by London Hale
“Four months to go,” I whispered as I brought the Saint Christopher medallion hanging from my rearview mirror to my lips. It was a habit, one I’d developed a long time ago whenever I crossed over water. I hated bridges, hated the ferry, too. I hated that I had to leave the safety and security of Temperance Falls to go to the mainland for work.
Rumor, the woman who ran the escort agency, had tried to get me to work for clients on the island since I’d joined her staff, but I’d always refused…until I hadn’t. There’d been one time, one meeting. Less than a week ago, I’d met a client on the island for an introductory get-to-know-you session, and everything had gone wrong. I’d been nervous, too worried about exposing myself to pay attention to him. The John had gotten handsy in public, a huge no-no for me. When I’d tried to end the meeting, he’d acted too possessive. Too…aggressive.
He’d had me pinned to the wall in an alley before I could even yell for help.
Connor showing up to save the day the way he always seemed to do had been both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because I’d been unable to protect myself from the wandering hands and the heavy weight of the man against me. A curse because I’d had to lie to Connor again. A hard lie that time, not an exaggeration. I’d told him I was on a date even though it broke my heart to say those words. But if he ever found out what I did to make money—if he knew the truth about me—our friendship would be over. Something I could not allow to happen.
Four months left. That was all I had of school, and then I could look for a real job. One that would pay me enough to afford my bills. One that didn’t require me to take my clothes off or watch men jack off while I read the Wall Street Journal to them. One that didn’t require me to rely on how young I looked to entice old men to live out some creepy teenage-reversion fantasy. Like I’d be doing tonight.
I drove past the John’s house and parked at the end of the block. My heart raced, and my stomach churned as I prepared myself for what I had to do. For what I hated to do. This was my first client meeting since the potential John had attacked me on the island. The first time I’d been able to agree to handle a job. I’d turned away every request from new clients and occassionals, but I couldn’t turn down this one. He was a regular—a weekly. I had to show up.
“You can do this,” I told myself before pulling down the rearview mirror to apply the sickly sweet lip gloss he liked me to wear. I tucked my keys in the visor—I never liked to have them on me when I was in a client’s house in case things went bad for me—and whispered, “You’ve got this.”
Ten deep breaths, a fluff of my hair, and I was heading for his house. Thank God it was cold enough for me to wear my long winter coat. If Connor had seen the outfit I had on underneath—nope. I had to stop thinking about Connor. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to go through with things. I wouldn’t be able to put on the Lolita personality I used with these men. If I thought about Connor, I’d run back to the island and throw myself into his arms.
Best not to think about anything other than the cash.
The John, who I had always been told to call Davie, swung open the door before I could even ring the bell.
“There you are. I’ve been waiting for you. I’m so glad you could come for our playdate.” His smile was as wide as ever, the costume he always wore childlike as usual. Dave had been a client for almost the entire two years I’d been working as an escort, and his particular fantasy was one of the easiest for me. He was the child, and I was the babysitter. We’d play in his toy room and eat kid-type snacks until it was time for his “nap,” which was when he’d stroke himself while I danced around the room with headphones on. Weird, but not dangerous. Yet, that night, something felt off.
I hated feeling off.
“Hey, Davie,” I said, my voice weaker than it should have been, my heart practically pounding in my throat. “I hope you’re ready to play lots of board games tonight.”
“Yes! I love board games.” He moved back to let me inside and closed the door behind me.
The snick of the handle falling into place started me down the road to panic. Every instinct I had for self-preservation exploded at the sound. There was nothing out of the ordinary in his living room, nothing that should have concerned me, but that didn’t stop the fear from pulling at me.
Still, I had a job to do. Four more months of them. I needed the money, and he needed me to be Lolita. Time to get to work.
“My parents will be back at ten,” Dave said, tugging his too-tight shirt down over his expanding belly. “We’ve got hours to play, Lolita.”
I cringed, the name making my skin crawl. “Perfect. Why don’t you pick a game while I hang up my coat?”
