CONTAINS CONTENT:
innuendo / adult themes
Another room full of stale coffee and radiants. Vincent stood at the front, preparing to speak while everyone stood ready to train their weapons on him should he pull anything from his body.
Austin yawned, covering it with the back of his right wrist. He put his hand down and used his left hand to pull his sleeve down a little farther, as it had ridden up when he’d done this. Marielle thought this was odd, particularly since it wasn’t cold in here. He sipped some more coffee and checked his watch.
“All right, Vincent,” Liam began as he exchanged glances with several others in the room, “what’s their ultimate goal?”
Vincent straightened his spine. “Their plan is to come over here and find the perfect spot to set down a device called the spike.”
“The spike?” Sabine asked with a raise of her brow.
He made eye contact with her briefly. “Oui.”
Marielle watched him look at her, and for a moment, she felt intense jealousy. She could tell he found Sabine attractive. His eyes always lingered on her just a moment longer than anyone else, and then he would look away as if trying to convince himself he wasn’t interested.
“It’s a device we created with stable fusion to clear a path for bridging our worlds.” He took a deep breath. “If it goes off, it will clear a space of about”—he lifted his left hand and teetered it one way, then the other—“a mile radius of all living things.”
“That’s a lot of people who could get caught in the wrong place,” Klara noted. Vincent nodded in response.
“Why would they do that?” Liam asked.
“Because it also clears the area of all radianite and bridges our worlds so they can come over with the bigger bomb.”
“Bigger?”
“Oui, the one that will kill everyone on the planet.” He swallowed hard. “They come, they plant, they leave, they wait, they come back and inhabit this world as their own.” Everyone was silent for a moment, processing not only his explanation but what it meant for everyone. “They also plan on stealing large amounts of your radianite because theirs is lethal, yet it provides so many useful advances in technology and research.” He paused. “In my dimension, we found a way to feed an additional thirty-five percent of the Venezuelan population, which helped the entire country get back on its feet and rejoin the global economy again.”
“So, what do we do?” Jamie asked from the back of the room.
Vincent put his left hand behind his back and straightened his posture. “I propose that we go there and do it first.”
“You want us to go to this other dimension and kill everyone there?” Efia asked, narrowing her lovely dark eyes at Vincent.
“Not everyone,” he corrected, lifting his free hand as if to demonstrate compassion. “Just Valorant.”
“But you said that they’re dying anyway,” Barbara pointed out.
Vincent sighed. “They have plenty of time to plot between now and their demise. I think of it like this…” He looked like he was trying to choose the right words as he stood with both hands dangling in the air for a moment. “If we shut down Valorant, we shut down the project to come here and destroy all of us, but then at least the remaining people in my dimension have some time to figure out how to save themselves. Other methods have already been suggested; they just aren’t trying any of them. However, if they have no way over here, they must turn to the other solutions. They might survive.”
“But they might not,” replied Tala.
“Oui. We have to decide whether we are willing to risk that or not. Given that they are more than willing to come over here and steal your world, I believe acting first would be in our best interest.”
Everyone was silent for a minute. “You are aware, Mr. Fabron, that in a span of twenty-four hours you have told us that you are untrustworthy, but that we should also believe you enough to cross dimensions and kill doubles of ourselves on the other side?” Liam stated.
Sabine cut her eyes at Vincent coldly.
Vincent nodded. “I don’t know how you can trust me, Monsieur. Admittedly, that is my fault.”
“You said they can come back?” Tala asked sheepishly.
“Oui… and they will. When I left, they didn’t have the technology to world-hop yet, and the prototypes of the devices only allowed for one person to cross dimensions at a time. I will state plainly that I stole the technology to come here,” Vincent explained. “I thought they were many years away from achieving that without my help. My mistake.” The room was again silent. Someone coughed. “But they will come back, and my guess is that they will attempt to find a site to plant the spike, most likely in an area filled with radianite.”
Austin glanced at his watch. “Do we have any way of confirming any of this?” he asked.
People around the room looked at each other. Several eyes fell on Marielle because they all knew she was the profiler and would know if Vincent was lying.
“I mean…” Marielle began, “doubles of ourselves obviously came through a portal of some kind and tried to kill us. Kirra”—she glanced at the redhead—“can you find out if they were dying?”
“That’s honestly something I didn’t check for,” she said with a distant look. Then she nodded once. “I can do that, yes.”
Marielle looked to Austin with a small shrug. “It’s a start,” she said quietly. Then she glanced at Liam.
