Black wings flap violently in the night’s sky. Glancing up, the moon casts a glow upon the wings as they weave back and forth. Crying. I hear disgruntled cries from what sounds like a little kid. I try to move toward the sound, but I’m cemented in place. I look down at my feet, finding them buried in muck. I shift and shove at them to move, but they won’t budge. I look up, noticing the wings have moved closer. They’re flapping faster, like they’re angry. The cries are getting louder and more frantic, and yet I still can’t fucking move. The wings suddenly wrap around me and squeeze me so tight I’m nearly suffocating. I try to scream for help, but nothing comes out. No sound, not even a whisper. The black, ominous feathers start to crush me, breaking my bones like toothpicks. My skin begins to turn black, blending with the wings as one.
“Charlie, you awake?”
I jump from my nightmare, my body covered in sweat. “I am now,” I mumble into my pillow, my heart pounding against my chest. I peel an eye open and find it’s still dark outside before closing my eye again.
“How did your first night go?” Jayden whispers. I think of Smith and the pleased face of Mick.
“It was okay,” I groan, flipping over on the bed.
“Mick said he was getting us air conditioning because of how well you delivered,” she continues, her tone soft.
“Mmm,” I mumble.
“I didn’t do as well as he hoped, so he put me in the motel tomorrow,” Jayden whispers. I pull my head up from my pillow, my vision blurry from sleep.
“Seriously?” That can’t be. Jayden has had way more experience than me. Well, at least I thought she did.
“After Margo gave me the low-down on how to spot cops, I went to work. I worked two cars, both with some fine-ass men from the college. But then there was a car that pulled up to our corner that had two men with evil looks on their faces. Their lips were curled with a sense of anger, and their teeth were stained yellow. I could smell their body odor just from standing on the outside of the car. So, I refused service. I stepped back and said ‘no thanks’. Margo snatched me by the arm and was pissed. She waltzed me back to Mick and told him I wasn’t what she thought.”
“Shit, Jayden, I’m sorry,” I whisper. “We should be able to say who we work and who we don’t. That’s bullshit,” I state, my voice heavy with sleep. “Besides, I think Margo is just pissed that Mick liked us so much. Maybe he isn’t usually so taken with girls. Maybe he’s really an asshole or something,” I suggest, trying to make sense of the whole thing.
“Yeah, well, I’ll prove them wrong tomorrow,” Jayden sniffles, turning over on her bed. I arch an eyebrow, shocked. Mick has found her weakness and is playing it against her. Jayden is a very confident girl; she can have any guy she wants, and she’ll make Mick a bunch of money. I know that, and I’m sure Mick knows it. That’s why he’s doing this to her. He’s working her mind. He’s smarter than I thought.
“Don’t believe his shit, Jayden. You’re falling right into his trap of psycho bullshit. You have to stay strong, don’t show him your insecurities,” I inform, my tone coming off stern and direct.
I see her head bob up and down in the dark, nodding in agreement.
“Okay. You’re right. I just—”
“I understand. He snakes his way in, finds what you need. He did it to me with complimenting me. We can’t fall for it. At least you’ll be close to me, being back at the motel,” I grumble, closing my eyes.
***
I stack the condoms one by one while I wait for my next trick. Jayden’s so hell-bent on proving Mick she’s worthy today, she even did some yoga stretches before we left. I wouldn’t be a friend if I didn’t warn her about the camera in room 2, so I told her. She kissed me for telling her. I should’ve been surprised that she wasn’t upset about being watched while having sex, but Jayden is a free spirit and wasn’t alarmed at all.
A small knock sounds at the door, making me hurry and throw my stack of condoms in the bowl.
A man with long blond hair and dark scruff on his cheeks walks in, wearing a distressed black shirt and ripped jeans with dirty work boots. His skin is a golden tan, and his large hands have white paint on them. No, it looks too abrasive for paint — concrete, maybe? I bet he’s a construction worker. He’s sexy as hell.
“Hey, I’m Tim,” he introduces, his tone deep and rough. He runs his hand through his hair and smirks. My mouth parts as his voice climbs up my legs like an aphrodisiac, my body heating instantly from just the look of him.
“Fancy,” I greet, standing on purple heels.
“Goddamn, you’re sexy. Where has Mick been hiding you?” He shakes his head, swiping his thumb across his chin. He’s a regular of Mick’s, I see.