"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 tw.a.n.g" 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 was 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 t.i.ts as she leaned over the car, practically crawling up on the hood. Long legs, nice shape, cute as h.e.l.l, but she had a totally flat a.s.s.

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 d.a.m.n 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 a.s.s 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 f.u.c.k 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 s.h.i.t.

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 G.o.dd.a.m.ned hero.

"We're just f.u.c.king 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 s.h.i.t up, and I'll pa.s.s you over for another b.i.t.c.h. 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 pa.s.sed 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.

Ditching my boots and socks towards the end of the bed, I popped open the b.u.t.tons on my jeans before I leaned back on my elbows. It was definitely more comfortable that way as I watched Bridgett strip in front on me.

Ultimately, I was still too tired to stand up, but I had to keep up pretenses.

Unlike the rest of me, my c.o.c.k was all too willing to join in a little late night fun, and I could see Bridgett's eyes move to my crotch a few times as she removed the rest of her clothes.

I took a good look at her for the first time. When she had been at my place before, I really hadn't looked at much more than her a.s.s, which was definitely "custom," as Jonathan would have said. Now I checked out her equally round t.i.ts not too big, but nice and fleshy and curved hips. She was built like a woman, not a twiggy little thing, which I appreciated a lot. She had good skin, pale and perfect.

"You really want the shoes off?" she asked.

I nodded my head, and she removed them before climbing over the top of me and pressing her lips down to mine. I kept myself propped on my elbows and just let her do what she wanted for a few minutes while I kept looking at her.

Long, dark hair and a little patch of matching triangle lower down tickled as she ran her hands up and down my sides. She straddled me lower, kissed down the center of my chest to my stomach, and then got off the edge of the bed. I raised my hips as she pushed my jeans down my legs until she was kneeling in front of me. Her hands caressed my thighs, and I closed my eyes as the warmth of her mouth covered my c.o.c.k for the second time.

"f.u.c.k, that's nice..." My hand reached down and grabbed her shoulder, encouraging her to come back up and stop sucking me off. I had another idea this time. "Lay on your back."

She did as I said, and I raised a leg up to straddle her this time. I watched her tongue dart over her lips, and I moved up her chest with my d.i.c.k pointing towards her face. My hands came up her sides and took hold of both t.i.ts. My thumbs grazed over the nipples until they stood out nice and hard and then pushed them both together and around my c.o.c.k.

Bridgett sucked her lower lip into her mouth and bit down on it a little as I started to f.u.c.k her t.i.ts. Rocking slowly back and forth, I didn't quite go up far enough to touch her mouth with the tip. I probably could have, and she would have given me both the t.i.t f.u.c.k and her mouth at once, but the angle wasn't quite right, and I wanted to be done soon.

Moving a little faster, I felt the pressure building in my b.a.l.l.s as my thighs trembled a little. I leaned my head back and let out a moan as the first shot coated her skin between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. I looked down as the next one went higher, coating her neck, and the third stream further soaked her t.i.ts.

With a final groan, I climbed back off of her. On shaky legs, I quickly went to the bathroom and soaked a washcloth, then took both it and a dry towel to hand to her. As soon as she took them from my hands, I dropped to my back on the bed. I stretched my arms up over head and yawned loudly as she cleaned herself up. Once she was done, she curled up against my side and ran her hand over my chest.

I reached over, twisted my arm a little around hers, and gripped her hip to pull her against me. This effectively cut off her reach to my c.o.c.k as well, which was going to make it a little easier to get some sleep. My head was getting that foggy feeling again, and I closed my eyes to let myself go.

"You're going to fall asleep on me again, aren't you?" Bridgett said with a bit of a giggle.

I grunted but didn't open my eyes. A moment later, I felt her fingers against my jaw.

"Really?" she asked quietly. "You're going to spend all that money and not even f.u.c.k me? Twice now?"

I opened my eyes half way and looked up at her.

"What do you care?" I mumbled. I was starting to feel the warm cover of sleep moving over my body, and making sounds wasn't helping at all. I needed the rest, and she was going to pepper me with questions.

"It doesn't make sense," she said.

I ignored her, figuring that was the best way to get her to shut up. I tucked my head into the pillow and subsequently against her arm as well before I closed my eyes again.

"You paid for me all night last time for a b.l.o.w. .j.o.b and this time for a t.i.t f.u.c.k? Do you really have that much money to throw away? I mean, I figure if you're Moretti's killer then"

I rolled quickly, covered her body with mine, and placed my hand over her mouth. I felt her fingers grip into my arms, but she wasn't even close to matching my strength and remained immobilized. Completely awake now unfortunately I stared down into her eyes with as much menace as I could muster.

"Some things aren't discussed," I said slowly and quietly.

I raised an eyebrow and waited for her to acknowledge what I said. When she nodded quickly, I released her mouth, but the damage was already done. A single tear fell from the corner of her eye. Part of me wanted to apologize, but she had to know she couldn't just open up her mouth and talk about that kind of s.h.i.t it didn't matter where we were. Next time we'd be in a bar or someplace, and she'd end up getting us both killed.

Pushing off of her, I landed on my back against the mattress. The ceiling needed to be painted, and I spent a moment wondering if I should put on a fresh coat of your basic ceiling white or maybe try something at little more interesting.

"I'm sorry," I heard from beside me. "If you want to...to just sleep or whatever, that's cool."

Swallowing down whatever tetchiness was still left in me, I nodded and looked at her. Though her eyes were dry now, I knew I had scared her, and that's not what I really wanted to do. She needed to remember what kind of life she was leading and what kind of people ended up around her because of it. She was young, but she couldn't afford to be stupid. If she did, she'd die young, too.

"I...I sleep better with someone here," I finally admitted. "I'm not seeing anyone, so..."

I let my voice trail off in hopes that the whole conversation would go away, but Bridgett was the most inquisitive of streetwalkers.

"You have nightmares?" she asked.

"Sometimes."

"Bad ones?"

My eyes narrowed at her slightly. I didn't want to go in this direction, and I also didn't want to have to throw her out. I nodded once without speaking, but she still didn't take the hint.

"What about?"

"For f.u.c.k's sakes," I growled. I resisted the urge to get up and drag her a.s.s back to the street corner but only just barely. "Look, I'm tired, okay? I haven't slept in two days because I have s.h.i.tty dreams, and the last time you were here, I slept really well, okay? Now can you just shut up for a few hours, or do I have to drag your a.s.s back to your pimp and find a new wh.o.r.e?"

My heart was starting to pound faster, and if this kept up, I wasn't going to be able to sleep no matter who was here. Thankfully, Bridgett finally understood and lay her head down beside mine.

There was just no reason to go into the details.

Chapter 3 Conjured Plan.