The conversation continued as it always did, the scene playing out to his exact specifications. With every line, every word I had to speak in a singsong voice, my dread grew. But it was when Davie told me to follow him to the playroom—the bedroom he’d filled with child-sized furniture and shelves upon shelves of toys—that I broke.
It was a simple thing, really. A bag I noticed sitting on the kitchen table as we headed for the hallway. One with a logo I recognized from a shop on the island. From Connor’s favorite bakery. In a split second, I went from Lolita the escort to Lola the girl in love with a man she couldn’t ever have. How would Connor feel if he knew where I was, especially after he’d jumped in to save me last week? What would he think if he had any idea what I did when I told him I was working? Those soft touches and friendly evenings spent hanging out would disappear, that security blanket of his attention would implode. I would be alone…again. Always.
Fuck, what was I doing?
“Lolita?”
I jumped back, unable to stop thinking about Connor. Finding it impossible to move farther down the hall. “I’m sorry, but I need to go.”
His confusion only made me feel worse. “But you’re my babysitter.”
I backed into the living room, my chest tight. The room seemed to spin, the air disappearing from my lungs as he stalked after me. “I’ll have Rumor issue you a refund and a discount on a new appointment. I…can’t.”
“Excuse me?” Dave’s smile fell, an angry scowl appearing on his round face. “We have an arrangement for tonight. I have everything prepared for us.”
I hit the door without looking back. I couldn’t be in that house a second longer. What was wrong with me? This was my job…the only way I had to make money to keep me on the island. If I couldn’t do my job, what would I do? How would I survive?
How could I stay close to Connor if I couldn’t pay my rent?
But in that moment, none of that mattered. I rushed down the sidewalk, heading for my car. The wind whipped past me, the cold biting into my legs. Tight cotton shorts were not meant for this weather. The thin cropped shirt I wore didn’t help either. My outfit bared far too much of my skin—I must have left my coat in the house. I couldn’t care enough to go back. So long as I could get into my car, so long as I could escape…
“You fucking whore!” Dave’s voice boomed through the night. “I’ve paid you good money for years, Lolita. You owe me.”
I kept moving, refusing to look back. Practically running for my car. Almost there. Almost safe. If I could just get past the couple houses, if I could only hurry past these last few cars. If I could just—
I jumped as someone grabbed my arm, as a man pulled me off the sidewalk and toward an idling car at the curb. As Connor appeared out of nowhere.
Connor? “What—”
“Are you okay? Did he touch you? Did he hurt you?” His frantic voice broke through the panic in my head, though I still couldn’t believe he was there. “Lo, please, tell me you’re okay.” His hands roamed over me, seemed on a mission to find…something. Maybe an injury, maybe a mark. But it was when he brought one hand to my face and gently wiped away the tears I’d apparently shed that I found my voice.
“It’s okay. He didn’t…” I shivered as the wind picked up again, my thoughts scattered, my min
d unable to reconcile that Connor was there. Standing two houses down from where my John lived. I curled in on myself, trying to cover my bare stomach, wishing I’d grabbed my coat if only so he wouldn’t see…this.
“C’mon.” Ever the gentleman, Connor shrugged out of his heavy coat and wrapped it around my shoulders before moving me toward his car. He gave me no options; he didn’t even let me speak. He simply opened the passenger door of his Charger and directed me inside. I was too upset to refuse, too cold to pull away. Too terrified of what he’d heard to do anything more than follow his directions.
Within seconds, he had my door closed and was sliding into his own seat. I couldn’t even look at him, too afraid of the anger I’d see there. The disgust. Still, I had to know…
“Why are you here?” I asked, keeping my eyes on the passing houses as he drove out of the neighborhood.
“I’m here because you’re here.”
I hazarded a glance in his direction. His jaw was clenched, his fury obvious even in the darkness of the car. This would be it—I was going to lose him.