He seemed to be agreeing with her by nodding. “Yeah, get on that, Kirra. I want to know what you find as soon as you find it.”
“Can we honestly stop this charade with the guards and…?” Marielle’s voice drifted as she gestured to Vincent. “We all know he can get out of here any time he wants. He obviously doesn’t want to.”
“Pretty sure we know why,” Sabine growled under her breath.
No one said anything. Vincent continued to stand straight and tall, one hand behind his back. He eyed nearly everyone in the room, his gaze lingering a moment on Austin, who refused to meet his gaze. He was bouncing his knee… a lot, in fact. Enough that Barbara said, “A little less coffee, Dr. Rancor.” He stopped immediately.
He’s afraid of Vincent? Marielle thought, although she didn’t know why. More information to be filed for a later time.
“Vincent…” Liam began, then paused. “I understand that your double is also Vincent, but for the sake of clarity, I’ll refer to him as Chamber from now on.” Vincent nodded, and Liam continued. “Do you know what Chamber is doing right now?”
Vincent shook his head. “I honestly have no idea.”
Marielle narrowed her eyes in thought. Generally, using “honestly” in front of an answer meant one of two things: an attempt at emphasizing, or an attempt to look innocent. Which was it this time? She couldn’t say.
“And this… Cory and Finola O’Fallon… Can you help us figure out how to fight them?” Kirra asked Vincent.
“To the best of my abilities, yes.”
Liam looked at Barbara and opened a hand. “This is what I’m going to do,” he said. “If Kirra discovers that these radiant doubles were in fact on their way to the grave, I’ll lift the house arrest order in the morning and allow you to move around freely, but only on campus. We’ll take the next step over the weekend. Sound good?”
Vincent gave him a small bow. “It’s all I can ask for at the moment. I know none of you trust me.”
“You told us not to,” Sabine said as she got up and left without looking back.
“Kiritani.” Liam gestured to Vincent. “Take him back to Room Ten for now. We’ll talk again soon, Mr. Fabron. Do you have a book or two up there to keep you busy?”
“Oui, thank you.”
The meeting was adjourned and everyone filed out, headed back to their classes or training. Marielle knew she had to start cooking soon if she was going to do it at all, and she’d announced it just before Liam had called the meeting.
She went to Vincent. “I’ll bring you some food soon?”
“I would like that. I wouldn’t mind continuing where we left off,” he said in a low, gravelly voice as he slipped his fingers into the ends of her hair and gently pulled them through.
Her cheeks deepened a few shades. “Where did we leave off?” she whispered flirtatiously. He smirked as Kiritani led him away.
Marielle went to the kitchen and got to work. A few of the others stopped in and chatted with her, vying to be the first to taste a soufflé. Jamie came by for an apple and leaned on the counter for a while to watch her work, tossing it back and forth between his hands as they chatted mindlessly. He eventually left after realizing the time. After a while, Mateo showed up too, and he lingered.
“You don’t have to wait, you know? I’ll tell you when it’s ready.”
“Nah, I’m going to have first pick,” he said. Wingman was out of Marielle’s view behind the island, but she heard him babble some nonsense. “Yeah, you’ll get some too, buddy.”
When the timer went off, Marielle pulled twenty-four soufflés from the ovens and called for everyone. They all came running. Several agents passed on them, which made her glad because a few of the soufflés had fallen. This was normal, which was why her parents had always prepared three for every two they needed at the restaurant.
She took one and set it on a plate. Grabbing a fork, she walked it to the elevator and up to Austin’s office. She knocked, but didn’t wait for him to tell her to come in.
He clicked a few times around his screen and looked at her, smiling. She knew instantly what he had been doing, but offered him a soft, sad smile. Licking his lips, he stood up from his desk and came around to the front, his movements jerky and full of nerves.
Nice distraction technique, Austin, trying so hard to get my attention off the computer and on you. I know, Austin, I know.
He was still just barely trembling when she presented him with the plate. “No way,” he said, his eyes lighting up as he took the outstretched delicacy from her. He sat down on the couch and admired it for a moment before smiling at her, taking up the fork, and digging in.
When he took a bite, he closed his eyes, savoring. “Wow…”
“Good, right?” she asked, sitting with him.
“I mean… uh…” He took another bite. “Have you had any?”
“No,” she replied with a small shrug as she tucked her chin into her shoulder. He beamed at her; her move had been flirtatious, and she knew it. Why did I do that? “I just know what it tastes like. I’ve made them several times.”
