by J. C. Allen
As if to make a point, I nodded back to the blondes at the stand with Francis. I heard one of them say “Oh, my, God,” and the other respond in kind, and it took all my effort not to roll my eyes.
“Do you really think I have interest in nice hair and other physical features? It’s so shallowed. I’ve…”
I almost dropped that I’d been married, but that felt like a road not worth going down. Not for all of the questions it would lead to.
“I’ve never seen you as anything other than a soul worth talking to. I’m not bothered by your job either way, and I don’t care that this is what you do to get by. If I mind anything about it, it’s that you’re working for the Black Falcons, but that’s only because they’re dangerous to everyone involved.”
I had to take a moment to right my mind after thinking about the hell that those words brought to me. Eve looked like she did too.
“I understand that it’s not glamorous work. It’s rough on you, I’m sure—probably much, much rougher than it should be—and, well, I’d like to be able to provide you with some comfort after all that. I’d like to offer you what you’re missing.”
“What I’m missing?” she repeated
I had not thought about what that meant when I said it, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized even trips as rote as to a fast food joint were things she was missing out on.
“Yeah. You know, nice days out. Food. Desserts. Trips to local events. Maybe even trips to not-so-local events someday. And, you know…”
I nodded to her chest at the ruby-colored wings and necklace adorning her.
“And pretty jewelry.”
She blushed at that and kissed me. It was too sweet for me to feel anything but enormous connection to her.
“It’s still the nicest thing anybody has ever done for me.”
I guessed that, but for her to say that… Goddamn.
That needs to change.
“Come on,” I said, rising out of the bench and extending my hand forward.
“Huh?” she said, confused. “What is it? Where are we going?”
Someday, Eve, you’ll learn to stop asking that question and trust me, I thought with a smile.
“While I appreciate that I could do that for you, it’s a shame that a piece of jewelry passes for the ‘nicest’ thing someone’s done for you. Let’s go fix that.”
She stammered for a moment, as if she didn’t know how to react to this moment, let alone process it.
“Fix that? How so?”
“Easy,” I said.
I led her to the center of the Sundays in Samsville event, where a massive sign with distance posts pointed to various directions.
“You’re going to decide what we do for the rest of the day,” I said. “I may have to take you back at some point tonight, but I suppose that for the next two hours or so, you can have the reigns.”
I hadn’t made this decision in mind, but I realized after the fact that I had given her something even better jewelry, more priceless than any possession I could ever give her.
Control.
And maybe that control only lasted a couple of hours, and maybe she would have to have no control at night.
But goddamnit, if I could give her even just a sliver of it, just a glimpse of it, I would. It was the least I could do for a woman I was starting to…
Yes.
Love.
22
Eve
To say the day felt magical was an injustice to what had really happened. Magic implied you could write off what had happened to something you could see. I could not explain anything that had happened today.
I was Eve Kellerman, a girl unlucky enough to be born into a family with a terrible brother who had sold me into prostitution. These kinds of things just didn’t happen to me. They just… the idea that they could happen, even, was a non-starter.
And yet, here I was for an entire Sunday afternoon, walking around with Derek in his small hometown, exploring all he had to offer and all he had to share. Magical, as I said, wasn’t strong enough. It almost touched me in a spiritual way, to make me believe I was worthy of being loved again.
But, like all good things in my life these days, it had to get superseded by something else—the goddamn “day job.”
And so, at 3 p.m., I looked to Derek, sighed, and motioned we had to go.
“Give me a week,” he said. “And I’ll have you free. You have my word that that will be the case.”
I believed him fully. Every fiber in my being knew he was telling the truth. I just wished that this week would go by as quickly as it could, the better to ensure that we’d wind up together and keep letting this fantasy come true.
Crazy? Just a bit. But it was a necessary crazy for my state of mind—the alternative was probably me doing what the other two prostitutes had done just in the week before, overdosing on some drugs to end it. I was not suicidal, not with Derek around, but it wasn’t hard to rationalize nothingness being better than what Rock had done to us.
We slipped free from Sundays in Samsville and casually strolled back to his bike. The laid-back nature of things contrasted strongly against the usually hectic tone that my nights typically started with. He handed me the helmet and I watched as he straddled the motorcycle.
I enjoyed the sight a bit longer, mentally photographing it for me to “admire” later, and then settled in behind him. I moved my arms around his waist, relishing in how quickly the process had come to feel natural and right to me. It all felt right; felt comfortable and, best of all, without pressure.
It was just too bad that I had to end the day so soon.
To go back to being near Johns who wanted me only for money. Who would offer me nothing but cash I would never see anyways.
“I’d like to offer you what you’re missing… And, you know…”
In that moment he could have said anything. Hell, even with my weird, confusing thoughts surrounding sex, both in general and with him specifically, I found my body beginning to want him with an unusual degree of urgency. Perhaps I knew that Rock could go off at any moment, and that was overriding my drive to have a real relationship with him, to make sure we were for real and not just “the whore I didn’t have to pay,” as irrational as that sounded.