Unable to think about my life without him in it, I focused on the logistics of what had just happened. Had I quit my job? Yes, I think I had. I’d also just left my car behind. My coat, too. Shit.
I looked back at the floor and whispered, “What about my car?”
Connor pulled to a hard stop, the car rocking slightly as his hands gripped the steering wheel. “I’m not taking you back there. I can’t. Please don’t ask me to.”
I shook my head because, really, I didn’t want to go back either.
Connor took a deep breath, his voice a little calmer as he said, “I’ll get my friend Nate to come over with me tomorrow, and we’ll pick it up.”
Okay. Connor would make everything okay. He was still my friend…so far. I looked up into his blue eyes. Barely able to breathe. Barely able to stop trembling. If I didn’t have Connor in my life…
“Home or food?” he asked, his voice tight. His jaw ticking in that way it did when he was frustrated.
I licked my lips, the sick rising in my throat at the sticky sweetness there from the gloss. The gloss, the shorts and crop top…Lolita. I’d never wanted Connor to see me like this. But he had, and I needed to deal with the fallout. But not in his car, and definitely not off the island. “Take me home, please.”
The sight of Lola fleeing that house, the terror on her face so reminiscent of the scene I’d come upon in the alley last week, wouldn’t leave me alone. It replayed over and over in my mind as I sped us across the bridge toward Temperance Falls. Toward home. Lola had been terrified, without a doubt. And whatever had happened in that house…whatever had caused that fear…I hadn’t been able to stop. I hadn’t been able to protect her.
She spent the ride staring silently out the passenger window, never glancing my way. But at least she was no longer crying, so I took that as a good sign. At this point, I’d take any bit of good I could get.
When I pulled up along the curb in front of the four-plex, I went to her side and helped her out of the car. With an arm around her shoulders, I tucked her into my side and led her through the front door of the building. As if on autopilot, she headed toward her door, but that wasn’t happening. No fucking way. After what happened tonight, I hated the idea of her being alone. But that wasn’t exactly right, either. It wasn’t just that I hated the idea of her being by herself. More, I hated the idea of her being where I wasn’t. Not to mention the fact that she lived on the ground floor, shitty locks anyone could break her only protection. She was staying with me. Where I could keep her safe.
“You can stay at my place. At least until I can get your locks replaced, all right?”
With a distracted nod, she allowed me to lead her to my apartment. Walked in as if it were any other evening and we just had plans to watch some TV. But it wasn’t any other evening. There was nothing normal about this. She didn’t drop her coat and go over to the couch, making herself at home with her leg tucked under her like she usually would have. Instead, she stood only a couple steps in from my front door, her arms wrapped around herself, hiding in my too-big coat. Hiding the outfit she had on—short shorts and a crop top, reminiscent of some seventies style gym uniform. I had no idea why the fuck she was wearing something like that, but my cop senses had definitely been sparked. It was a piece to the Lola puzzle—I was sure of it. I just had to figure out how they all fit together.
I wanted nothing more than to walk over and wrap her in my arms, hold her to my chest to remind myself she was okay. So I could feel it. Feel her heartbeat against my chest, feel her breath on my skin. But she kept pulling the coat farther around her, tugging at the bottom as if she could make it longer. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind she was uncomfortable. I just didn’t know why. I didn’t know if it was what had happened tonight—what she’d fled from. If it was me taking her home like some kind of jealous boyfriend. If it was the fact that she had on minuscule clothing under my coat. Regardless, I needed to make it better. Needed to make her feel settled. Safe.
“Are you hungry?”
No words. Just a simple shake of her head, her eyes still avoiding mine.
I had no idea what to do to make her feel comfortable. This was new territory for us. From the beginning, the very first day she’d moved in, we’d always been at ease around each other. It was almost eerie how effortlessly we’d fallen into a close friendship. Now there was a giant elephant in the room, and I didn’t know how to address it.
“Do you wanna sit? Watch some TV?” As long as she was with me, I didn’t care what we did.
