When the Dark Wins

I clear my throat but don’t offer any words. I want to maintain the silence for as long as I can, but I also really want a fucking cigarette. I wonder if he’d be willing to stop at a gas station on the way back to his place, but unfortunately until he pays me, I can’t even afford a pot to piss in right now.

He reaches a hand over and gives my thigh a gentle, almost reassuring squeeze, and I glance over at him. His eyes are still on the road ahead of us, but I see a small smile creep up the corners of his lips. I want him to be comfortable with me so I reach over and rest a hand on top of his and return the gesture. Lowell uses a thumb to gently rub the arch of my hand before he pulls his away, placing it back on the steering wheel.

“That was nice. Thank you for that,” I say softly.

He glances at me, the smile a little wider and a little shyer on his face as he places the same hand that gently caressed mine on the console between us, palm up, extending an invitation to me.

I know I shouldn’t, but at this point it’s obvious that he’s no ordinary John, and this isn’t going to be a routine night, so I let my hand fall into his and turn my face away as he closes his firmly, but gently around it.

I guess that’s his way of saying I’m his, and he’s not wrong. Everything has a price—people included—and when you pay for something, you own it. Since I’m still very cautious about this entire situation, I’m considering myself lucky just to be rented for a while. I’m hoping that he won’t get sick of me after tonight, because I really would love my own little place. Short-term lease apartments are a dime a dozen in Fairbanks and I can’t help but think of the possibilities if I had somewhere to call my very own.

I should know better than to let myself think of the unattainable because that’s how I’ve been let down so many times before, but there’s something different about Lowell. Something inviting, if not mysterious, and I don’t think he’d be taking me back to his actual home unless he planned on keeping his word.

At least I hope not.

I let out a deep sigh and he begins to rub my hand with his thumb again. He can sense my tension, if not feel it, and he’s doing his best to help me relax. It’s funny how the tables have turned so quickly and even funnier how I can find such a small comfort in the hands of a stranger.

I have a good feeling about Lowell, and even though his generous offer remains to be seen on follow through, I think things will be okay for a little while now.

It takes about another hour to get to Lowell’s place and I find it kind of peculiar that he lives so far removed from town. I don’t let the thought sit as long as I should though, because he’s been nothing but nice to me so far, and I like him a little bit already.

He’s quiet, but nice. A little mysterious, but kind. He doesn’t seem to mind that I’m a hooker, and he’s the first John I’ve had in my years of doing this that treats me like an actual person. Not just pussy.

Instinct is telling me to grab the money and run as soon as he stops the car, like any smart trick would do in my situation, but his driveway is long and winding and it’s too dark for me to see a way out. My gut is telling me that this will not end in anything other than pain, yet the need for food and a home is enough to quiet the common sense that’s trying to help me see that this little deal we have may not be all it’s cracked up to be.

Besides, there’s nothing he can do to me that hasn’t been done before—violently or sexually. I’ll use my God-given talents on him, collect my due, and be on my way.

Everything else that happens between us will eventually fall away like all deeds born of ill intentions. That’s just how life is, and I’m used to it by now.

“You doing okay?” he asks as he brings the car slowly up the circular driveway.

I glance at him and nod before I turn my attention back to the layout in fron

t of me. His house seems modest enough; a two-floor colonial style house. I can’t make out the color in this damn darkness, but I’m sure it’s a white or a pale shade of something.

But much like the person sitting next to me, I don’t really care about the outside. Sure, it’s nice to look at and it seems welcoming enough, however I’m more curious about the secrets that are hiding inside of it.

“Well. Here we are,” he says with a nervous laugh as he cuts the engine to the vehicle. “Let’s go inside and I’ll cook you something to eat first, okay?”

Dinner? I couldn’t help but smile at how hard Lowell seemed to be trying to impress me. Either that or he was so nervous he didn’t know how else to act right now. God, I hope he’s not a virgin. Not that I care, but he seems too damn sweet to have a professional punch his V-card for him.

“That sounds great!” I reply brightly.

He lets out a sigh of relief as he slips the keys to his car into his hand and exits the vehicle. I reach between my legs and grab my clutch firmly in my hand, while he opens my door and holds it open for me. I look up into his bright brown eyes and smile, making him turn a slight shade of red.

It actually makes me feel good that I still have enough charm left in me to make a man blush in my presence.

Something tells me that this night will shape up to be much more than I expect, and as I feel Lowell’s hand slip into mine, I can’t wait to see where it takes us.

“Hey, you’re not a vegetarian are you?” he calls out from the kitchen. It’s been about twenty minutes since he sat me down in his living room with a glass of red wine. Just like your lips, he had said with a smile when he handed it to me. “Cause if you are, I’m not gonna be of much use to you.”

“Nope! I’m really into meat,” I called back.

An amused laugh is his response, and it takes me a moment to figure out what was so funny about what I said. I roll my eyes and chuckle—the childish mind of a teenage boy trapped in the body of a man.

“Do you want some help?” I ask.

“Not right now, but thanks!” he replies.