Three, Two, One (321) Page 5

  And then I take in a deep breath as his gaze drops down, taking in my body wrapped up in the towel, then lifts back up to find my face. He reaches out and untucks the end of my towel, and it drops to the floor with a soft whoosh. Then he takes the towel around my shoulders and dries me off. First my arms. Then my breasts and belly. Then he bends down so his face is even with my sex. His eyes linger on the crease between my legs, and then he drags the towel down my legs. He leaves the towel on the floor, standing again, and his hand slides up my thigh. He cups my pussy, a teasing finger slipping in and out for a moment, and then he kisses me on the mouth.

  “You’re not going to tell me today. I can see that. But I hope one day you will. Because no one deserves to be beaten like that if they say no.”

  My whole body starts to shake. What does that mean?

  He takes the t-shirt from my hand and pulls it over my head. I hand the heart-covered briefs to him and thread my arms through the sleeves. He holds out the underwear for me and I step into them as he pulls them up my legs.

  When I’m dressed he takes a step back, looking intently at me. “What’s your name, darling? You never told us.”

  Us? He’s referring to the roommate. Like they’re a team. I just stare back at him, unwilling to give that last private piece of information out. “They called me Star.”

  He squints his eyes at me in confusion. “Who called you Star?”

  My eyes dart back and forth to each of his, but I say nothing.

  “It’s not your name?”

  I shake my head.

  “You want us to call you Star?”

  I shake my head once more, again wondering at his use of the word us.

  “Well, then, I guess we’ll have to go with Blue, won’t we?”

  We? Us?

  My body is still shivering, even though I’ve got dry clothes on now. JD pulls on a pair of sweats and then takes my hand. “Let’s go to bed. I got up way too early for the girl who never bothered to show.”

  I swallow hard and plant my feet in place, refusing to budge.

  “Come on, Blue,” he says, tugging a little harder. Hard enough so that I stumble forward with him towards the king-size bed covered in soft pillowy blankets. They are a deep navy blue, the color of the night sky. “I won’t bother you,” he says as he climbs in and moves over to make room for me. “I think you need some rest.”

  He’s let go of my hand now, a gesture that says the ball is in my court. And I want nothing more than to climb between those sheets with him. I want nothing more than to be hugged and told that everything will be fine. I want nothing more than to feel safe.

  But how can I be sure it’s not a trap?

  “Blue,” he says softly. Not begging for me to get in bed. Not demanding that I give him my body.

  Asking. He says my new name like he’s asking.

  “What?” I say back, swallowing hard.

  “Just forget about it for a few hours. Those problems will still be there when you wake up.”

  He’s right. Those problems are never going away. So does it matter if I let go of them for a little while? I swallow again and give a small nod. “OK,” I breathe. “OK.”

  He folds the covers back and I climb in next to him. He’s so warm. And when his arms wrap around me, I fall for it.

  I fall for his charm.

  I fall for his kindness.

  I fall for his good looks.

  And then I fall into the best sleep I’ve had… ever.

  I met JD when we were both on the streets. Him because of drugs. Me because I was new in town and hadn’t found myself a place. I stepped off the bus from Miami at one in the morning, walked outside the bus station and the first thing I saw was JD getting rolled by some thugs.

  They were winning, but he didn’t need saving. He just needed help.

  So I helped.

  He’s two years younger than me, so he was young back then. Only twenty-one. And he was fucked up. It was clear he’d been fucked up for a pretty long stretch. Not anything he couldn’t be weaned off of, otherwise I wouldn’t have wasted my time. But he was drunk and on something else he never copped to.

  So I helped him out. And afterward, we sat on a concrete wall across the street from the bus station until the sun came up and he was able to talk in complete sentences.

  Objective number one when I got to Denver was to procure a partner. So I procured JD. He never went to college but he’s not a stupid guy. And he sorta knew the business, but he wasn’t an actor.

  And that was OK with me. I didn’t need an actor. I needed someone real.

  JD is as real as they come.

  And that fucker can talk a girl into sucking his dick in the middle of a nightclub in under five minutes when he turns on the charm.

  I know. He did it in front of me the first night we went out together. And that’s how I came up with the idea for Public Fuck America. I came to town with money and a goal. But I didn’t know how to reach that goal until I met JD.

  He’s my best friend. And I’d do just about anything for the guy. But this girl, man. I don’t know what it is. I just want her. I want her and he’s got her.

  I want to go home and take her back but I can’t. We’re still in debt to Ray until the end of next week, and there’s no way around it. I can talk big to Ray all I want, but he’s a friend too. I don’t want to piss him off. I don’t want to fuck up what we’ve built here. And I don’t want to set myself back any more than I have to. My life has been on hold for four years. I’m ready to move along.

  So whatever JD is doing with her, it needs to wait.

  I turn onto Speer Boulevard and take it up into the Highlands neighborhood, then cut through the side streets until I get up to 44th which takes me over to the west side.

  Why do I like this girl anyway? She’s too skinny, she’s pasty white, she’s on drugs—or was last night. Even if they were forced on her, that’s a red flag.

  But none of that matters because all I can think about is the mystery. Who is she running from? Why did they drug her? How did she escape?