She looked over her shoulder toward the door. “I need to go downstairs. I can’t—” She shifted on her feet, tugging my coat closer around her. “I don’t want to keep wearing this costume.” Her voice caught on the last word, disgust dripping from her tone. If she had said nearly any other word, I wouldn’t have thought anything of it. But it was that specific use that waved a red flag. Made my stomach sink with dread. Slotted more of those puzzle pieces into place.
The hours she kept, her secrecy, her aloofness the entire time we’d been friends, keeping me at arm’s length even though I was sure I’d seen glimpses of longing on her face when she looked at me. The asshole running out after her tonight, calling her a whore… I’d been a cop long enough to see the commonality in the clues, to notice they were all pointing in the same direction. A direction I couldn’t stand to think about. Not because I looked down on her for doing whatever she needed to to survive, but because I hated the idea of her doing anything that would compromise her safety.
“I’ve got something you can wear.” My voice was rough, harsh thoughts making my words come out sharper than I’d intended. The last thing she needed tonight was to be bossed around. Getting my tone under control, I asked, “Is that okay?”
Those perfectly straight teeth sank into her bottom lip, brushed with some kind of sparkly pink gloss. It was so unlike her, I wanted to wipe it off myself. Wanted my Lo back. “Sure. Yeah.”
With a nod, I led her into my bedroom, darting a glance around to make sure it was presentable. While she’d spent countless nights hanging out in my apartment, she’d never breached this boundary, never stepped foot into my bedroom. It’d been an unspoken agreement between us.
I hadn’t bothered making my bed that morning, so the covers were rumpled, the pillows haphazard. I cringed, thinking I should at least get her clean sheets so she’d feel comfortable. But first, something for her to change into…
I grabbed her a sweatshirt from my drawer because she kept wrapping my coat tighter around her. I wasn’t sure if it was because she was cold, or if it had more to do with the fact that she’d called what she wore under it a costume. It didn’t matter. “I’ll let you get changed.”
She nodded. “Connor, I—”
I froze halfway through the doorway, my back to her as I waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, I glanced back at her over my shoulder. “Yeah?”
She stared at me for a moment, then dropped her eyes and shook her head. “Nothing.”
I wanted to let her know she could tell me anything. Anything. Even if it was the one thing I was pretty sure I’d already figured out. I wanted to tell her she could unload on me, cry, scream, rage, beat her fists against my chest—whatever she needed if it helped. Anything if it made her smile again. Instead, I nodded and walked out of the room, closing the door gently behind me.
Long minutes ticked by before the door opened and out she came, fingering the hem of my sweatshirt. She was petite—almost a foot shorter than I was—but her bare legs looked a mile long as they peeked out under the oversize sweatshirt. I wanted to feel those legs wrapped around my hips. Wanted them pressed against my ears as she came all over my tongue.
“Where should I sleep?”
Feeling like an asshole for even thinking about that after the night she’d had, I shook the fantasies from my head. “You can stay in my room tonight, and I’ll sleep out here. Let me just change the sheets for you.”
“Don’t. There’s no need to go to so much trouble.”
I nodded, hating how much I loved the idea of her scent mixing with mine in my bed. “Tomorrow, I’ll go to the hardware store and get replacement locks for your windows, okay?”
“You don’t have to do that. Honestly.”
I really did, though. I had to. In the two years she’d been in my life, somewhere along the way, I’d started to think of her as mine. “Yes, I do.”
“Thank you.” Her voice came out as a soft whisper, and then she turned away, the bedroom door snicking shut behind her.
I thought about her settling into my bed, into sheets that still smelled like me. Thought of her dark hair spilling over my pillow. Thought of what it’d be like to lay with her, curl myself around her, and…comfort her. There was no doubt I wanted to fuck her. Wanted to know what she felt like from the inside. Wanted to know if she liked having her clit sucked, if she liked having her tits played with. Wanted to know the noises she made when she came. But more than that, I wanted to make sure she knew she was safe with me.
