“I’m from the liquor store,” I say through the door. “Mac sent me. He says you won today’s lottery, but ya gotta come pick it up before ten. He tried callin’ ya.”
I hear the chain lock slide to one side, and I brace myself. As soon as the door is open a couple of inches, I throw my body weight at it, and Jimmy goes flying. I shut the door behind me and follow him inside. A second later, I’m straddling him, and my gun is in his face.
“You scream; you die.”
He stares up at me with bloodshot eyes, nodding rapidly.
“I ain’t got no cash.”
“Isn’t that a shame?” I lean back and haul him up by his collar before roughly throwing him into a threadbare recliner. I point the gun at him again. “Take off your shoes and socks.”
&nbs
p; “Why the fuck?”
“This is the part where you do exactly what the guy with the gun tells you to do.”
He eyes me blearily, but he seems to be sobering up pretty quickly as he removes his shoes and socks. When he’s done, he sits back in the chair.
“Put these on.” I hand him a fresh pair of socks and some wool gloves. He eyes me, confused, but does as I instruct. I pull out some zip ties from my pocket to secure his hands and feet, making sure the ties are on the outside of the cloth and don’t leave a mark.
I look at him for a long moment. I can see an artery hammering in his neck, and there’s sweat on his forehead. He’s nervous and rightfully so.
“Feeling a little helpless?” I raise my eyebrows and give him a cold smile as I pick up one of his socks and ball it up in my hand. It’s slightly damp and leaves a mark on the gloves. I’ll have to pitch them when I’m through. Taking a step closer to the chair, I shove one of the dirty socks in Jimmy mouth. His hands are bound in front of him, but when he reaches up to try to get it out, I stop him with the gun in his face. “Now, now, leave that alone. We’re going to have a little conversation. Or rather, you’re going to listen to me because I don’t really give a fuck what you have to say.”
I grab a folding chair and turn it around before I sit in front of him and lean over the back, gun dangling. I look at him with my head tilted to the side and just stare as I count to sixty. He’s really sweating now, and it’s difficult for him to swallow with the sock-gag.
“So, what is it about young girls, anyway?” I ask. “Grown up pussy isn’t tight enough for your measly dick?”
His eyes widen and he starts to shake his head. I point the gun at his face and tell him to be still. He obeys immediately.
“If I ask you a yes or no question, you can nod or shake your head. So far, everything I have to say is pretty much rhetorical.”
I roll my shoulders one at a time and then stretch my neck. I let him wait and wonder for another minute before I speak again.
“It’s too bad you aren’t locked up. Instead, you got off on some bullshit technicality,” I say. “I mean, if you were in prison right now, I would have a little more difficulty getting to you. Not that it wouldn’t have been done, but it might have cost me a little money or at least a pack of smokes.”
I pull out a cigarette and light it, letting the smoke trickle out of my nose.
“Here’s the thing,” I say slowly as I stare back into his eyes. “I know your daughter.”
I give him props for remaining perfectly still as he hears this, but his eyes still crease a little more at the corners. He’s breathing a little faster now as well.
“I actually kinda like her, ya know?” I shake my head and smile. “I can’t say I was expecting that. I mean, she’s a hooker and all. Who gets attached to a hooker?”
I laugh.
“Can’t lie. It’s not the first time.” I take a long drag off the smoke. “It gets a little lonely in this business, and it’s good to have someone to rely on. I hope I can rely on her, anyway. I think I can. We’ve talked about it, and I think she’s going to be all right with it.”
I point my cigarette at him.
“We’ve talked, you know—she and I. Not a lot. She hasn’t given me much in the way of details but just enough to get me thinking. There’s always a reason people end up on the street, and it doesn’t usually start off as their fault. I don’t ordinarily expect to hear someone’s own father got her started as a whore before she was even in high school.”
“That’s pretty sick, ya know.” I glare at him. “I know I’m crazy, but that shit is sick—really sick. I couldn’t let that slide.”
Taking another puff, I stand up and crouch down in front of him. I balance carefully just in case he does decide to kick out at me. He can’t really hurt me with his bare feet in the restraints, but I still don’t want to be surprised.
“The more I thought about it, the more I realized you probably weren’t just whoring her out. You were using her, too, weren’t you? You were fucking your own daughter and then selling her to anyone else who was interested.”