Evan Arden 02 Otherwise Occupied (4 page)

“What?” I asked.

“You were out in the middle of fucking nowhere and you still got laid?”

I smirked.

“Now
that’s
custom!”

Jonathan had worked in an auto shop prior to his first stint in prison for dealing.  He specialized in tricking out people’s cars with all kinds of shit, so anything remotely out of the
ordinary was always “custom.”  It was mostly his code word for anything he thought was worthy of his admiration.

“I need some
deets, brotha!”

I rolled my eyes.

“You that interested in what my cock does?” I asked.

“I just don’t understand how you manage to get pussy to fall into your lap no matter where you go.
”

“It’s a gift,” I replied.

Jonathan shoved the truck back into gear and started backing out.

“So who was she?” he asked.

“Just some chick lost in the desert,” I told him.  “Her boyfriend, or whatever, was an asshole and dropped her off on the road when they were fighting.  She didn’t have anywhere to go and it was getting late, so she spent the night riding my cock.  That’s it.”

“Custom.”

“Worked for me.”  I leaned back and let the smoke from his cigarette waft around me.  I didn’t indulge anymore myself, but I liked getting some second-hand every once in a while.  As much as Jon lit up, I probably smoked a couple cigarettes worth any given hour I was with him.

“How was she?”

“Fucking fine!” I responded.

We both had a good laugh until Def
Leppard started playing, and Jonathan quickly turned up the volume and started air jammin’ at red lights.  I stared out the window at the line of people waiting for Garrett’s Popcorn and tried not to let thoughts of Lia invade my head too much.  If I did, I’d start regretting shit, and I tried not to do that.

Jon followed me up to my apartment
, and we immediately started researching Brad Ashton.  There was so much shit on him, it was hard to separate the real stuff from the gossipy crap, but we started with the basics.

He was twenty-
nine years old, born in Australia, six feet tall, blond hair, and grey eyes.  Though he made himself famous with action films, he had his start in the porn industry, and I had to admit some of the footage made me feel a little uncomfortable.

Maybe
it was because Jon was watching it with me.

“Do
you really have to play more of that?” I asked as he flipped from a scene with one pair of writhing bodies on a bed to a video with two pairs.

“It’s pretty good,” Jonathan said. 
“Might have to download a full copy of this one.”

I shook my head a little, but my mind was wondering about the possibility of Bridgett spending the night again. 
I must not have hated the porn too much.  I was going to have to take a little trip later.

I’m going to kill a guy I’ve w
atched fuck two sorority chicks and a frat boy.

Shaking my head again didn’t seem to completely rid my mind of the thought, so I headed to the kitchen and popped open a couple of beers.

“Here’s his schedule of appearances,” Jon said as he yanked a piece of paper from my printer.  “He’ll be here in the city three times between now and February.”

“Not gonna kill him
here,” I said.  I silently berated myself for saying
gonna
.  The nuns would have smacked my mouth for such abuse of the English language.  I blamed Jonathan’s influence.  The “Midwest meets southern twang” of his was addictive.  “I think away from here will be better.  There are ties to Rinaldo with anything done in Chicago, and I want nothing to look suspicious.  Where else is he going to be?”

We went over all the various options and finally decided Atlanta w
as the place.  He’d be there the first week of January, and that was when he was going to die.

Jonathan headed out, and I fed Odin and tossed his rubber bone around for a while.  He actually got tired of the game before I did, which reminded me that he wasn’t a young pup anymore.  He’d be nine in the spring, which
was getting up there for a good-sized dog like him.

I rubbed my eyes
; it was getting late, and I was tired.  After I tossed the beer bottles in the recycling bin and drank one of those protein shakes, I headed off to bed.  Odin followed, whining slightly.  I gave his head a rub, but he just kept looking at me.

I peeled off my shirt, dropped my jeans, and tossed all of it into the hamper next to the dresser.  My watch and keys went in one of those little ceramic
bowls for such things, which made them clang against the set of dog tags on a chain coiled up at the bottom of the dish.  With a heavy sigh, I lay down in the bed and stared at the ceiling until my eyes couldn’t stay open any longer.

On my stomach…unable to bring my knees
to my chest to try and right myself.  There’s something cutting into my wrists – wire or those plastic ties – I’m not sure which.  It’s pitch black, and I can’t even hear anything around me.  The sand below me is cold, and I think I might be underground.

Minutes.
  Hours.  Days.

I can’t tell the difference.  I try to swallow, but I don’t even have enough saliva left to do that.  I’m going to die of dehydration, and I wonder if it’s a blessing.

Footsteps.  Loud voices speaking in Arabic.  I can’t make out enough of the words to make any sense of it.  I hear and feel a presence beside me just before I’m grabbed by the neck and forced into a kneeling position.  Water is poured over my face, and my mouth opens to receive it before it can choke me…

Sweat
was pouring into my eyes as I woke with a start.  My breath was coming in short, staccato gulps, and my hands were shaking.  Odin was there beside the bed, whining slightly.  I should have reached down to him, but I couldn’t move.

Why?  Why now?  I had barely thought about any of it in
over a year.

I wiped sweat from my forehead before I shuffled over to the bathroom to wash my face.  I stared at myself in the mirror and kind of hated what I saw looking back at me.  I was pale, and it made my dark blue eyes stand out in my face like I was in shock or something.

Maybe I was.

