The King and the Courtesan (45 page)

“You mean…”

I closed my eyes. When I opened them, Mimi was watching me.

“What?” I asked.

“Why are you cutting back on the dust? Don’t you have all you ever wanted?”

My new dust regimen had started just a few days ago. As much as I wanted to flush it all down the toilet, I knew extreme withdrawal would be too obvious. My sleep cycle was uneasy, I thought of dust often, and every now and then my hands would shake, but I was keeping it together. I had no other choice—my self-preservation relied upon it.

“It’s keeping me trapped,” I said, glancing toward the kitchen. Mimi had somehow convinced Victor to do her dishes. He’d grumbled about not signing up to be a maid, but when I asked him nicely, he agreed to do it. He wasn’t the sweet man Roger was, but he didn’t terrify me like Bruce and Garrett did. “It’s just one more thing Ezekiel can use to control me.”

“I’m glad you’re cutting back but…you don’t look good at all. I’m worried.”

“I get it, Mimi. You’re always worried.” I rolled my eyes and changed the subject. “I talked to Yogi.”

“Oh?”

“She’s doing well. Thomas has a very nice house in a good neighborhood.”

“Yes, I visited a few weeks ago. She’s happy. I was surprised. I never expected that sort of business arrangement to work. And maybe I should give it a few more years before I applaud its success, but for the moment, it’s what Yogi needs. She always wanted those hormones. She just couldn’t afford them.”

“Never thought someone would be so happy over boobs,” I chuckled. “I always thought mine were kind of a pain.”

“Yeah, shoulda just given her mine,” Mimi said with a smile. “She can have my periods, too.”

We both giggled over that. Victor emerged from the kitchen and sat down in an armchair, putting his feet up on the footrest.

“That TV work?” he asked, pointing to the TV.

“Yeah.” Mimi turned it on with the remote. “Anything you wanna watch?”

“The game would be great.”

I decided to slip into my PJs. I had to act like this was just a night like any other. But this was going to be the most dangerous night of my life.

* * *

It was around one in the morning when I slipped out of my room. Mimi’s bedroom door was closed. I could see Victor’s form snoozing in the armchair. The TV still flickered, this time with an infomercial selling cookware. I pulled my winter coat tight around me and walked softly toward the front door. I was wearing some clothes borrowed from Mimi, worn-in old jeans and a sweatshirt she’d kept from her high school days. The coat was hers. So were the shoes. I couldn’t be positive none of them were bugged, but I didn’t think Ezekiel was
that
obsessed with spying on me. And if they were bugged, well…it wasn’t like he wouldn’t kill me later if this plan failed.

I took the two twenties from Mimi’s wallet for taxi fare. She’d probably notice later, but by that time, I’d be gone and she’d assume it was a pickpocket. I’d buy her something to make up for it later.

I called a taxi from the pay phone on the street corner outside. Few taxis came to Metro at this time of night. The driver was tattooed and smoking a cigar, seemingly unfazed by the time and the neighborhood. He ignored me except to accept the money at the end of the ride, and then he drove away with a squeal.

I glanced both ways down the empty, dark street, jumping when I heard two cats dart out of an alley, yowling and leaping mid-fight. Taking a deep breath, I ascended the front steps and pressed the button I knew from memory. I hoped he hadn’t moved.

When there was no response, I pushed the button a few more times. It was cold out, and this wasn’t the best street to be on at one o’clock in the morning. This was gang country. I was staring at the way my breath curled like smoke in the chilly night air when the speaker crackled. I started, grabbing on to the railing in shock.

“What do you want?” the voice snapped.

“Um, hi.” I paused. That voice sent shudders of revulsion down my spine. I reminded myself this was necessary for my survival. I took a deep breath. “It’s Melissa.”

There was a long silence. Then, “Come up.”

The door unclicked.

I stepped inside, and a wave of heat hit me, though it didn’t stop my shivering. I slowly walked up the stairs, putting each foot carefully on each step, as if waiting for the wood to crack and buckle under my weight. I wished it would. Each step was harder than the last, and by the time I reached the third floor, I was convinced the nausea in my stomach had nothing to do with the fact that I was pregnant.

His door looked the same as it always had. I lifted a fist to knock. It opened before I could.

