Part Two
Part Two
He sucked thoughtfully on his cigarette, as if preparing an official statement.
For the size of the man’s brain, be put far too much thought process into
everything.
“Well, mate,” he started, “In case you hadn’t heard, it’s illegal to prostitute
in California.”
“You don’t say,” I answered coolly. “There went the plan of whoring
myself.”
“I know,” he answered with a smirk. “You’ll be quite a loss to the business.
Anyway, they threw me in here last night because they didn’t know what to
do with me. My lawyer’s got me out in a few hours, but probably wouldn’t
be a good idea to leave the area, know what I mean? So you’ve got some
company for a few nights.”
I lay back down, and my equilibrium returned. I had always felt vulnerable
around Ben, and my unguarded position did nothing to soothe this feeling.
But it was better than constant vertigo.
“What happened to me?” I moaned.
“I already told you that,” he answered, grinding out the cigarette against the
brick and throwing it to a corner. “The only reason you’re here is because
Jess didn’t know what else to do with you.”
I frowned. I didn’t like the idea that I could be messed with in my one
sanctuary; alcohol. “How do you know Jess, anyway?” I asked, changing
the subject. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to let the suspicions I had about the
sleazy man in front of me come through yet. About possible connections of
him with my present health condition.
“We go way back,” he replied smoothly. “He’s come to me for help a few
times, if you follow me.” Ben laughed at his own joke. Damn, but I hate it
when people do that. I mean, either it’s funny or it’s not. The world swam
again, even though I was still laying down.
“Did they take me to a hospital?” I asked, reluctantly shifting the subject
back to my health. Jesus, it felt like there were things rummaging around in
my lower intestines. You know that scene from “Alien” when he larvae
bursts through he spaceman’s chest cavity? Yeah, that.
“Yes, they did,” he answered, sitting down. “You had your stomach
pumped, and then they took you here because the cops had been called
when you passed out at the bar.”
I scowled. The bar. What bar had I even been in? Were they all so similar
now? Ever since my pervious employers had shut down the club I had
worked at, there hadn’t been any place distinctive enough to catch my
memory. They’d closed down not long after I’d stopped working there.
After Darren. A pang shot through me, but not from my stomach pains. I
knew it was only a matter of time before I would relinquish my trust to Ben,
and he would require the story of what had happened.
But the next thing I knew, I passed out.
~*~*~*~
Cool cloth awoke me from dreams. You know the type...they’d have
changed your life, if only you could remember them after you regained
consciousness? I know I’m creative because of all my bloody lost
memories. I should be taking some kind of herbal supplement.
“Danny boy?” A concerned face loomed over me. What had gone from
evil moonlit features was now a concerned face of Ben bending over me.
It was starting to seem like my whole life was waking up with blank
memories. I made some conscious groan and opened my eyes wider, and
the brief spark of concern evaporated swiftly.
“Heya,” he said, the worry also gone from his voice. Ben and I, we were
good at hiding in plain sight. We were experts.
“Fuck,” I croaked. I felt like I’d been hit by a Mack Truck. But the urge to
heave had finally left me.
Ben managed his personal smirk, a quaint upturning of the lip and a
smarmy look in his eye. “I’d rather not, if it’s all the same. That’s what got
me here in the first place.”
I rasped. “I always knew your dick would get you into trouble.”
He let out a loud laugh at this, leaning back away from me. Ah, blissed
personal space. I swear, that man can be downright pressing. Stupid
monkey.
We sat for a moment, getting our bearings. He lit up a cigarette and
smoked it thoughtfully. “You know Danny,” he started carefully, exhaling a
cloud of delicious nicotine, “You’ve changed a bit.”
I tensed minutely, wondering where he was going with this. “Everyone
changes,” I replied. A nice middle-of-the-road statement.
He shook his head, negating me. “I mean...ever since the band-” he
stopped, to gauge my reaction. “-Darren, I guess, is more appropriate.
Ever since that ended, you’ve been different.”
I pulled the cigarette from between his lips and drew on it for some snide
remark. “It was a one night stand,” I answered finally.
He took the burning filter back. “Him or the band?”
I felt like someone had hit me. What to tell him, that in a lust crazed
frenzy, I had violated Darren just like all his other lovers had? That after a
hazy evening of fucking, I had woken alone, and had had minimal, cold
contact with Darren since? That I had royally screwed myself over? Oh,
yes, that’d do quite nicely. Now if you’d like to the sword so I could fall on
it, please...
Ben passed me a new cigarette. Inhale. The smoke gave me strength.
Something from before Darren, something I’d always had that no one could
take away. I watched it flow out my nostrils like I was a dragon. “Both,” I
belatedly replied. He nodded.
Benny the Stringer, sharing his last pack of Lucky Strikes with me, while I
tried to restrain from telling him my story. My heartbreak. My god awful,
100% proof, jolly-old-fuckall screw up.
My brother always said, if you’re going to be a fuck up, be the biggest
fuckup you can be.
continued in part three...