by J. C. Allen
Which meant…
The window rolled down, revealing a bald man in sunglasses. Even with the black lids over his eyes, I recognized him immediately.
He was one of Rock’s cronies who would wait for us on the street corner.
“Get in. Now.”
He opened the door, and the gun was visible in his lap without me even looking. I stuffed my phone into my purse, praying suddenly they didn’t demand to see it—not that I had ever texted or called Derek, but still…
It never takes much for Rock to lose his mind and thus for me to lose my life.
Crystal and I slid into two seats in the limo, and though my peripheral vision only showed me his pants at first, I didn’t need to see more to know that I’d gotten into the limo of Rock. My glance up confirmed as much.
He sat there in a white suit, arms crossed, with two of his minions by his side. He had absolutely no qualms having his gun visible, and the two bodyguards had even less shame about it, their guns all but ready to launch bullets into our skulls with one wrong word.
Or, really, just one word, period.
He just snarled at us as we got in. I didn’t dare look over at Crystal, but I could feel her body shaking. I did my best to control my own, but I had a feeling it wasn’t enough.
I had a feeling nothing we did would be enough. We were going to die.
There was no other way around it. Rock never did anything like this. If he had to see us, we were either dragged violently to a blackened room or he met us on the street corner. Pulling us in like this… I suspected this meant that we were about to be shot and our bodies needed to be driven somewhere where they’d never be seen again, like the bottom of the ocean.
At least I would die having had one last night believing in romance. I would die believing that love—yes, love—was possible. I would die on the best note possible.
Just don’t think about how Derek was supposed to be here now. And if he was, you wouldn’t be in the jaws of death.
“As you surely know, last night, a member of a rival gang infiltrated our fundraiser and killed one of my men,” Rock said.
I swear just hearing his words were poisonous—he wasn’t just a snake with venom; the very sound waves he produced made my skin boil and my blood weaken.
At least he hasn’t pulled the trigger yet.
Stay strong. Don’t show weakness. Not anymore than you have to to survive.
“Of greater concern for you two, however, is that neither of you were anywhere to be found,” Rock said, his eyes leering to us.
Oh shit. Of course he would know. You better come up with a convincing lie or just not say anything at all.
Wait…
Neither of us?
So I wasn’t the only one who was missing then…
“Talk. You both better have a really fucking good reason for being gone before I suspect one of you helped this piece of shit. And you know what happens to suspected traitors—it doesn’t start with your death, but it sure as hell will end with it.”
Neither of us dared to open our mouths. Was this a test? Was this a game? Was this—
The click of a gun told me everything I needed to know.
“When, when all of that happened… a J-John grabbed m-me,” Crystal said. I didn’t dare interrupt, not when Crystal’s true story could be my false cover. “H-he gave me a thousand and said come. A-and I thought y-you’d like… like that.”
“Show me, now.”
On cue, Crystal pulled out a thousand dollars. I felt a bit worried that the money Derek had given me, which was more than Crystal’s, would lead to questioning, but a thousand bucks for Rock was enough to qualify as a good evening no matter the circumstances.
“You got three seconds to show me something like that, whore,” he said, looking my way to leave no doubt who the message was for.
Though the threat of death was imminent, it left me immense relief to know he—at least not yet—wasn’t asking for my alibi.
It confirmed my suspicion. Rock didn’t care what we did as long as we had the green at the end of the night. I had to fight to not show my relief for how drastically better I felt in that moment.
I hurried to go through my purse and pulled out about two grand worth of bills. I saw Rock eying up Crystal as he counted the money, obviously aware that I had procured much more than she had. It wasn’t that I was always better—actually, Crystal usually made more money than I did given her utter shamelessness—but it didn’t take “overall,” it just took “now.”
Rock counted the money again and glared at us, as if he wanted just a single excuse to kill us. Have us slip up and say that the money was fake. Or that we’d stolen it from him. Or just, hell, that we could have gotten more.
“You two are nothing but whores,” he growled, careful to emphasize “nothing but whores.” “And whores are nothing more than products to make money. To that end… that’s all I give a shit about. You are nothing but revenue to me. The minute you stop being so, you are dead.”
He nodded to the door of the car, and the guy who had ordered us in stepped out, hiding his gun, letting us leave.
“Make me money. And never fuck a goddamn Savior.”
With that, the goon dragged me out, throwing me onto the sidewalk, then doing the same with Crystal before the limo sped off, just barely missing my leg lying on the street.
I almost broke down crying in relief. We had not died. We had survived. We had faced Rock in a moment of vengeful hatred and we had lived.
“We gotta go, girl,” Crystal said, but even her voice was wavering.
And it was then that I remembered the cruel part of being a whore.
There was no time to reflect or decompress.
There was only time to fuck, suck, and take it painfully up the ass. Failure to do so meant a failure to live.
3
Derek
For all of the ideas that Roost and I bounced off of each other and for all of the possibilities that seemed available now that Rock had become more public, nothing we came up with seemed that appealing.