Blade stood there in all his glory. Well, actually not. He was only wearing boxers, baring the scars from fights and the tattoos that paid tribute to them all. His hair was cut short, his ears rimmed by a collection of gold and silver earrings. He was smoking a cigarette. His eyelids lowered as he looked at me with a practiced expression of indifference. He hadn’t shaved, leaving a dark bristle around his jaw. The whites of his eyes weren’t white, but a sick mixture of pink and yellow.

“Well, well. If it isn’t Miss Prissy
Princess
.” He lowered the cigarette and blew a plume of smoke that didn’t quite reach me. There were more tattoos than I remembered, more scars. He’d found more trouble without me, it seemed. “Run away from your little yuppie boyfriend? I notice you aren’t wearin’ all that jazzy shit.” He motioned toward my jeans and sweatshirt.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Aren’t you doin’ that right now?”

I took a deep breath. It was now or never. “I need money.”

He started laughing. I tried not to show how upset that made me. Attempting to keep my expression flat, I hid my shaking hands in the pockets of my jacket.

“Well, shit! Melissa Almighty needs money. Why don’t you ask your rich boyfriend for it, huh? Or you could just get a real job, ‘stead of openin’ your legs up for rich fucks.”

“I can’t ask my boyfriend,” I said calmly. “I need to pay for something off-the-record, something he can’t know about.”

“Like what?”

“None of your business.”

Blade leaned out of the apartment, one arm on the threshold, looking every inch the smug asshole he was. “If I’m gonna give you money, I need to know where it’s goin’.”

“It has nothing to do with you.”

“I think it has everything to do with me.” He took another drag from his cigarette. “How much?”

“Two hundred.”

“And how exactly do you plan on paying me back?”

“I’ll find a way.” When Blade simply lifted his eyebrows, I let desperation slip into my voice. I knew Blade was an asshole, but I held onto a sliver of hope that he cared about me enough at some point to do me a favor. He’d treated me better than a lot of the girls he threw away, like Cordelia. If he’d been willing to keep me around for longer than a few weeks, surely he held
some
affection for me, right? “You know I’m good on my word, Blade. Haven’t I always been good on my word?”

“You were more dependable than most of the bitches in this town. ‘Specially for a whore. But”—he took a step toward me—“I’ll need collateral so that I know you’re good on your word.”

“I don’t have anything. Blade, please. You know me.”

“I know a lotta people.”

“Blade…”

“You tell me what this is for, and I’ll think about it.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “My sister’s pregnant.”

His eyes widened only slightly. “She a whore, too?”

“It was an honest mistake.”

“Mistake?” he smirked.

“So now you know why I need that money.”

Blade sucked on his cigarette, staring into the space above my head. “So she’s gonna get the ole hanger treatment, huh? Pretty pricey if you want a guy who’s semi-professional and discrete.”

“I think two hundred will cover it.”

“Oh, I hope so. For your sister’s sake. But why are
you
here asking for money? Shouldn’t your sister be the one over here beggin’?”

“You don’t know my sister.”

Blade gave me a knowing look. He probably knew it wasn’t my sister who was pregnant, but I wasn’t going to say anything. I guess he figured there was no point squabbling over details.

“Come inside. I’ll see what I can get for you.”

Blade had a new TV, but the rest of the apartment hadn’t changed much. He wasn’t much into living comforts. His main weakness was cars, so he spent most of his money on those. He must have gotten a maid, too, because his place was cleaner than I remembered. I came to a stop in the middle of the living room, feeling awkward. The chills up my spine hadn’t stopped, and now I felt the sudden desire to wash my hands. I wanted to grab the money and get out. I didn’t know how I was going to pay Blade back without Ezekiel noticing. Even if I bought a necklace worth that and gave it to Blade to pawn, Ezekiel might ask about it. For someone who never went shopping with me, Ezekiel seemed to know a lot about the things I bought. However, I had no other choice. Blade was the only one who had two hundred bucks to loan to me, and he didn’t know about Ezekiel. If he did, he’d never give me a cent. In fact, he’d probably never talk to me again.

Blade came back from his bedroom, hands still empty.

“So?” I asked. “Are you going to give me the money?”

Blade sat down in his favorite recliner, legs spread, head tilted back, looking me over. I crossed my arms and faced him.

