Page 52 of Back in the Saddle

He popped up to his feet, saying, “She’s in room twenty-one.”

“Who?” Raye asked.

“You lookin’ for Jinx?” he asked back.

Well then.

Part two of our night was set. We just had to wait until her service was completed.

“Actually, we had some questions,” Raye told him.

He snatched the mags out of my hands, flitted through them, then looked at Raye. “This buys you one question.”

“Oh, please. Five mags, five questions,” Raye bartered.

“Two,” he returned.

“Five.” Raye didn’t back down.

“Three,” he tried.

“Five,” Raye repeated.

“FFS,” I grunted. “Have you heard of the Street Warriors?”

“What?” he asked me.

“Street Warriors,” I reiterated.

“Is that a porn movie?” he asked.

The dude had a one-track mind.

I sighed.

“No. We believe they protect homeless people,” Luna informed him.

“What do I know about homeless people?” he asked, hugging the magazines to his chest protectively, like we’d take them away if he didn’t have anything good to give us.

“So you haven’t heard of them,” Harlow murmured, disheartened.

“No,” Mr. Shithead said to her tits.

I sighed again, which was what I needed to do instead of slapping his gaze into another dimension.

“If you hear of them, would you call us?” Raye asked, slipping a business card across the counter to him.

He stared at it like it would grow a hundred legs and start crawling.

“Yo!” I called.

His eyes shot to me.

“She asked, if you hear of them, will you call us?” I restated.

“What do I get if I do?” he retorted.

“More dirty magazines?” Harlow offered shyly.

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