4. Chapter 4

Chapter four

Sammy

T here is an edge to this late night breeze. A hint of chill. Summer is dying and winter is on its way. It's depressing. I frigging hate winter. The cold, the damp, the dark.

Maybe if I get to stay at the house for a few more months it won't be so bad. I bet the heating works. And I haven't seen any leaks from the roof.

A shiver wracks my body. I want to pull my jacket closed, but there is no point hiding the goods. This pink mesh top leaves little to the imagination and I want people to yearn for more. Want it enough to pay me.

So, yeah, the cold wind can go fuck itself. I need to bag a customer and get paid. Even though it is not looking very likely. I thought this street corner looked promising, but I guess it is too far out from the red-light district. Dammit. I don't want to get mixed up in gang bullshit ever again, but staying out of their territory and being discreet is bullshit.

What the fuck am I going to do? All the escort agencies belong to various gangs. So I'm screwed. Well, not screwed, which is entirely the problem.

But wait a minute, this car looks promising. It is slowing right down.

Sure enough, it stops beside me and the window winds down. I put on my best flirtatious smile. The middle-aged businessman gives me a long, appraising once over .

"How much?" he asks.

I lean right through the open window.

"Well darling, that depends on what you are after. A suck or a fuck?"

I drag my teeth over my bottom lip and draw out the eff sound in the word fuck, and sure enough, his gaze fixes on my lips. Seizing the moment, I run my tongue lavishly over my plump, juicy goodness.

And then I'm falling backwards onto the pavement and landing on my ass. What the hell? The car disappears in a screech of tires. For fuck's sake.

I jump back up to my feet, whip my mace out of my pocket, and brandish it at my attacker.

Blue glares back at me.

"Blue? What the hell are you doing here?" I ask as I put my mace away.

The siren is wearing a cute blue leather jacket. I wonder if he will let me borrow it one day.

"He was going to hurt you," says Blue with a surprising amount of venom.

I sigh heavily. "No he wasn't, sweetheart. I was going to suck his cock and he was going to give me money."

Blue just stares at me. For fucks sake. He has lost me my only customer. This is so not what I need right now.

"I have money," says Blue quietly.

I raise an eyebrow. "And what, you want me to suck your cock?"

A look of absolute horror and dread flows over Blue's pretty face and he stumbles backwards a few steps. Oh shit, I'm such a fucking asshole. Look at me snapping at the traumatized, recently freed sex slave.

"Shit! I'm sorry Blue. I'm sorry I'm a shithead. My mouth doesn't listen to my brain half the time."

He stops edging backwards, but he is still eyeing me warily .

"I'm sorry, I really am. I was grumpy about losing the customer," I plead.

He nods, but he still looks deeply unsettled. Dammit. This night is such a bust. I should have just stayed in my room and got drunk. Very drunk.

"Why are you here?" I ask despondently.

I really hope he isn't here to tell me not to come back to the house.

He squirms and turns a lovely shade of pink. "I was worried about you."

And doesn't that just hit me in the feels. I upset him the other day. He barely knows me, but he somehow miraculously gives a shit? Enough of a shit to be trapesing after me in the middle of the night? He must be one of those shining people who cares about everyone. Even still, having someone care is enough of an oddity that I'm not going to take it for granted.

"I'm starving," I say suddenly. "How about we go for a burger?"

He nods tentatively, and I take that as a win. He follows me silently as I lead the way to the nearest fast food place. It's open 24 hours, and strip lights, plastic tables and shit coffee always make me feel at home. Lord knows I've spent enough time in them over the years. Especially on cold winter nights when I didn't have anywhere else to go.

His bright blue eyes look around with interest as we step inside, and it makes me wonder how familiar he is with human things. And now I'm wondering how the hell I'm so okay with all this paranormal stuff. I'm putting it down to my life always being chaotic and eventful, so what's one more dose of crazy?

"Do you know what you want?" I ask.

Blue shakes his head, still looking like a kid in a candy store. Part amazed, part overwhelmed. I chuckle and order for us both. But as I fish my bank card out of my pocket, he stops me.