He shook his head as his eyes slid closed again. “It’s…” He searched for words. “Savory, creamy… and rich.” He ate a bit off the end of his thumb. It was a calculated move, but he was good at making it look natural and subtle. “Salty.” He sighed, and leaned back against the couch, going limp like he was dead. Even the fork went limp. She laughed and clapped her hands a few times.
“That—I… uh…” He took another bite after sitting up. “What the hell…? How did you do this?”
“I’ve just done it a lot of times,” she said again with a small shrug.
He pulled the fork from his mouth slowly, and then offered it to her. “Have some.”
She shook her head. “It’s all for you.”
“I can share a bite,” he said with a smile. “I can’t stand to eat alone.”
She took the fork from him and obeyed. “You’re right, that’s really good.”
He took the fork back and made a feigned disgusted sound, popping it back into his mouth and pulling it back out. She laughed again. “So, Vincent’s stuck here for now?”
“Yeah.” She sighed, looking around the office again. “When did you do these?” she asked, standing and going to study some of the pictures on the left wall.
He jumped up after her. “Well, a few of these are from a class in college.” He gestured. “The ballerina, she let me take photos of her during a recital.”
“You took these during an actual recital?” Marielle’s eyes widened as she turned to him, hoping to catch a glimpse of his computer screen. He was good at clicking everything off quickly. All that remained were a few words in an otherwise blank document.
“And the bodybuilder?” She pointed to a photo of a Black man’s veiny arm muscles straining to lift a red barbell, the dark background a dramatic setting that emphasized the vivid color against his skin.
“Just a friend at the time,” he said dismissively.
True. She moved a little behind his desk. There was nothing offensive on the screen anymore, but even now he scratched the back of his head nervously as if she’d find him out.
“You’re looking around my office a lot. Something you want to see?”
“Something you don’t want me to find?” she retorted.
He smirked at this and crossed his arms over his chest defiantly.
She went to the window and looked out. “You were watching us the other day.”
“Just concerned,” he replied.
“Are you?” She looked over her left shoulder at him.
Austin came a bit closer. “Yeah.” True. There was an odd, tense pause. “Are we about to kiss?” he asked.
It was obviously a joke. She rolled her eyes at him, then picked up a photo that resided on a shelf under the window behind his desk. This one depicted a deep-red rose in full bloom against a dark charcoal background, its petals round and perfect. Light droplets of moisture dotted its delicate surface and dripped from the petals. It was beautiful, and subtly yet deeply erotic… just like him. It was like the emphasis Vincent had put on those words that first day: flower…petals…bloom… wet… dripping… dark…
Marielle looked at Austin knowingly. He’d just done something similar with the soufflé. Savory… creamy… rich… suck… salty. Maybe he knew she was on to him, maybe he didn’t. He gave her a sly smile. They both knew.
She put it down. “It’s beautiful, Austin.”
“I’m with you. It’s one of my favorites.”
That didn’t shock her. She glanced around his office once more before checking the time.
“Go out with me tonight.”
It came out of nowhere. She turned and glared at him, but was unable to stop a smile. “A bit forward.”
“No, I…” He lifted his hands. “Just friends. Drinks… or something.”
“I don’t think I have the stomach for alcohol right now, honestly,” she sighed.
He took another step toward her, and now he was close enough to make her feel a bit uncomfortable, although he wasn’t daring any boundary space. “Doughnuts and coffee,” he suggested. She grinned. “Look, for better or worse, Vincent is stuck here for a few more days, okay? You’d honestly be doing me a favor.”
She quirked a brow and buried her chin in her right shoulder. “How’s that?”
“I get in trouble when I’m left alone too long.”
“Who would have guessed,” she deadpanned.
His tone and body language grew serious. “I promise I won’t try anything. I just want to spend time with you.”
True. She reminded herself that she’d already taken him back to her apartment, and he hadn’t tried anything there. “Okay, Austin, I’ll go out with you.”
“Okay,” he replied, obviously excited. “After work?”
She nodded.
The rest of the work day came and went far too quickly. Marielle had her appointment with Tayane, who didn’t say much during their hour-long session beyond listing her favorite musicians, and when she took a break, she noted Kiritani leaving Austin’s office, presumably after an appointment with him.
After some water and a quick stop to the bathroom to freshen up, she waited on the steps outside until Austin came out, gray suit coat slung over his arm. “Come on, I’ll drive,” he said, helping her up and to his car. “There’s a place just a few blocks down. I love it.”
