Page 81 of Double Shot

“Plamena, you fucking Yank,” she hissed.

“Plamena, how are you?” I asked.

“I am…” She launched off into a jag of what was Russian and I couldn’t follow. “You son of a bitch, you make me pregnant.”

“Pregnant?” I took a step back. She looked rough, and had put on weight, but that wasn’t a baby she had, that was different. “I haven’t seen you in over a year, more than a year.”

“Your son is a year old, you piece of…” more angry Russian followed, but the gist was fairly obvious.

“Ma’am, I think you need to calm down,” Roan added.

“No, you need to shut up and give me money. A place to live, take care of your son.” There was a hint of her old hard features in the sneer she gave us. It was almost completely pointed – pointed at Sadie. That made no sense. “You fuck me, you make me pregnant, you make me lose job, lose home, now have your son and you no care. Fuck you, Mister whatever-your-fake-name is!”

“Back the train into the station, this isn’t possible.” It would certainly be an immaculate conception, considering that as soon as I could afford a vasectomy, I’d had one. That wasn’t something to shout out on the curb, but still. The fucking audacity.

“You fuck, you make baby, possible and is!” She looked over at a Sadie. “You watch out, he fucks you, make you fat, then leave you.” It was a barb, hooked, and it struck home. I could see where it sank in and snared her heart.

“Look, get the fuck out of here,” I growled. “You’re fucking lying and I know it.”

Sadie looked wounded. Fuck. Why?

She didn’t want kids; I didn’t want kids.

I never met a woman who could get pregnant swallowing my load.

The damage was done.

Fuck.

Fucking really?

“Mate, take care of this, I’ll take Sadie home, and you can get a different ride, yeah?” Roan asked, playing cover and damage control. He would sort her out, the escorts were supposed to be on birth control, IUDs or pills, and how awkward would the conversation be where I told her that when I fucked my escorts, I painted their faces, and almost never inside them.

He tucked her away into the back of the waiting ride share and then they pulled away from the curb.

I would owe him for this.

“Listen, the escort service had rules, and if someone you managed to get nut off your face and up your snatch is on you, fucking seriously,” I snapped. “Do you want money, is that what this is, a fucking shakedown?”

“Is no shakedown, but you should give me money, yes.” Her eyes were hard as broken glass.

“How much for you to go jump off a bridge and to never see you again. I know I came on your face because you had that purple lipstick.”

“Fifty thousand.”

“Let me just pull that out of my pocket. You have any proof of this kid?” I snapped. She pulled out her phone and showed me blurry pictures of a chubby infant, a tousle of dark hair, but other than that, it was a pink beanbag with closed eyes.

“Is that a stock picture, that you took a picture of?” I asked. My God, the audacity of this bitch.

“Is no stock, is your son, a hundred thousand, or I start sending pictures to your girlfriend, she would like that,” she threatened.

“Oh, you need to fuck off right now.” I jabbed a hand in the direction she needed to fuck off in. “There will be a fucking paternity test before I give you any goddamn thing, this is a fucking setup and you’ve fucking ruined my evening!” I knew that my chance of finding out what Sadie was wearing under that dress had gone from undoubted to zero. My blood was almost boiling.

I stalked away from the front ofLeJefferson,and Plamena chased after me, shouting insults in a slurry of Russian, German, and bad English. The angrier she was, the more mangled her multi-lingual insults became.

“If you don’t fuck off, I’m calling the cops,” I finally fired at her. “Don’t fucking push me.”

“Call them, I tell them you fuck me.”

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