Extreme Ways | By : Acheronswoe Category: Death Note > General Views: 1248 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or its characters, nor do I profit from these writings |
Chapter Three
For the third time that night, he found himself palming crinkled bills, repeating the same words as he left the room. Words that had become near mantra over the last few weeks.
"Roughing up is fine, just no fucking permanent damage. You will wear a condom, even for the oral. I'll be right outside, so keep it cool. She gives you any difficulty just fucking holler."
He closed the door to the bedroom, flopping down in a thread bare chair that was just outside the door. A few minutes later, he could hear the creaking sounds of bed springs. He rested his head back against the wall, trying to block out the disgusting sounds. Cursing his fucking situation.
He should be out collecting payments and arranging deals for Rod, not sitting in some seedy hotel waiting for some middle age man to bust his nut in a young girl. He wondered if his own father had ever done this, waited outside, listening as Mello's mother had made money. Mello found himself smiling as after about five minutes a drawn out groan echoed from behind the door, and the creaking stopping. The john took his time, emerging about ten minutes later, dropping a few extra bills at the blonds feet.
"Whore got quite a mouth."
Mello stood up, quirking a brow at the comment. "Oh? She give you some shit?" He looked around the door, glaring at the naked girl curled up, back facing him on the bed.
"Oh no. No troubles, just a real good dick sucker."
The blond snorted when the man told him he was lucky to get free access to those blow jobs, the john taking the cue to leave from the sneer that followed let himself out . Mello stalked into the room, pocketing the extra cash, nose crinkling in disgust at the smell of sweat and sex that assaulted him. His eyes fell to the used condom that lay on the night stand, next to it lay wadded up tissue paper that was stained red.
"He make you bleed or something?"
She rolled over, presenting more of her back to him, choking on a sob. "No.”
He grabbed her shoulder forcing her to face him. What he saw had his blood boiling in seconds. The skin of her cheek was starting to discolor with the beginnings of what no doubt would be a nasty bruise and her nose was bleeding.
"Fuck." He muttered, the realization sinking in. "He hit you, huh?." He leaned over, moving her face closer to the lamp to get a better look. "Doesn't look broken."
She closed her eyes, fighting back tears as he brushed away strands of blue hair before tracing along the edge of the forming bruise. Inwardly cursing himself for not having heard the blow delivered and her for not hollering out over the john getting violent.
“What did, or more likely what didn't you do? I doubt he hit you for nothing.”
“He wanted something he didn't pay for.”
He nodded knowingly, it had happened a few times in the past. Guy would pay to be sucked off and then try and get sex from her once behind closed doors. In those incidents she had called for him resulting in either more cash exchanging hands or the client being escorted out, none to politely. Only once had he been forced to stay in the room to insure her safety, and that had been due to a particular clients insistence of wanting it rough with some bondage. Her eyes had stayed locked on his the whole time. The taste of bile in his mouth, he had stood silently against the door frame watching as she was tied up, gagged and fucked. He had gotten similar offers since, but each time he declined, haunted by what he had seen in her eyes that night. He had no words to describe it, but it was a look that was all to familiar to him. It was the same one his mother had often had. He had vowed that night that he would never again be a witness to her performances.
"This is really going to impact price, and I'm already getting jack shit for you."
He glanced at the clock, growling when he saw it wasn't even midnight yet. She had only made a lousy hundred fifty so far tonight, of which fifty five had gone for the room plus there was the box of condoms and mouthwash that she had demanded he buy. Fuck, he thought, her outfit alone had cost two nights worth of work.
"Go wash up." He watched her stand, a little unsteady on her legs as she made her way to the bathroom. "Fuck...fuck.." he muttered under his breath.
He contemplated the financial aspects of the situation as she cleaned up. If he knocked out the room costs, it might improve the profit margin a little. Could always take advantage of the alleys or even the tricks cars, would also be easier to keep an eye out, making sure she wasn't beat again.
"Tomorrow, no room. Costs too much." He yelled, hoping she could hear him over the water.
The shower shut off, the sounds of metal scraping metal as the curtain was pulled back.
"Ok." She replied flatly, emerging with a dingy white towel wrapped around her.
"Shit, mother fucking damn it." He roared, ignoring as she flinched at his outburst. "That's not going to work either. Your upkeep is still taking a decent chunk.”
He caught her confused look and sighed. "You would have to fuck over ten men a night for me to even have hope of breaking even within the next six months. That's almost half a year of me sitting here listening as filthy men stick their pathetic excuses for dicks in you when I could fucking be making three times that on the rolls."
His fist connected the wall, bits of plaster flaking and sticking to his leather glove.
"So, I'll fuck more then." She whispered, ignoring his amused snort at her suggestion.
""Not a fucking option. Get dressed." He sighed, tossing her clothes at her.
Ignoring his cool stare she dropped the towel, quickly pulling on the tight black leather shorts and crimson mid drift top that he had picked out for her to wear. His fingers trailed along the waist band of the shorts, toying with the elastic of the white lace bikini underwear that were concealed under. “Could always charge more for you.”