  I find myself needing to know the answers to these questions for multiple reasons. Is she in the business? Her pussy has been waxed bare. Her legs fell open on command. She was pretty receptive to the idea of making money off her body. And she never said no when JD and I tag-teamed her outside or in the tub.

  I mean, we were just playing with her and what she did for us was not hardcore. But it was sexual. And we are strangers. And she’s still at our house right now.

  At least I hope she is. Because I don’t care if JD has her, I want her. I want my fingers inside her again. I want to kiss her sad, pouty mouth. I want to take her to bed and fuck her slowly.

  Jesus Christ. What is wrong with me?

  You’ve been on the job too long, Ark, the inner voice says.

  And it’s true. Four years is way too long. I’m ready to get out of here.

  The diner that Lanie works at is up in the western suburbs in an old downtown of a city that used to be more urban back when Denver was small. But now it’s just part of the sprawl, a place with a few old buildings so they can call it Old Town. But really, most of them were razed so they could put up townhouses and make them look old-timey, but still give them that shiny new polish in order to charge outrageous prices for units.

  Lanie works at a restaurant that held firm against the developers that took over Main Street. I’m not even sure it has a name. The sign on the front says Diner in that old neon script that used to be common in the Fifties and Sixties. Lanie works breakfast and dinner every day but Monday. Which is good for me, because I’m gonna need all afternoon to get my two movies.

  I ease the Jeep into the lot, park, and kill the engine. I haven’t seen her in almost a year, that’s how long it’s been since I needed help.

  But I know she’ll help.

  She always comes through for me when it’s about the job.

  I jump out of the Jeep and hunker down into my jac
ket. The rain has mostly stopped, but it’s still drizzling, so I jog the few paces to the door and let myself in.

  It’s busy as fuck inside. This place goes off for breakfast and dinner—which is why Lanie works those shifts. She makes a killing. She works hard for it, but she makes a killing.

  I search for her familiar dark hair and when I see her joking and laughing with an older couple near the back of the restaurant, I relax a little.

  Why don’t I come see her more?

  My smile fades when she catches my eye and there’s a break in her fun. She narrows her eyes at me, then turns back to her customers.

  I take a seat at the counter and order breakfast and ask for a paper. I have a clear view of the busy road outside, so I concentrate on that while I wait for my food and I’m almost done when Lanie finally makes her way over to me.

  “More coffee, sir?”

  I look up at her smiling face. “Yes, please.”

  She winces at my answer but keeps it professional. “Cream and sugar?”

  “Black.” I look her in the eyes for that one and she nods.

  “I see you’re finished. Can I take your plate?”

  “Thank you,” I say as she reaches for it. “It’s busy in here. What time does it thin out?”

  I catch the swallow as she takes in my words. “About an hour,” she says softly.

  I nod. “OK. Well, see you around.” I throw some bills on the counter, stand up, and walk out of the diner, again huddling into my jacket to stave off the rainy mist.

  Once inside the Jeep I check the time and then decide to stop by a camera store to wait her out. Because Lanie and I have an arrangement. We don’t hang out for a reason. And even though I like her a lot and I’d love to take her out to dinner and show her a nice time, we can’t. Because no one can know who the girl in these movies is. No one can connect her to me in any way.

  Otherwise, both of us could be killed.

  I head east to a strip mall and park the Jeep in a spot outside a hardware store and think.

  About the girl, mostly. Her hair color. Blonde. But it was a dark blonde when I saw her because it was wet. What does it look like dry? What do her eyes look like when they are not puffy from tears? What does her mouth do when it’s not downturned?

  Who the fuck did this to her?

  It’s an answer I think I need. I’m not even sure why, because I have not thought about shit like this for a long time now. A year, at least. Possibly closer to two.

  Money does that to you. Money changes you. I said it never would, but I was wrong. Something happens when you no longer have to worry about buying food and paying rent. It’s a subtle shift. Or at least it was for me. I came to town with enough to get started, and Ray was right to be suspicious of that. He does not want to know how I got that money.

  But that’s not the kind of money I’m talking about. I’m talking about enough money to buy a new car every month. Enough money to pay cash for a penthouse condo in LoDo. Enough money to set up a secret bunker filled with private servers. Buy a new ID and passport. Stash a few million away in secret bank accounts offshore.

  Enough money to do whatever the fuck I want, whatever way I want.

  No. No one saw that coming, not even me. When I came here I had no clue how fucking easy it would be to get lost in the business.

  But that question… it’s nagging at me. Who the fuck is she involved with?

  At first I suspected Ray. I mean, that makes sense. He’s in the same business as us. But I know it’s not Ray. Ray is not into the violent stuff. I know this for sure. I’ve seen his private collection of movies and none of them are weird. They are almost boring, that’s how vanilla his tastes are.

  I don’t think it was Ray Blue was working for, but I know for sure she was involved with someone. And that is something I’m going to find out.

  I contemplate calling JD just to see if he’s gotten any more information out about her, but then decide that’s a bad idea. I’m not sure how I want to proceed yet. I need to think this through. I need to know all my options before I go pissing him off over a girl I don’t know. And I need to consider all the consequences of each action I do decide to take.