All of our plans featured one or more of the following faults—Saviors would die; the public and police would get dragged in, dampening our future prospects; the plan didn’t go far enough to ensure Rock’s death; or Saviors would get kidnapped, which might have been a worse fate than death in some spots.
There was also another mitigating factor that I hadn’t really bothered to consider as possible beforehand but Roost’s intel left little doubt of—the Black Falcons, in response to my actions from the night before, had put a five-figure bounty on my head. Needless to say, for anyone except Rock and perhaps anyone who might be above him, that was life-changing money—or at least vacation-changing money, more than enough to get his goons going.
“No matter how much they gon’ suffer in their business,” Roost said. “They ain’t gonna stop till yer’ dead. Rock’ll break every goddamn skull in this here city if he can get to yer ass in the process.”
Rock had always been a dangerous and deadly human—one I didn’t need any reminders of to be aware—but now, the tiger had become desperate, his claws sharp, bearing his teeth, his fur standing on their ends.
The worst part, I realized, was how this might effect Eve. She was dead if anyone in the Black Falcons could associate her with me. But I still had to see her—I had no choice in the matter, that was all but a goddamn given. To continue without seeing her might as well have been like getting a bite of a lifetime supply of steak, only to deliberately cut myself off from it.
Even that analogy wasn’t complete, given I could always eat other food but I had never met anyone like Eve since… well, since the day Rock became my greatest enemy.
After a long while, both Roost and I came to the same conclusion.
“We only killin’ this asshole if opportunity gon’ favor us right now,” Roost said. “Too dangerous to go out in the open.”
“Seems that way, doesn’t it,” I said.
“We still can’t wait much longer,” I added, thinking about the safety of Eve. “I’m not willing to wait.”
“Ya may not have a choice,” Roost said.
I waited for him to punctuate his statement with a laugh. He did not so much as even crack a smile. War, it seemed, was coming.
For at least an hour, though, I had a more pressing concern to make up—I had to apologize for leaving Eve out to dry.
My disguise from the night before was still somewhat good, given that it had not just involved a change in eye color and hair color but a trimming of my beard, which gave me some faith that I could fake buying Eve for some quiet time. It would lose its value quickly—especially given that, I suspected, very few Johns rode bikes over to the street corners—but I suspected I could get away with it at least once.
And by suspected, I really just meant hope. Because if I didn’t, this would all come to a head faster than even my foreboding prognosis suggested.
I at least gave it until sunset, allowing the darkness of the night and the shadows cast by the street lamps to give me an additional layer of security.
Roost gave me a look when he saw me leaving, but I just pretended not to notice him. I didn’t need the “told ya so” conversation right after he had basically warned me I was the most wanted man in the streets. That, and I needed a break from his unusual seriousness that he had ended the conversation on.
I jumped on my bike, ignited the engine, and peeled out of the store with a roar.
As always, there was no time in which I felt more free than when I was on the back of my bike, at night, and without much of a destination to go to. I was going to get Eve, but after that? I had some ideas, but I didn’t have a set plan. That freedom—and the means with which I would explore it—were rare opportunities I did not let pass by.
The wind blowing on my face, even in the face of this oppressive heat, did not feel like the fires of hell, but rather, the warm embrace of options. The speed with which I drove through the streets didn’t feel out of control, but like I was pushing myself to the limit. The sharp turns I took, once a half-dare to kill myself with them, now just felt like an adrenaline rush to further tap into this thing called life.
Funny how it had all changed so quickly. Funny how, just days ago, I silently wouldn’t have minded if I skidded out on one of those turns, especially without a helmet.
Funny how the images of Maggie, even when I stopped, did not come so readily.
That wasn’t to say that I never saw her. I still had those visions of walking into my room and seeing her bloodied body on the bed. But before they could get weird, or haunting, or terrifying, they ended—and not just because I had the wherewithal to collect myself and keep moving.
I just genuinely did not think of her as much as before.
If this made me a bad person…
Maggie would understand. She’d want you to be happy. She’d want you to find someone else. She knows you’ll never lose someone else like her, but that doesn’t mean you can’t love someone new in their own way.
Hah. Love. Look at me. Already thinking that word. Easy there, Derek. Let’s reign those intrinsic desires in just a bit, shall we? Still a long way to go with Eve before you say that.
And yet, I could not help but think that even if it was a long way to saying such a thing to Eve, the road had no obfuscation, no clouds, and no blocks that would otherwise make it difficult to see when such a time might come.
Crazy. My life is in even more danger than just days before and I’ve thought of my wife and my child less and less.
And yet, I daresay I might even call myself just a bit happy.
I even let myself smile at the thought.
The smile faded as I turned the corner to Eve, trying to pull up as casually as I could. As expected, she was there, wearing a pink bikini top, fish net leggings, and torn jean shorts that didn’t really cover much. It was strange how I could find Eve the person so sexy and yet Eve the prostitute did not even make my dick two percent harder.
“How ya doin’, sugar?”