You’re not just a whore to him, I thought. And that means you’re not just a whore.
“You a whore or not?”
I no longer had the violent and depressed reaction to that question as I once had before. But I found myself yearning to having to avoid even thinking about that question, to be in a position where all I had to think about was how I would go about my day under my control, not Rock’s day under his strict orders.
I worked to completely forget about that other life. I told myself that I would never leave this bike, never not be holding this man who seemed to have it all figured out. Like the way he handled the machine that carried us through the early afternoon, he seemed to take life itself by the throttle and turn it however he pleased. I wanted nothing more than to stay on that motorcycle with that man forever, but…
But…
“Eve?”
“Huh?”
“We’re here,” Derek said.
And that was when I realized it: but the motorcycle had stopped, and the man had gotten up.
Nothing was forever. Especially the good things.
Blinking, I glanced up to see Derek’s worried gaze looking down at me. I chewed my lip, wanting to find some excuse that wouldn’t lead to me having to admit what I truly had been thinking. Not that I could even properly express exactly what I had been thinking. Either way, I’d definitely made an impression that Derek had noticed.
“I’m sorry,” I said, feeling my face tighten in embarrassment. “I got distracted.”
Derek nodded, looking embarrassed, too, but not for me. It was a look I had not expected, but now that I saw it, I remember seeing it one other time—at Waffle House when I’d asked if he had a significant other.
/> “It’s fine,” he told me. “Riding has a way of distracting me, too. Well, specific parts of riding at specific times.”
I wanted to press him on what that was, but I didn’t want to enrage him after such a lovely day. Not that I even thought he would get mad at me, but I sure as hell didn’t feel like pushing his buttons.
“Oh?” I said, relieved to know I wasn’t alone in that. “Were you distracted this time, too?”
“A little,” he admitted. “But not as much as I usually am.”
“Oh…” I said, not sure what to make of that. “Why do you think that is?”
A long pause came as he looked down the street. We were not quite at my usual corner—Derek probably had the good sense not to move so closely, especially since we didn’t have repeat customers that frequently at the corner—but I knew where we were and that it would only take me five minutes of walking. Given that it was fifteen minutes until my shift started, I knew that I wasn’t going to be in trouble.
Well, I wouldn’t rationally fear trouble. But I always feared trouble with the Black Falcons.
“Because of you,” he said, finally looking back at me and giving me a smile that was more relieved than joyful. I snapped back to attention and felt my stomach flutter. “And I don’t think that, I know that.”
I smiled back at that.
The entire afternoon, I’d been seeing him handling everything like a man who just seemed to ooze perfection and grace… but in a couple of fleeting moments, I felt like I had just gotten a glimpse of something as broken and uncertain as I’d been feeling. Somehow this made it all seem so much better; so much more perfect. Knowing that he had to work for all of this made it feel even more magical than something coming to someone who got it all their way naturally.
And now I had to go and spend the evening sucking cocks and pretending to orgasm from Johns.
Maybe my emotions ran too high. Maybe I’d reached my breaking point. Maybe I just didn’t care about anything in the world other than Derek, my future health and life included.
But I did something and suggested something that I could not say no to.
“Can we go to your place?” I blurted.
He glanced over, looking both surprised and relieved at the same time.
“You want to come over?” he asked. “I… I mean, there’s not really much to do there. And with this corner, I mean, if you’re late, that’s—”
“I don’t care,” I admitted. “I don’t care what we do, so long as I get to be with you. I know you’ll protect me, and if I have to never go back, then I’ll never go back. I don’t…”
I sighed.
“I just want to be with you, Derek. Nothing more. I don’t care about being a little late. I’ve been a good… employee for Rock. One time isn’t going to get me killed.”
It sure as hell better not. You’re out of your goddamn mind, Eve.
He stared at me, the surprise-relief combination growing stronger. I couldn’t blame him, but honestly, I just didn’t care anymore. I really didn’t. If I died, so be it. I could no longer fake doing the job of being a whore as I had the previous six months. At least I’d go out on a happy note.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“I don’t want you to feel obligated to do anything you don’t want to,” he said. “I’d rather you be safe, than—”
“I don’t,” I assured him, taking his hand. “Please, Derek. I really don’t want this to end. Even if we wind up falling asleep or just watching TV all night, I just want to finish off this night with you before I have to…”
I looked down, unable to finish. I could afford to be a little late, I figured. I might have just rationalized my own death, but so be it.
I could not, however, rationalize missing an entire shift. That was certain death.
But to just spend an hour over? To show up at 5 p.m.? Crystal could cover me. I’d owe her big time and would return the favor someday, but she would protect me as best as she could. Hell, I even anticipated getting abused, but it was…
You’re really into this guy, huh, Eve.