“I know the place you’re talking about, I think. Over by the water?”
He nodded, walking backward for a moment before whirling to open the door for her. She mock-curtsied, and he closed her in with a salacious smile before going to his side and ducking in.
Near the beach was an area that melted into the pier that was alive with restaurants, an arcade, a brightly-lit Ferris wheel, a bowling alley, and small shops that sold candy, hot dogs, silly toys, seashell bikinis, and flower leis. It was raucous with noise, and the scent of the sea mixed with the sweet and savory food aromas in the air. Marielle and Austin walked along the pier for a while, talking about nothing in particular. He purchased cotton candy and ate it as they strolled, chatting about the hot weather.
“I’m never hot,” he reminded her.
She rolled her eyes at the irony of it all. He was always hot, but he was never hot… ha ha.
They came to the coffee shop and went in. The dimly lit interior had been painted in dark colors and the walls hung with mirrors and vintage photos.
Austin went to the register, where a cute girl with pink hair was taking orders. “Hey,” he said, leaning over the counter and rubbing his hands together.
Marielle swallowed and looked away. She knew what was going on there, and she wondered if he was doing it to gauge her reaction, or if he was just acting on instinct. He wasn’t looking at her anymore at all…
To gauge my reaction, she thought. He wants to know if I’m jealous that he’s suddenly giving this girl attention in a way that could be construed as flirtation. I won’t respond.
“Hi,” the girl replied, then added in an overly friendly tone, “Welcome.”
“We’ll take… uh…” He finally acknowledged Marielle again. “Do you want me to surprise you, or…?” She shrugged, deciding to play along. “Two cinnamon lattes, please… Jan-ice.” He said her name with a purposeful little hitch that Marielle knew the cashier caught, too.
Marielle went and sat at a table near a window so she could watch the Ferris wheel. If he thought he was getting her on that thing tonight, he was gravely mistaken. She could just imagine being trapped at the top with Austin as he stared her down until she was blue in the face from holding her breath… Yeah, not happening. It sure was pretty, though.
He came to the table with their drinks and sat down on the opposite side in a big comfy chair. “You walked away.”
“You looked like you knew what you were doing.” She left that statement hanging in the air with almost no tone.
He set the coffees on the table and he gave her a smile that said he was desperately trying to read her. “You know you’re never gonna sleep after this.” He gestured to the giant mug of coffee, which looked more like a bowl with a handle.
“It’s fine. I slept well last night.”
“Oh?” he asked, perhaps remembering her comment about thinking about him instead of Vincent.
“Yeah.” She watched the people around them for a few minutes. “So… I’m saving you, am I?”
“Pretty much,” he replied with a smile.
“What do you do, go bar hopping?”
Austin nodded. “Pretty much,” he repeated, rolling his lips in. “There’s a bar down the street. I’d be there now scouting… if I wasn’t here.” He shook his head and chuckled. “Okay, topic change. You don’t want to hear about all of that.”
“You’re right, I don’t.” Again, she left that statement toneless.
He continued to look at her with that “I have to figure you out” expression set deeply in his blue eyes. “We could do it, you know,” he ventured. “Have a relationship?”
She wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, so she decided to go with it. “Nah, we’d always be on top of each other.”
He was lifting the coffee to his lips but paused, his eyes flickering with interest. “Well, that’s the idea.”
She flushed, just now realizing how that had sounded, and put her face into her hand for a moment. “Austin! Not what I meant! I meant we’d always be trying to read one another.” She cupped her cheek with her palm and drank her coffee. “We’d always be in each other’s heads.”
“You’re right,” he said with a sigh, then took a sip of his coffee. “We should stay friends… who have sex.”
She broke into laughter too easily at this, and shrank a little for it. He was laughing, too. “You know I like Vincent, right?”
“Yeah, I know, but you like me too,” he replied, cocky. She shook her head. “Anyway, the French aren’t even rated among the top lovers in the world.” He put his coffee down, acting cavalier. Her eyes widened. “I’m serious, look it up. They’re like sixth or something, I dunno.”
“Oh, yeah, and who comes before them?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring him down.
He screwed his eyes up for a moment as if thinking, but it was fake. He knew his answer already. “Italians?”
“Yeah? And what are you, Austin?”
He lifted the drink back to his mouth. “Italian?” he replied in exactly the same tone.
Both laughed at that. None of this was serious; he was just playing around at this point.
“And you’re not trying to seduce me, Austin Rancor?” she asked.
His smile started to fade. “When I’m trying to seduce you?” A pregnant pause. “You’ll know.”