I hated myself for speaking like this. I hated that for the time being, we’d have to fake a customer-prostitute transaction for prying eyes. I hated that it felt like not only was I lying to Eve, I was lying to her face—I didn’t even have the courtesy to sneak around and stab her in the back.
And by the look on her face—the scowl that flickered just long enough to see it before it got replaced by a fake, “business-like” smile—she knew it too.
“Oh, hooooney, I am doing marvelous now that you—you!—are here!”
I deserve every bit of shaming she’s sending my way. For leaving her out to dry? I’m a terrible human being.
At least I’m trying not to be now. And at least she’s still alive.
“I’m just as glad as you, sugar,” I said. I almost broke character to call myself a fucking idiot. I did—just not to the public eye to see. “Listen, how much for an hour of you to do whatever I want?”
“Hmm, whatever you want?” she said, batting her eyelashes. “I don’t know, my time is very precious, you know, I’d hate for people to waste it or leave me doing nothing.”
Ouch. But this is all fully deserved and you know it, idiot. See how it goes if Roost or one of your boys winds up being late.
“How does two hundred sound?” I said, knowing full well that got me more than an hour.
“Well, for that kind of cash, honey, I’ll be whatever you want me to be!”
I felt like she had rehearsed that line ad naseum the way she delivered it almost perfectly. It was both applause-worthy and more than a little sickening for how much it meant she had to have practiced it.
“Hop on, babe,” I said, winking.
For only a split second, I saw her drop her expression, but it came back quickly enough. Still, in that moment, I knew I was about to get kicked in the balls—which still probably wasn’t enough for what kind of stress and hell I had undoubtedly put her through.
Nevertheless, she hoped on the bike, I let out a fake Dukes of Hazzard type of laugh, and sped off to the Waffle House—it was the first thing that came to mind, what could I say—to give us some privacy.
As soon as we stopped, I felt a sharp knee to my side.
“I deserved that,” I said, grimacing, just glad she had avoided my still-sore ribs. I gotta get that checked out.
“I thought I was going to die today!” she growled, but she softened a bit when she followed it up with, “But I’m glad you’re here.”
“Look, I fucked up,” I said. It’s not like anything I said could ameliorate the situation, but at least I could make amends for the future. If she would still give me that future. “I slept in. I’ll just be honest. I don’t have any good excuse. I’m a terrible person and I’m sorry.”
She still looked as frustrated as hell. As well she should. If I had gotten caught up in a shootout with the Falcons, or if someone had demanded my presence from the Saviors, that would have been one thing.
But to sleep in? That was the kind of thing lazy college students pulled. I was a grown ass man who ran a gang—there was no room for that kind of sloth and ineptitude.
“It’s OK,” she said. “I… Rock came and grabbed me earlier.”
Just like that, my mood switched from sorrow to barely controlled rage. “Rock” might as well have been a synonym for “Satan” and “shithead.” Nothing brought me to anger faster than hearing that name, even if seconds before I’d felt like the worst person in the world.
Because Rock truly is the worst person in the world.
“He grabbed Crystal, my, uhh, coworker I guess you could say, and I and put us in a limo. He was ready to kill us if we couldn’t come up with an alibi. Fortunately, Crystal spoke first and we both had cash. He didn’
t ask about you.”
There was some measure of relief—no, actually, there was an enormous amount of relief in that. It meant that Eve’s connection to me was not fully known by the Black Falcons yet.
But we had both dodged bullets, in her case almost too literally, and I knew that bullet time didn’t last forever. Eventually, our luck was going to run out.
“Rock seems to be losing it, Derek,” she said. “I don’t know what he has out for you beyond what you’ve told me, but I haven’t seen him like this. He’s always evil, but it’s usually been controlled evil. This is going to get worse. He’s… he’s going to come after you.”
I sighed.
“I’m all too familiar with that,” I said, though I didn’t elaborate for Eve’s sake. I didn’t want her to see me in such a weak state—nor did I really think it was a bright idea to talk to my newfound romantic interest about my prior relationships. “But don’t you worry about me. I’ve been dealing with the Falcons for years now and dealt with the dark side of the streets since I was a kid. Pops and my brother taught me well. If I have to wear disguises to see you, so be it.”
The smile on her face was the first one that had shown up since I picked her up.
“So you still want to see me?”
I couldn’t help the laughter that followed. It wasn’t laughter at her—more like the relieved laughter that followed when one realized their worst fear wasn’t coming true. No, Eve was not going to abandon me. And I wasn’t going to abandon her.
“Of course I want to see you!” I said when I calmed down. “I’m sorry I had to pretend to be an asshole creep back there, but I have a part to play.”
“As do I,” she said with a sigh.
“But you won’t have to for long,” I said. “I swore to you before and I swear to you now, Eve, that I will get you out of the Black Falcons. I don’t know how we’re going to do it, but we’re going to do it. Whatever it takes. I might even go so far as to say that killing Rock has taken a back seat to rescuing you.”