming out panicked and ragged.
“That was not cool, fucker. Not cool,” Ira said. He reached behind him and Toby shot him in the leg. Ira screamed. “What the fuck, man?”
“Get in the Escalade.” Toby pointed the gun at Ira’s head. “Now.”
“Look, take the bitch and go. I’ll settle up with you later.” Ira limped toward the house.
A window slid open and Robyn knew the situation had just gone from bad to worse. “Get down!”
Toby shot Ira in the shoulder. “Call off your dogs!”
Ira screamed, “Don’t shoot!” He grabbed his shoulder, choked out, “Motherfucker! Don’t shoot!”
“Okay, let’s see if I can say this in a way that you’ll understand,” Toby said calmly, pointing the gun at Ira’s other leg. “Get your punk ass in the motherfucking Escalade, motherfucker. Is that motherfucking clear enough?”
Robyn bit her lip. Adrenaline was ripping through her, but she wanted to laugh hysterically.
Ira stared at Toby, his face a mask of shock.
“First I’m taking your motherfucking gun,” Toby said. He walked over to Ira, who reached around again. Toby stopped, shook his head, and shot him in the other shoulder.
Ira screamed. A string of obscenities shot from his mouth.
“Motherfucker, you really don’t learn, do you?” Toby patted Ira down and came up with two guns. He grabbed him by the back of his coat collar, turned to the window, and shouted, “You shoot at me, you really will wish you hadn’t.”
The window slid down and the blind dropped.
“Looks like your friends learn faster than you do, Ira. Now move your ass.”
“What are you? Some kind of cop?” Ira was breathless, tripping as he tried to keep up with Toby’s shoving.
“Yeah. I’m the dirtbag pimp police. Move it.”
†
Robyn had Juno take Norah to a local shelter, where they would offer her some good resources and look into her home life. There wasn’t a guarantee that she wouldn’t run from there, but given the bad situation she’d found herself in earlier in the evening, it was likely she’d at least give it a try.
From there, Juno would take May back to her house. She’d had enough for one night. The kid needed sleep.
Robyn headed to Ira’s Escalade, where Toby already had him handcuffed in the backseat.
“You really are a cop,” Ira whined. “Man, come on. You’re really going to bust me?”
“You wish.” Robyn slid in beside him and gave him a grin that felt creepy even on her own lips.
“I used to be a cop, Ira. Now I just keep the cuffs around for fun. Like when I meet up with lowlifes like you that need taking care of.” Toby started the truck and pulled away from the curb, putting his foot into it before any of Ira’s friends decided to join in the fun.
†
Toby pulled into Zed’s driveway a half hour later.
Ira sat beside Robyn, the cuffs making him lean forward. He grimaced and screamed through gritted teeth.
Robyn smiled, knowing the pain had to be terrible.
When Ira opened his eyes, they shifted around the area, his mind obviously working a mile a minute. “Come on, man. You really gonna kill me for this?”
“We probably won’t have to. At the rate you’re bleeding, you’ll likely bleed out before we even get to our destination.” Robyn kept the gun pointed at his head. “But on the slim chance that you don’t, why shouldn’t we? What could you possibly say to change our minds? It’s just business? Nothing personal?”
Ira’s face was ashen with fear. “You really think killing me is going to make a difference?” He chuckled. “Lady, I’m just one of thousands of dudes in this business. You won’t even make a dent.”
Robyn felt the disgust pull her face into a frown. “That’s your defense? You’re just one of thousands? So we should just let you go? Really?”
Toby laughed, shook his head, and stepped out of the truck. He came around Ira’s side and opened the door, leaning in and looking him in the eye. “You’re going to have to do a lot better than that, Ira. Seriously.”
Toby grabbed Ira by the cuffs and pulled up, making him lean further forward, leading him to the barn.
“Aw, shit,” Ira whined, his voice laced with panic. “You’re not really going to kill me, right? You just want to scare me. Look, I never killed anybody. Just trying to make a living.”
“Right. Just trying to make a living off the bodies of young girls,” Robyn spat. “You’re a parasite, Ira. You’re disgusting.” She pulled the door of the barn open.
Toby shoved Ira through the door. Ira stumbled, almost falling, and staggered around. His eyes skittered over the walls. There were many empty spaces on the walls where Zed’s weapons had hung before they’d raided the place. But there were many left. Most of the weapons with triggers were gone—guns, flamethrowers, and the like—but that left some nasty-looking knives. Modified knives, axes, swords. Blades of all kinds, all sharpened to a razor edge.
“Wow! We’re in luck,” Robyn smiled. “We get to try out these cool blades on you.”
Ira’s eyes were bulging out of his head. “What? What are you two? Some kind of vigilante psychos? This ain’t just about taking a pimp off the streets, is it? You two wanna play.”
“You bet,” Toby said, a smile stretching his face.
Robyn walked over to the wall and made a show of trying to decide which blade she wanted to use on Ira. She tilted her head and tapped her foot. “Hmm. Decisions, decisions.”
Ira watched her, his face turning white. “Aw, come on now.” His breaths were coming out short and fast. “Come on. You don’t wanna do this. For real?”
“Oh,” Robyn said, still perusing the wall. She reached out and gently stroked the blade of a curved sword. “But we do.”
“For real,” Toby added.
A dark stain spread over Ira’s crotch and moved down his pant legs. “Shit. This ain’t right.”
“No? What about tricking vulnerable young women? Selling their asses on the street to make a buck? What about that?”
“Okay. Okay. You’re right. I’m disgusting. No argument. Okay? But that isn’t murder. You kill me, that’s murder. That’s a serious crime.” The fake street talk had vanished. Ira was begging for his life.
“Oh, you say po-tay-to, I said po-tah-to.” Rob
yn lifted the sword off the wall and did a few practice swings, cutting through the air.
Ira flinched back. “Shit.”
“Actually,” Toby said, “you say po-tay-to. I’ve heard you. Remember at the diner the other day?”
“Oh yeah. Whatev.” Robyn came within swinging distance of Ira. “This should be good. Right about here. What do you think, Toby?”
“Hmm.” It was Toby’s turn to tilt his head. “Maybe go back a couple of steps, because you’re gonna want to take a few quick steps forward before you swing. You want to get your momentum up so that the cut is cleaner.”
“Wait!” Ira dropped to his knees. His body trembled. Sweat had popped out on his face, leaving an uneven sheen. “Wait. I’ll do anything. Anything. You must want something. Everyone wants something.”
Robyn hesitated, the sword swung back and hovering to her right. “Anything?”
Ira nodded, his head bobbing quickly. “Anything. What do you want?”
“You’d give anything to stop me from killing you?” Robyn asked him. She let the sword swing downward and approached Ira, squatting down in front of him. “Anything?”
“Anything I have to give. What I don’t have, I’ll get.”
“You do have something I might be willing to trade.” Robyn leaned forward, looking Ira in the eyes.
“I do? What is it? It’s yours,” Ira whispered.
“Your soul,” Robyn said.
Ira stared at her. He blinked. “My… soul?”
“Yes.”
“You want me to trade my soul to you, and you won’t kill me?”
Robyn smiled. “Exactly. I’m collecting souls from scumbags. For the devil. You could call me a collector. But the deal is, you get out of the business. You are no longer a pimp. You get that?”
Ira nodded. “Yeah. I get it.”
“You find another line of business. I find out you’re pimping again, we will bring you back here. The devil likes sacrifices, but he does prefer souls.”
“Yeah,” Ira said. “Sure. You can have my soul.”
Robyn gave him a smile that made him shrink back, almost falling sideways.