He said it far too tenderly for her to know how to feel about it. Uncomfortable, she turned to the people outside again.
“Right, you wanted a doughnut,” he muttered under his breath, and he got up to go back to the register.
She said nothing. Right, he wants to talk to Jan-ice again… The body language was everything. It was sick—the girl was half his age, and she was falling for it hook, line, and sinker.
Marielle thanked him when he brought an old-fashioned buttermilk back to her. “So, where’d you grow up?” she asked, nibbling at the doughnut.
“New York, actually.” He continued to drink, blow into the cup, and sip.
“Yeah? What part?” she asked with genuine interested.
“Harlem, the Bronx… Italian,” he replied, gesturing to himself. Then he ran his fingers through his hair. She loved when men did that.
“And why did you want to become a profiler?”
“Uh, my dad got me into it… My adoptive father, actually.”
“Oh, you’re adopted.” She flicked her eyes at him curiously.
“Yeah.” He pursed his lips for a moment in thought. “I think I’ve always been able to read people well because of my difficult past.”
She cupped her chin and drummed her cheek. “Well, now you have me curious.”
“Yeah,” he said contemplatively, “but we’re not going there tonight.”
“Someday?” she pressed.
Austin rubbed his right forearm for a moment. “Maybe.” He’d never faltered or looked away from her face until then. He had been staring almost as deeply and intently as Vincent had earlier, and it made her want to squirm. She also noted the arm. This was the second time he’d done something with that arm today.
“What about you?”
“Uh, grew up around here. French, remember?”
“Right.” Another sip, then he licked his lips. “So your parents were from France…” It was more of a statement.
“Mm-hmm. Little town, dreams of America, all of that.”
He leaned back, watching her again as his middle finger stroked his bottom lip, and she had a hard time not thinking about how he was probably undressing her with his eyes. There was no hint that that was what he was doing, but she felt it all the same.
“Tell me everything about you.”
“Oh, everything, huh?” she giggled. Oops. Shouldn’t have giggled. She wanted to pull it back in, but it was too late. “Well, I have a weird mole.”
He looked shocked. “No way, me too. Back here?” He pointed behind his right ear.
She also feigned shock. “Yeah! What the hell?”
“Twinsies,” he said ironically, and that particular tone was one of the first times she noted that he sounded effeminate. It didn’t sound like an attempt to be funny, but they chuckled for a moment.
“Seriously, what do you want to know?” She sipped her coffee. “This is really good, by the way.”
“Seriously,” he said, eyes glittering and a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth, “everything.”
Feeling small, Marielle fell silent and shifted her gaze to the people outside again. A family walked by: a mother, father, older daughter, younger son… Austin turned, watching them intently as well with a strange, desperate longing in his eyes. It was barely there, but it existed somewhere in the back of his mind. Not for me, she realized he must be thinking. I could have had it. I screwed it up.
His sadness was fleeting. A moment later, he was back to looking at her and sipping his coffee. She noted out of the corner of her left eye that he was bouncing his knee again. He’d been doing that in the meeting room before lunch… before…
Oh… he’s slipping, she thought. It’s been a few hours since he’s gotten his fix. She started to wonder how long she’d be able to keep him here without him needing to find an excuse to be alone. How much is he trying to get me to say? He really just wants me to talk about sex, doesn’t he? He can’t stop himself. She felt sorry for him.
“How ya doin’ there?” She gestured with her head to his knee.
They both knew what she was referring to. He checked his watch. “About six-and-a-half hours.”
“Really?” She drummed her lip for a moment, and both of them were silent.
“Do you know that you’re the first person who’s ever really figured me out like that?” he asked.
She nodded. “Actually, I do know that, Austin.” She fanned herself. It was too darn hot in this coffee shop. She looked down toward the water. “Let’s go down to the beach,” she whispered, and even though she didn’t mean it to, it sounded full of purpose.
He smirked and followed her, slipping his gray suit jacket on.
It was hot and dark but windy, and the two of them walked down to the sand until they were about twenty feet from the waves gently lapping the shore. They sat in the sand and watched the water twinkle under the moonlight.
Even in the gentle breeze, Marielle fanned herself. Austin looked around, then cupped his hands over his mouth, tilted his head down, and breathed onto the sand, which cooled instantly around them. She sighed with relief. He smiled.
She was keenly aware of Austin watching her profile as the wind pulled her dark hair across her face. “It’s a nice night,” she said.
He replied with an inarticulate sound of agreement.