“Yeah. Okay,” Derek said with a nervous smile. “We can… um, I mean, hell, either of those sounds great, actually. You just let me know whenever you need to head back here. Or if you don’t want to at all. I mean, well—”
I giggled at his obvious nerves and rubbed his shoulders.
“That all sounds perfect,” I said. “I can’t spend the night. But let’s go relax for an hour. What say you?”
“I’ll be honest,” he started, handing me the helmet as he got back on the bike. “I’m glad you asked. I wasn’t ready for the night to end, either.”
I felt myself start to blush and, deciding I’d blushed in front of him enough that night, hurried to pull the helmet on.
But as I did, it occurred to me that I needed to tell him that I wasn’t going to have sex with him. Not because I didn’t like him—but because I did and I didn’t want to…
Well, my mind was so fucked I couldn’t make sense. But I just knew I wanted to get to know him more and feel more comfortable before we were intimate again. I just prayed he didn’t get angry and ask me why I would have slept with him after escaping the Black Falcons but not now, under more normal circumstances.
“It’s still alright if…” I said, surprised at the nervousness and uncertainty of my own words. Do you really want to pin yourself in this corner, Eve?
He glanced back, curious.
“Hmm?”
“It’s just, I mean… you wouldn’t be disappointed if… you know, something didn’t happen tonight?” I asked, trying to word it in such a way that, if I decided I wanted something to happen I wouldn’t wind up contradicting myself.
It was kind of pathetic, really, this game of verbal gymnastics, especially since I knew in my head what I wanted.
Derek shook his head and smiled reassuringly.
“I won’t say I don’t want something to happen, because I won’t lie to you, especially after how good you felt a few nights ago. But, no, I won’t be disappointed at all. If we got to my place and fell asleep on the couch I’d still consider this one of the best nights of my life. I’m here to spend time with you, Eve, and get to know you. If we click, the intimacy will come.”
I bit my lip at that, feeling like the answer was too good to be true; certain he was just saying this to make me feel better. I mean, Derek was still a man, and no man could just refuse sex or delay sex that easily.
At least, not in my own experience…
“So… how long would you be willing to date me if I wasn’t putting out?”
I hated to ask the question like that, because it implied I was going to hold out forever. That was laughably false—I was far more likely to put out this evening than make it another two dates. But I had to know.
He paused then, hand hovering over the motorcycle’s ignition, and seemed to genuinely think about that situation. Finally, he took a deep breath.
“Way I see it, there’s two options for me in that case. I can either go out and buy a hooker when the mood strikes or I can become bestest buddies with my hand.”
I blinked at that answer, strangely honored at the idea that he’d sooner pay a hooker to relieve his tensions than expect anything from me. Though I’d be lying to myself if I said that I wasn’t a little… OK, really jealous at the idea.
But there also seemed to be a missing third option, one that disgusted me when it came to mind, but, given it came to mind, I figured I might as well present it.
“Why not just pay me to be your whore if that’s what you need?” I asked.
He awkwardly turned to face me at that, looking shocked and disgusted. Now that was a Derek face that looked genuinely pissed off—I hoped not to see it ever again.
“Because,” he said, his tone already telling me from that word alone that it should be the most obvious thing in the world. “I will never treat you like a whore.”
I decided the
n that it was a good thing that I’d already put the helmet on, because the blush that took me then likely turned me the color of a boiled lobster.
Derek finally started the engine, and, with his words still ringing in my head, I leaned into him and hugged him.
I hugged him as if he was my pillar and bulwark against anything bad happening in the future, because that’s exactly what he was—perhaps my only defense against the beatings, abuse, and scorn thrown my way by Rock and his crew. I held on knowing full well that without him, I’d either be dead or soulless—and I wasn’t sure which was worse.
But mostly, I embraced him because I… liked him. And it took a lot to not admit to the real L-word I was thinking.
When he parked his bike, we quickly hopped off, hurrying to the elevator was if we didn’t have a moment to spare—which we didn’t, really. The doors opened, thankfully without some drunken fool again, and I leaned back against the wall.
It was only here that I realized that Derek had keyed in a floor that seemed private to him. Though I did not remember the place as especially luxurious, its location alone clearly signified something.
“You need a key just to use the elevator?” I asked.
“You do when you have your own private floor,” he answered with a smirk.
“Wow. Ritzy,”
“It was my brother’s place,” he explained. “I was a bit skeptical about moving here, but I guess it has its perks.”
Maybe it’s messy because that’s how his brother wanted it. It’s his way of keeping in memory of him.
That’s… kind of sweet.
“And the Saviors can afford all of this?” I asked.
“This and more,” he said. “I’m sure you don’t get to see it, but from what I hear the Falcons are doing really well, too. Contrary to the old line, crime does pay, and usually pretty well.”
I frowned at that, but decided not to tell him just how right he was in how little I saw of what was earned. I worried that even by his low standards for the Falcons, it would shock him. I suspected that credit card companies made more off of business fees than I did off of my actual services.
The elevator dinged then, and as the doors slid open, I blinked.