She bent over to lace up the knee high boots, tensing as his hand slid lower, caressing her ass. “You gotta be worth more than these creeps are paying.”
“Maybe should give me a go, see what my worth really is before you decide that.”
He abruptly pulled his hand back, cracking his neck as walked towards the door. "I'm fucking hungry. There is a diner near by, we'll get something to eat, give that pussy of yours a little rest."
XxXxX
After they had pulled into a parking space he rummaged through the back seat of the car, and after a few minutes handed her a black shirt. "It's semi clean, put it on. I don't need every one staring at us."
She followed him into the diner, fidgeting with the hem of the shirt in nervousness as he spoke with the hostess. She caught the concerned stares of the staff as they were led to their table, the nervous way they would look away as they took in the bruise and the possessive way Mello kept a hand on her lower back as they were led their table. As they waited for their food she glanced at a newspaper that had been left on the table, eyes widening. Her reaction did not escape Mello, he followed her gaze, growling as he saw the picture. They had run an article on a local council member that was pushing for corruption and bribery investigations. A color picture of Ken Avila at a public meeting took up almost half the page. She handed him the paper, her hands shaking.
"What does this say?"
She was pointing at the headline. Mello snickered, "It says Moral crusader seeks to end corruption."
"Moral crusader?"
"A person who tells others that they can't do bad things. Sex, drugs, violence."
A look of confusion settled over her features, he ignored it. Choosing to focus on his drink over having to break things down for her. She sat back, head tilted to the side, speaking barely above a whisper.
"But its not a bad thing to have me dress like a ballerina and shoot his semen on my face?"
Mello who had been in mid drink choked, spitting some of the soda on the table as he set the glass down. He quickly glanced around, coughing as he tried to regain his composure, thankful that it was nearly empty at this time of night so they received few looks. "He was a client of yours?" He hissed.
"He would fuck me on his daughter's bed." She said quietly, nervously picking at the edge of the table. She knew this was a forbidden topic, clients expected privacy.
His eyes widened, mouth opening and closing in shock as he processed the information. "Holy fucking shit, you're not fucking joking are you?"
He slumped back in his seat, laughing as she confirmed with a shy nod that she was telling the truth "Oh hell, this is great. You got fucked by a guy who is always pushing for harsher penalties for the sex trade. Shit, dude is even anti porn." His hands behind his head as he leaned back in the booth. "Yet he was fucking a sixteen year old."
"I'm fourteen," she corrected "But he stopping making dates when I was thirteen." She took a sip of her soda, "Maybe he only hates porn that he didn't make."
He roared with laughter, oblivious to the disapproving look that a passing waitress gave him. The tip of Skye's boot brushed against his shin under the table. "Shh...keep it down people are starting to look." She winced as a steel toe boot painfully connected with her leg in return.
"Do I have to remind you of the rules, besides it is unlikely anyone understands Russian in this ghetto ass place."
She glared at him across the table, keeping silent as their waitress placed their plates in front of them, asking them if they needed anything else before she went to check on another table. Mello leaned across the table as he spoke. "Wait, are you saying he fucking recorded you two?"
She reached for a french fry, "What do you think?"
He snatched her wrist as she made to get another fry, "I'm thinking that you might be worth more than I first thought," His grip tightened, "Now keep talking."
"Adam Brown."
"District Attorney, so." He scoffed, amused at the idea that she would even bring the guy up.
"Likes having his little dick sucked while the girl is tied up."
"Oh." Was all he could say, his fingers loosening their grip on her wrist giving her the opportunity to break free of his hold. "You're just full of surprises. Anyone else?" Under the table he placed a foot on her bench, tapping it against her hip playfully to urge her to keep talking, it also kept her pinned in the booth.
She took a bite of her burger, chewing as she spoke, eyes refusing to even glance at him. "A few actors, and I think a judge. Not sure of his name."
With his other foot he kicked her, smirking as she bit her lip to keep from crying out. "I think you're lying, a name please."
"Grimm. I think his name is Grimm."
"Do tell, what did good old Patrick enjoy?"
She shook her head violently, “He would ask me to do nasty things, whispering sick thing in my ear the whole time”
“Go on, what would he say?”
“No, enough."
"Answer my fucking question whore. I don't give a flying fuck about client confidentiality. Do you understand. Wait, Grimm speaks Russian?"
Skye lifted her head, looking him directly in the eye's as she spoke. “No I speak English.” The words were accented, but none the less they had been spoken in English.
“You conniving little slut. Why didn't you say something sooner.” He gritted his teeth, turning away from her. “Doesn't matter now I guess. Shit.”
He leaned back, closing his eyes as he recalled the fact that on more than one occasion sensitive information had been discussed in her presence. Having been under the assumption she had no understanding of the English language and therefor what was being talked about he had not excused himself while taking phone calls. Rod was gonna have his head when he found out about that. Getting back to the issue at hand and asked her to continue talking about her former clients, maybe some good could come out of all this after all.
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