Page 73 of Pretty Little Thing

Eighteen

Clive

Tomorrow night.Six o’clock.

One step closer to Nora’s client list.

I want to submit to you.

I can’t stop replaying her voice in my head. It makes me feel powerful and wanted. I want to hear it again. I’m going to make her say it again…

“How’s it going, Snow?”

My shoulder lurches forward as Roger smacks my back. I stand up straight against the door frame again. “Going fine,” I say.

People pass by us on their way out. It’s closing time. Roger the black blob, however, lingers in front of me.

“Didn’t see the newbie here tonight,” he says with a knowing laugh. “Trouble in paradise already?”

I sneer and point a stiff thumb over my shoulder toward the door. “Keep moving, Roger,” I say.

He pats my shoulder again with his black-covered hand and carries on toward the exit.

Trouble in paradise? Not even close, Rog.

I want to submit to you.

And she will.

That should keep me warm tonight. Hopefully.

I walk upstairs to the third floor. All six pink lights are turned off but I check each room just in case. I wipe down the furniture and the sinks. I check the closets to make sure everything is in place.

Same goes for the second floor. Wipe down the crosses and the benches. Hang up any spare leashes or chains onto the wall hooks. Sweep the floors.

Once the water and juice bar is tidied up, I head for the front entrance. Judy sits behind the counter in her usual place, counting down the register and filling out her paperwork.

“Second and third floors are clear,” I say, casting a wave. “I’m heading out. Goodnight, Judy.”

She glances up and flashes me a smile. “Have a good night, honey,” she says.

I step outside, pulling my coat a little tighter around me as I nudge the door closed. It’s starting to get cold. I’m not too thrilled about that but it’s just another thing in the world I have no control over.

I walk around the building to the back alleyway where my car is parked. As I draw closer, I fish into my pocket for my keys.

Tomorrow is Saturday. No plugging numbers at Little Black Book on weekends but I have an early shift at the gym. I’ll make my way there now.

The roads are mostly clear so it only takes a few minutes for me to cross town. I round the building and park in a spot down from the entrance. My shift doesn’t start until seven-thirty, so I have just under five hours to get a bit of sleep.

I lean over and grab the windshield visor from the floor by the passenger seat. I spread it over the dash and press it up to the window to block out as much of the annoying orange street lamps as possible.

My stomach growls and I look across the street at the twenty-four-hour convenience store. I won’t be able to sleep unless I eat something, so I twist around, grab my extra jacket, and step outside.

The man behind the counter waves at me as I walk in. Whether he recognizes me or not, I’m not sure. Nor do I really care. I pass by the register and grab a turkey sandwich and a bottle of water from the first fridge after the display of lottery tickets.

“That your car?” he asks me. “Outside the gym?”

“Yeah,” I say.

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