Touch of Evil by C.T. Adams

Author:C.T. Adams
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates
Published: 2006-06-11T16:00:00+00:00

11

We left within minutes, after I gave Tom my building key—and after multiple promises that I would be careful and I would keep him advised. It was sort of nice to have someone worried about me. But it was also scary.

I drove down to Colfax to look for Dusty, Voneen or both. I had to admit that driving was a bit easier with the shoulder all numb. But I didn’t look forward to tomorrow; again, if there was a tomorrow. Boy, aren’t I just a ray of sunshine?

The rules said I couldn’t run and couldn’t leave town, but it’s harder to hit an unpredictable moving target. That’s me all right. Unpredictable and moving.

I parked Edna at a burger stand and sprinted across Colfax with the light. You have to sprint on Colfax, even when you have the light—and suddenly I was standing in front of the place. The building is both unassuming and gaudy. Neon screams at passers-by about the variety of X-rated offerings available inside, but the building itself is low-key, with wood paneling and brick, and tastefully small windows. It’s right at the edge of the Capitol Hill residential area, full of old towering houses that are once again becoming trendy. The shop has to stay low-key or it will die.

A pair of bikers were just swinging off their bikes as I walked by. The first guy, a blond, wearing a scarf tied around his head, lowered his sunglasses as I walked by.

“Whoa! Now there’s something worth stopping here for!” I continued to walk, ignoring the comment and the resounding whistle from his buddy. I’m used to fending off catcalls when I run. “C’ mon, baby. How much for a couple of hours?”

“Not for sale,” I finally said when I felt movement behind me. The pair kept following. They smelled of gasoline, oil and sweat. I was really not up to dealing with these two. I wanted to get what information I could and get off the street. I shrugged off the jacket. Most guys, when they see the wrist sheaths over my thick forearm muscles, will back off.

A low whistle eased into my ears. The voice that followed was a whisper of excitement so strong that I knew it wasn’t faked. “Hit me, hurt me, beat me, burn me—take me with you, mistress.”

I stopped cold with wide eyes and blushed to my fingertips. That was not the reaction I expected. I did what any sane person would do. I retreated. The light just turned, so I bolted over to the next block. The pair didn’t follow. They just laughed and elbowed each other in the ribs at my discomfort and entered the lounge.

I put the jacket back on quickly and tried to figure out my next move. I didn’t know if I could go inside to ask questions. I could do violence just fine. But sex and violence?

“If you keep running from the customers, honey, you won’t last long in this business. Mmm-hmm. Take it from someone who knows.

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