I reached up and rubbed at the back of my hair.  It was getting to be kind of long for me, and I decided
midnight was as good a time as any to give myself a trim.  The clippers were in the linen closet, and within a few minutes I had a haircut that would make any Marine officer proud.  It was very short around the sides and the back with just a little more on the top.

It also seemed to make
my dark blond hair look a lot lighter and kind of reminded me of how it would look in the summer when it got all bleached out in the sun and from the chlorine in the community pool.  I shaved my face while I was at it, too.  I hated having a face full of itchy scruff.

Odin sneezed behind me, and bits of hair flew up into the air.  I brushed some of the hair bits from my shoulders, but I started to itch anyway.  Once I cleaned up the mess I made on the floor, I jumped in the shower to get the rest off of my skin.

I found myself out on the balcony staring across the buildings towards Lake Michigan.  I was wide awake, and I knew sleep wasn’t going to come very easily.  It was just a bit past one in the morning, and I didn’t have any early morning plans other than some more research and the usual jog with the dog.  I thought about ordering a pizza, but all the good places that delivered would be closed.

Some company would be nice.

A few minutes later, I was in the Mazda, heading to a particular street corner.

Her pimp was there, but I didn’t see Bridgett.  I had been telling myself the whole way over that I was coming out to get
a
hooker, not that
particular
hooker.  That didn’t seem to stop me from looking for her as soon as I pulled up.

“Mister Arden!”
the pimp called towards my open window.  His collection of ridiculous gold chains hung down, and I tensed a little.  If it scratched my car, I’d kill him.  “Pleasure seeing you again.  You going to become a regular of mine?”

“Depends,” I said noncommittally.  “Where’s Bridgett?”

“Blowing some dude in the alley,” he replied.

I nodded as I ignored the creepy feeling the thought and mental image gave me.  She was a hooker, for Christ’s sakes.  Of course she was blowing a guy in the alley.

“You wanna wait?” the pimp asked.  He took a half step back away from the paint job, which helped me relax a bit.  “Maybe you wanna taste of Candy over here?”

Another slim brunette sauntered over with her hips swaying.  She gave me a big smile and a show of tit
s as she leaned over the car, practically crawling up on the hood.  Long legs, nice shape, cute as hell, but she had a totally flat ass.

Definitely not my type.

“I can wait a minute,” I replied with a shrug.  Candy pouted and licked her lips at me as she backed up onto the sidewalk again.

After about three minutes
, Bridgett appeared from the darkness of the alley behind the liquor store.  It was getting to be damn cold out, but that didn’t stop her and her coworkers from wearing those skimpy hooker outfits.  The cold was making her nipples practically leap right out of her tank top.

“Bridgett!” the pimp yelled out. 
“Git yer ass over here!”

She walked up to him and handed him a wad of cash.  He counted it carefully, jammed his finger under her chin
, and said something in a voice too low for me to hear.  She shook her head quickly in response, and he took a step back and pointed to my car.

She climbed in and settled into the
leather seat.

“All night?” she asked quietly.

“That’s how I roll,” I answered.

She gave the pimp some hand signal, and I drove away from the curb.

“It’s a little late for a good night’s sleep,” she said.

“What do you mean?”  I turned around and started heading back to my apartment.

“Last time you didn’t even fuck me,” she reminded me.  “We just slept.”

“You blew me.”

“You could have gotten that for a lot less cash.”

“Maybe I’ll make up for it tonight.”
  I glanced over at her and half grinned.

We didn’t say much the rest of the trip back to my apartment.  Everything was closed, so we didn’t make any detours or anything
, either.  Odin was waiting by the door when we came in, and she reached out and touched his nose.

Odin sneezed at her before he walked back to his dog bed and flopped down.  I snickered as I
headed into the kitchen and got myself a beer.  I offered one to Bridgett, but she declined.

I wondered if she was actually old enough to drink.

I popped open the bottle and took a long pull from it.  Bridgett looked at me, and I was trying hard to figure out her expression.  She seemed almost shy, and it wasn’t just her general newness to the oldest profession but something else.

Her cheeks suddenly darkened in a blush.

Holy shit.

You have to be kidding me.

She had some kind of crush on me, and now that I was paying attention, it was obvious.  Take the girl off the streets where she’d been hurt and treat her nice for a few hours, and suddenly you were some kind of goddamned hero.

“We’re just fucking here, Bridgett,” I said darkly.
  I narrowed my eyes and tilted my head a little to the side.

She blinked a few times before licking her lips nervously.

“I…I know that.  What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean.
  You keep that shit up, and I’ll pass you over for another bitch.  We clear?”

She nodded slowly.
  I could feel the tension rise in the room, and knew I had taken the whole warning thing overboard.  I probably could have blamed it on the lack of sleep, but it still needed to be said.  I didn’t want her thinking this hookup was going to change into something else.

“Good,” I said
.  I watched her as I drained the beer.  “Now get in my bedroom and take your clothes off.”

I followed on her heels, glad to see she wasn’t wasting any time when she passed
through my bedroom doorway.  As soon as she was inside, she pulled her top up and over her head and then looked at me over her shoulder with one of those little, secret smiles hookers thought they could get away with, but they couldn’t.  I smiled back anyway as I moved across the room and sat on the edge of the bed to take off my boots.

“Keep going.
” I nodded towards her.

I pulled my shirt off as well, and Bridgett took a couple of steps to the side until she was standing right in front of me.  She rubbed her hands down her sides and moved her hips as she leaned over a little to unzip her mini skirt.

“You can take the shoes off, too,” I said.