Marielle thought about the two of them, hidden from all passersby in the shadows and the cool sand under the pier, soft breaths turning hard. She didn’t exactly want to have these thoughts, nor was she enjoying them, but she knew Austin was having these thoughts. She could see it all over his face. He was glancing at the very spot under the pier where she knew he’d drag her.
“You haven’t tried anything,” she observed aloud.
He looked over at her, his expression mildly concerned that she thought he would. “I promised you I wouldn’t.” She paused for a moment, thinking about his words. “Marielle, I don’t make promises too, too often… but when I do, I’d rather die than not keep them.”
She drew lines in the sand with her fingertips. “But you’re thinking about it,” she whispered, and he nodded. “Planning your moves…”
“Yeah,” he replied, a frustrated, tortured look on his face, “and then clearing them and starting all over again.” He smirked. “It’s fun.”
“What’s it like?” she pressed. She turned to face him, and again, her words were more in line with trying to figure him out than anything else. Vincent had told her to be careful around Austin, and yet, here he was, being strangely trustworthy… Why? “Like, what are you thinking right now?”
He lifted his brows, looking surprised for a second. “Uh…” He smiled abashedly, then grew more confident. “Okay, I’m thinking about your hair, and how it’s stuck on your face by the wind and how you haven’t moved it”—his speech slowed as he became more serious—“which means you want me to.”
She stared him down, smiled, lifted her hand, and tucked her hair behind her ear. He nodded, accepting that rejection.
Marielle drew tic-tac-toe in the sand, and they played several rounds while they chatted. She was pretty sure he gave her most of the wins. After they talked for thirty minutes or so about everything and nothing, Austin drove her home and let her out. She waved him off, keenly aware that he was watching to make sure she got into the apartment building safely.
***
Still standing where he’d dropped her off, Austin closed his eyes for a moment and took several deep breaths. He lifted his hand. It was starting to tremble; he was fading, and fast. He needed his next fix.
Just get home. Just get home. Don’t make any more trouble for yourself tonight. Just get home.
He came to a red light near the bar he frequented and closed his eyes tightly. He had no idea how he would be able to tell when the light turned green, but hopefully someone would honk at him, or he would just instinctively know. If he shut the bar out, he could pretend it wasn’t there.
And yet, the devil always knows…
Austin had only been trying to keep himself under control for a moment when he heard the all-too-familiar sound. “Hey, honey, looking for a good time?”
Just say no, Austin… Just say no.
He opened his eyes and looked at her, and immediately felt his pulse quicken and his loins tighten. Her long black hair was tightly pulled against her head to imply that she could be controlled. She wore too much makeup, and her breasts were pushed up to appear bigger than they were.
He swallowed the lump in his throat, reached down inside himself, and found that part in him that transformed him into a god. “Yeah, I am,” he said casually. “How much?”
“Hundred an hour.”
Easy… so easy… He closed his eyes briefly. I can’t believe I’m doing this again. “Get in.”
She clicked her long black nails on the door handle and sat down in the leather seat. He didn’t look at her after she wiggled her way in, short skirt, six-inch heels, and all. She smelled like cigarettes and dollar-store perfume.
Only so many times before you get a disease or something, Austin.
“You’re disgusting.” Erin’s voice always haunted him; he recalled every detail of how she’d said those words.
The light turned green, and he started off. The prostitute was staring at him; he could tell from the corner of his eye. His hand shook, but he hid it so well it surprised even him.
“Got a name, honey?” she eventually asked.
He checked his rearview mirror. “Joe… Bargs,” he said confidently.
She scoffed, her gum snapping loudly in the small space. “Okay, Joe Bargs.” She twirled the end of her black hair around her index and middle fingers.
He dug his right hand into his pocket and pulled out a wallet. He fingered through it for a moment, then showed her an I.D. card by holding it in front of her face. It was him. The name was Joe Bargs.
“Okay.” Her tone changed.
He put the card back in the wallet and slapped it shut. Just let her out, tell her no. This is the third time this week, Austin.
“How about you? Name?”
She gave him a sickening, exaggerated laugh. “Baby, with a face like that, you can call me whatever you want.” She waved her hand dismissively and chuckled a bit. He’d always hated the prostitute personality.
Just be real, for once. But that’s the point, Austin. She’s supposed to be fantasy, not real. She’s not what you want. And you’re going to do this anyway.
“Okay…” He checked his rearview again, then turned down the street to his house, staying silent for a moment. “Marielle.”