bugged out. "Whoa," he said. "What's this?" He figured he held $500 in his hands.
"That's your cut," Souther said, as if it were obvious.
"You're kidding," Aaron said. He certainly hadn't expected to get paid today, and $500 was more than his family's food budget for a month.
"You earned it," Souther said. "There's plenty more where that came from if you play your cards right." He stuffed the rest of the cash back into the duffel bag. "Let me know if you want to blow some of it on a whore, okay? I can arrange it."
Needles and Beeks laughed knowingly, but Aaron only gave up a sheepish grin.
Souther could back his statement up, of course, having spent countless nights over the years in the company of hookers, and he proceeded to share some of his titillating whore stories with the group.
Aaron was riveted, gripped by a raging torrent of hormones, and he lapped up every last syllable. Souther got a charge out of seeing his reactions, and he teased him with ever expanding layers of graphic detail.
---
Souther concluded his thrilling monologue with an anecdote that had even Needles and Beeks blushing. Then he paused – he had left out one very important detail regarding his knowledge of the business of prostitution. A secret he'd been keeping (even from Needles and Beeks) for nearly ten years, now. But he decided not to mention it – not yet at least.
"I'll bet your mother could use some cash of her own," he said at last, looking for another reaction from Aaron.
The left-field comment confused Aaron and left him feeling queasy, his enthusiasm shriveling. "What's that supposed to mean?" he said.
"Forget about it," Souther said casually. He had gotten what he wanted.
Aaron felt a sudden aversion toward the money. He tossed the bundle of bills on the table like so much rotten meat.
His cell phone lay on the table. Souther picked it up and handed it to him. "Here," he said. "I believe that's yours."
The odd gesture only served to confuse Aaron further. He searched Souther's eyes for a long moment then slipped the phone into his pocket.
Chapter 29
No Onions
Michael sat on the couch in his loft, staring at a blank TV screen. He checked his watch. 7:10 p.m. He hadn't heard a word from Aaron since dropping him off at home the night before and he was deeply concerned. He pulled the slip of paper with Aaron's number on it out of his pocket and looked at it for a moment. Then he entered the number into his phone and pressed CALL.
---
Souther had some fast food spread out across his expansive desk. Needles and Beeks were there, and Aaron had been invited to join them.
Beeks unwrapped his cheeseburger, lifted the top bun and looked inside. He wasn't happy. "Which one of you sons-of-bitches got my damn burger?" he said.
"Chill out, Beeks," Needles said. "No one got your damn food."
Aaron felt like part of the team, now, and comfortable enough to contribute to the conversation. "Mine looks okay," he said.
Beeks scratched the onions out of his burger. "I specifically told 'em 'No damn – '"
"Shut up," Souther said, holding up his hand. "I hear something ..."
"I think it's me," Aaron said, reaching into his pocket for his phone. He didn't recognize the incoming number, but he tapped ANSWER anyway then held the phone up to his ear.
"I'll take that," Souther said, reaching across the desk, and Aaron gave up his phone.
---
Michael was confused by the rustling. " Aaron? " he said.
"Who's speaking?" Souther said.
Michael looked at his phone for a moment, then pressed END CALL.
Souther slid the phone back across the desk to Aaron.
"Who was it?" Aaron asked.
"Wrong number," Souther replied.
---
Michael
"That's your cut," Souther said, as if it were obvious.
"You're kidding," Aaron said. He certainly hadn't expected to get paid today, and $500 was more than his family's food budget for a month.
"You earned it," Souther said. "There's plenty more where that came from if you play your cards right." He stuffed the rest of the cash back into the duffel bag. "Let me know if you want to blow some of it on a whore, okay? I can arrange it."
Needles and Beeks laughed knowingly, but Aaron only gave up a sheepish grin.
Souther could back his statement up, of course, having spent countless nights over the years in the company of hookers, and he proceeded to share some of his titillating whore stories with the group.
Aaron was riveted, gripped by a raging torrent of hormones, and he lapped up every last syllable. Souther got a charge out of seeing his reactions, and he teased him with ever expanding layers of graphic detail.
---
Souther concluded his thrilling monologue with an anecdote that had even Needles and Beeks blushing. Then he paused – he had left out one very important detail regarding his knowledge of the business of prostitution. A secret he'd been keeping (even from Needles and Beeks) for nearly ten years, now. But he decided not to mention it – not yet at least.
"I'll bet your mother could use some cash of her own," he said at last, looking for another reaction from Aaron.
The left-field comment confused Aaron and left him feeling queasy, his enthusiasm shriveling. "What's that supposed to mean?" he said.
"Forget about it," Souther said casually. He had gotten what he wanted.
Aaron felt a sudden aversion toward the money. He tossed the bundle of bills on the table like so much rotten meat.
His cell phone lay on the table. Souther picked it up and handed it to him. "Here," he said. "I believe that's yours."
The odd gesture only served to confuse Aaron further. He searched Souther's eyes for a long moment then slipped the phone into his pocket.
Chapter 29
No Onions
Michael sat on the couch in his loft, staring at a blank TV screen. He checked his watch. 7:10 p.m. He hadn't heard a word from Aaron since dropping him off at home the night before and he was deeply concerned. He pulled the slip of paper with Aaron's number on it out of his pocket and looked at it for a moment. Then he entered the number into his phone and pressed CALL.
---
Souther had some fast food spread out across his expansive desk. Needles and Beeks were there, and Aaron had been invited to join them.
Beeks unwrapped his cheeseburger, lifted the top bun and looked inside. He wasn't happy. "Which one of you sons-of-bitches got my damn burger?" he said.
"Chill out, Beeks," Needles said. "No one got your damn food."
Aaron felt like part of the team, now, and comfortable enough to contribute to the conversation. "Mine looks okay," he said.
Beeks scratched the onions out of his burger. "I specifically told 'em 'No damn – '"
"Shut up," Souther said, holding up his hand. "I hear something ..."
"I think it's me," Aaron said, reaching into his pocket for his phone. He didn't recognize the incoming number, but he tapped ANSWER anyway then held the phone up to his ear.
"I'll take that," Souther said, reaching across the desk, and Aaron gave up his phone.
---
Michael was confused by the rustling. " Aaron? " he said.
"Who's speaking?" Souther said.
Michael looked at his phone for a moment, then pressed END CALL.
Souther slid the phone back across the desk to Aaron.
"Who was it?" Aaron asked.
"Wrong number," Souther replied.
---
Michael
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