"I should provide for you." He freezes, blushes and then continues. "I mean, I'll pay. "

He pulls out a grandpa style leather wallet out of his jeans pocket and opens it up. It's stuffed with notes. I mean stuffed. The wallet is bursting at the seams.

A little yelp escapes and I try covering it with my hand before anyone else sees, but the cashier's eyes are already bugging out. I try to pull one note out, but they are all fifties. What the actual hell? Eventually I find a twenty and then hiss at Blue to put his grandad wallet away.

I pay the cashier and then hustle Blue over to a table to wait for our number to be called.

"You'll get mugged flashing your cash like that!" I say.

"Oh," he says sadly.

Maybe he doesn't need to be worried about being mugged. He is a siren, after all. He probably has all sorts of freaky powers, apart from his ability to sing and lure people to their deaths. I'm probably worrying about nothing.

"Where the hell did you get all that from anyway?" I ask.

Call me nosy, but I really want to know.

"Red gave it to me. He says there is more in a bank account and to tell him when I run out."

"Why is Red giving you money?"

Blue's eyes glitter in the strip lights. "It's my money. Com. Pen. Sation."

The way he says it as three separate words has me confused for a moment. And then it clicks. Compensation. Seems like paranormals have some sort of victim support fund and Blue got a payout from being imprisoned by a billionaire. I fucking hope the money has been taken right out of the bastard's accounts.

Our number is called, and I go up to get our tray. As I sit back down, Blue barks a question at me.

"Why are you selling yourself?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Because I need money."

Blue reaches for his wallet and I stop him with a gasp.

"No, Blue. That's your money. I need my own. "

He frowns and pops a fry in his mouth. His eyes widen and he quickly shovels several more fries into his mouth. I chuckle and tuck into my own food far more sedately.

"Your parents have money," states Blue.

"You mean Gray and Mal?" I ask, because I sure as hell don't have any birth parents.

He nods.

I sigh. "I'm a grown-assed man. I need to pay my own way."

Blue gives me a deeply skeptical look. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-one."

His eyes grow enormous and he nearly chokes on his first bite of burger.

"That's…that's… you are just a baby!" he gasps, and he looks genuinely horrified and concerned.

In my world, twenty-one is ancient. Foster care kicks you out at sixteen. I know plenty of people my age with a couple of kids. Or in jail. Or who never made it this far. I know in other circles, twenty-one is graduating university and only just finishing education. Which is wild to me. I think I was fourteen the last time I went to school. My shitty, much older boyfriend didn't like me going.

But Blue has had a much harder life, and he looks the same age as me. So I don't know what's got into him with this whole baby crap. He must be one of these idiots that thinks a year or two makes a huge difference.

"So, what are you? Two hundred and something?" I tease.

He nods.

Oh fuck, he is not joking. Oh my god! This is unreal. He doesn't have a wrinkle on him. He is all cute baby face and choppy blond hair and gorgeous Pacific blue eyes.

"I don't want you selling yourself," he says with a very intense look on his face.

I blink while my mind tries to process that, but nope, it doesn't make sense. I take a bite of my burger and chew .

"That's not your decision, Blue."

He scowls. "You could get hurt…and it's not nice to have to… do that."

Oh he is such a sweetheart. I reach out and place my hand over his. None of the boys talk much about the harem, why would they? But I've heard bits and pieces. I know they all coped with it in different ways and that Blue was the most scared. I know they all tried to save him when they could.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," I promise him. "It doesn't bother me."

He gives me a strange look. "You like it?"

Fuck. Another kick right in the feels and this one feels like it struck me right in the nuts. The bollocks of feels. And it's awful. It hurts, and the pain is shooting all through me. Because, no, I don't like it. And nobody has ever asked that before, so I rarely think about how much I hate selling myself. Why would I think about it? It's not like I've ever had a choice. I cope by drifting along in blissful denial, and now it's all tumbling down. All because Blue asked me three little words.

My skin is crawling, but I ignore it to plaster on my brightest smile. "Of course!" I say, far too brightly. "I love it. Wouldn't do it otherwise."

Blue is watching me intently. It feels as if he is peering into my very soul and can see all of my lies. But he just gives me a suspicious look and slurps on his milkshake.

Fuck. I'm so fucked.