  Plenty of risks to go around, that’s for sure.

  Just then I spot Lanie crossing the street. She took the bus like she’s been told to, so it’s good to know we’re still going by protocol, even if we haven’t seen each other in a year.

  She walks right past my Jeep and I watch her, but she doesn’t look at me. Her dark hair is red now. A wig. And her raincoat is long, reaching down past her knees. She’s wearing jeans and some knockoff sheepskin boots.

  I don’t watch her once she’s past my line of sight. Instead I check my phone, messing around on the Public Fuck Facebook page—which has two likes, JD and me, since we haven’t launched yet—and exactly ten minutes later I get out and walk down to the discount cinema where I know Lanie went in, even though I didn’t watch her.

  Inside it’s a madhouse of kids and video games as parents on a budget endure this ruckus so they can buy a little entertainment. I check the movies, choose the next show time for the last one listed on the board above my head, and pay for a ticket.

  Thankfully, it’s not a kids’ show. It’s a two-and-a-half-hour murder drama that has been playing for the better part of six months—because this cinema only gets movies just before they go to DVD—and there’s only a handful of people seated when I walk in and find Lanie sitting up in the last row with her boots propped up on the seat in front of her.

  I walk up the steps slowly, trying to gauge her mood as I make my approach. She smiles when I sit down and I take her hand like we’re a couple. “Missed you,” I say softly.

  “I wish I could say the same,” she shoots back with a smile.

  “Sorry about this. You know—”

  “I know,” she says, cutting me off. “Forget it. Just tell me what you need.”

  She winces when I say, “Two.” And I try my best to make it sound like no big deal. “One in here and one in the car once it gets dark.”

  “Jesus Christ, Ark.”

  “Lanie, it’s not like I ask that often. I just fell short this week.”

  “Why?” she asks, turning to me. “What happened?”

  “The fucking girls just bailed. We had three set up and two fell through. Look, I know this sucks, but we’ve got two weeks left. Two weeks.”

  “And then what? None of that makes sense to me. You actually plan on running a porn business?”

  “I already run a porn business, Lane.”

  “Not like that, Ark.” She sneers my name. “Not like what you’re planning. It’s apples and oranges. You’re so much worse than him.”

  “Fuck you,” I say before I can stop myself.

  “Well, you’ve taken care of that, haven’t you?”

  Goddammit. I really do not need the lecture right now. But I can’t help myself from asking. Because I’m not like him. “How? It’s the same shit.”

  “Because you’ll be perpetuating it. And not only that, you’ll be profiting from it.”

  “I’m already profiting from it.”

  She turns her head away, letting me know this conversation is over. And before I can even defend my indefensible position, the lights dim and the previews start. When the announcement comes on for everyone to turn their phones off, a few of the scattered couples down front make a move to do that.

  But I power mine up.

  Because Lanie is already on her knees blowing me in the twilight darkness. And when the movie starts, I fist her hair and hold her face down on my cock as I come down her throat.

  We don’t leave together. She gets up as soon as she’s done and I stay until the end of the movie and then make my way back to my Jeep and drive home. When I pull into my parking spot, she’s already opening the door as I shift into first and turn the ignition off.

  “You owe me,” she says as I unzip my pants.

  “I know,”
I tell her back as she gets me hard again. This takes longer than I’d like because all I can think about is how much she hates me. How big of an asshole I am for making her do this. How dirty my hands are for being in this business. And how right she is.

  I’m way worse than Ray.

  Because Ray would never take a girl against her will. That’s why I need the proof of ID, the contracts, and all that other bullshit. Ray is legit.

  And I can tell myself this is business all I want. That Lanie has to do this for me, per our agreement. But it’s bullshit. I’m making her blow me. I’m making her degrade herself. And I’m going to drive over to Ray’s, edit it, and upload it to his servers as soon as I’m done here.

  I’m far, far worse than Ray.

  Because I’m not legit. I’m nothing but a scammer. A cheater. A walking piece of shit. And everything that has come out of my mouth the past four years has been a lie.

  It was Janine Delgado who started me down this path. I blame her for all of it. I know, even as I lie in this stranger’s bed, that I’m being irrational. Both for letting him bring me here and for blaming Janine Delgado for my problems. But I have a good argument for both.

  Janine Delgado was a mama’s girl from day one. Being neighbors and exactly the same age—we shared a birthday—we started out as friends from the beginning. But Janine and I could not be farther apart in personality. She was afraid of everything and I was afraid of nothing. By the time we got to middle school, kids used to taunt her about it. They called her Janine the Drama Queen because everything with her was a production. She was awkward in every social situation, so when it came time to go to parties in high school, Janine was told by her parents to try harder, and harder she did. She went overboard in every way imaginable. There is a difference between being fearless, like me, and stupid, like her. Although I do admit my decisions over the past year and a half put me squarely into the stupid department.

  Janine and I stopped being friends in tenth grade because she said I was holding her back. You see, Janine found drugs. Drugs turned her into someone else. Into someone with no inhibitions. Into a slut, if I’m being honest.