“First, we need to talk about deadlines,” He stabbed out his cigarette in the ashtray by his chair. “I need to know when I’m getting paid back.”

“I-I don’t know. It depends on when I can get it together. My boyfriend keeps pretty close tabs on me.”

Blade clucked his tongue disapprovingly. “That just won’t do, will it? If I’m going to give you two hundred, I need to know when I’m getting it back. Or else—no money.”

“I used to be your girlfriend, Blade. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

“Weren’t that great at it,” he muttered.

“I was always good on my word!”

He sighed. “You don’t want a deadline, and you don’t want to show me collateral. No compromise, no money.”

“Blade!” By now, desperation had my heart in its clutches, spreading its icy tentacles throughout my body. If I couldn’t get this money, I couldn’t get the…operation. If I couldn’t get the operation, I’d be killed. I’d always been good at keeping myself alive, despite all the men who pulled guns and knives on me. Somehow, I always lived to see the next day, though, search me for the reason why I
wanted
to live to the next day. Now that my life wasn’t so horrid, something stupid like two hundred dollars was going to get me murdered. “Blade, please. I’ll—I’ll try to compromise, but I’m in a really tight spot, and I need this.”

Blade watched me as I struggled to hold back tears. He wasn’t the sort of guy to be swayed by emotion. I’d seen him face down plenty of weeping women with a pistol and an expression of steel.

Maybe he liked me more than the others, or maybe he was still half-asleep, because he sighed and waved me over.

“There is something you can do,” he said. “Some form of collateral you can give me.”

“I don’t have any money.” I didn’t even have any jewelry, afraid that there were tracking devices in them.

“I’m not asking for money.”

For a moment, I’d thought Blade had some scrap of a heart, some remote speck of morality. He quickly proved to me this wasn’t true, because his voice went from soft to cruel.

“Get on your knees,” he ordered. “And suck me off.”

I blinked. “Ex—excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“I—but—”

“Make it good, and I’ll think about it counting as collateral.”

“But—”

“I’m not gonna tell you how much ‘til you’re done.” His mouth stretched into a greasy leer. “It’ll give you some incentive to do your best.”

I froze. Perhaps I shouldn’t have hesitated, because I
had
done this for a living not too long ago. But while being with Ezekiel was a paid gig, it didn’t feel like prostitution. I’d forgotten that initial disgust, that wave of self-hatred that rose up and grabbed me, and then the separation from myself that occurred shortly after. I’d almost felt like a person with Ezekiel. How foolish of me to believe that.

Blade was already opening the fly of his boxers and pulling himself out. For a moment, I was sure I was going to vomit. Then resolution settled in, and I knew what I had to do. Give him this, and I wouldn’t be expected to repay him the two hundred bucks in full. Not that he could do anything to me if I didn’t pay him back, but he could certainly hurt Mimi, or the women I used to work with. What was a blowjob anyway? It wasn’t like I hadn’t sucked him off before. At least he was bathed. A small blessing.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed myself out of my body. I could argue that it wasn’t me that slowly descended onto her knees. It wasn’t me that reached forward and dropped her head, and it wasn’t my hair that Blade grabbed with two fists. No, I was hovering around the ceiling, watching it all like it was a movie. I didn’t know that girl, but I could feel sorry for her. Even when she tried to touch a life of luxury, she was still forced onto her knees for some creep she despised. Even when she wore designer dresses, even when she was driven around by a chauffeur, even when she had a credit card with no limit—here she was, mouth around the dick of a gangster who called the majority of women sluts.

It was a sad thing, really.

Good thing I wasn’t that girl.

* * *

“Do you want to get breakfast or anything?” Victor asked me. We were stuck in downtown traffic on our way to Ralston.

“I’m not really hungry,” I said, staring out the window at all the pedestrians in suits heading for work. “But you can get something if you want.”

“I think I’m going to get a bagel.” Victor flicked on his turn signal and slipped into the closest parking garage. “That okay with you? Maybe we can walk around and shop, if you like.”

“I’m fine with whatever you want.”

Victor insisted on getting me a bagel, too, but I declined. I wasn’t feeling so great. I think the nausea was pregnancy related. I hoped it was, at least.