The twins are pissed off, and not in their usual 'this job is shit' sort of way. Another girl's been killed- or at least that's what it looks like. Who's to say anymore? I've seen more than my fair share of chickies decide that they're in love. Those are the ones who you've gotta feel the worst for. Let's say that they do end up marrying lover boy. He'll always know where she came from and he'll never treat her as anything more than a whore. And when her looks have faded- and they do she won't have a comfy job recruiting new girls for Old Town, oh no. At best she'll have a husband who screws around on her. That'd hurt but not as bad as what usually ends up being the case. Most of the time the bastards will just leave, and those iron clad prenupts leave the former light of Mr. So and So's life without a dime to her name and without the looks to make a dime.
Course that's not necessarily the case here. The twins are convinced our girls are being yanked by some psycho. They're all worked up about it. Especially Goldie… It's her girls who're going missing. For my part… I watch. I wait. I menace anyone who hasn't got any business being here.
It's not really the disappearances that have me all tied up in knots though. Ha! Tied up in knots- I can't get my mind out of the gutter. What's really bothering me is this business with Dwight. Now I know he's no saint and anyone will tell ya that a few of his screws are looser than me, but he's basically a stand up guy. One of the only guys I trust matter of fact.
So here's the thing. He's seeing someone else. I know better than anyone what I am. I've walked these streets since I was still in my teens and I've learned the hard way that I'm never going to be anyone's so-called 'true love'. Nope I'm a hooker and a damn good one. I don't even have to walk anymore. My customers come to me. I accept referrals occasionally, but for the most part I watch over some of the greener girls and take care of a couple of regulars. It's a good gig but it means that the man I've let myself love will never return my feelings.
Oh don't go feeling too bad for me. I've made my bed and I'll lie in it until the money stops coming. Then I'll find new girls to lie in it and I'll be grateful that I'm privileged enough to be an Old Town girl. It's just hard when it comes to Dwight. After all that mess with his bitch ex-girlfriend or fiancée or whatever the hell she was he's laid low. I keep waiting to see some sign of him, but I hear rumors that he's been gallivanting with that bar maid at the Pecos. The one he sent me to talk to that time.
She was a pretty thing- freckles, strawberry blonde hair, great tits- and that special sort of personality that would make her a great girl to work for me. But there's insecurity beneath her perky façade. That must be why she's working for scraps at a joint like the Pecos instead of running with the big girls in Old Town.
What does Dwight see in her? But of course I know the answer. Shellie- damnit I remembered her name!- She's a victim, helpless and pretty and all too ready to let a big brave man like Dwight jump in her sheets. I know the kind. I loathe the kind. Compared to her I'm a bulldog. I may be pretty too, I may be a better lay, but at the end of the day I just don't need Dwight like he'd like me to.
It's getting late, the day girls are heading home, and the grizzled night women are sliding onto the streets with their wares on display. It's already quiet. So quiet you can hear individual footsteps on the pavement, and the occasional sigh. It won't be a moment and the cars will start to arrive. Sleek shiny numbers with drivers will come down the alley I'm patrolling. Here's where the really expensive girls are. Where Goldie would be if she hadn't taken a night off.
It's funny about Goldie. She's lost five girls. Starting with her favorite, a tough young thing we all called Rosie on account of the rose tattooed on her cheek. She's a popular one, and I can't believe she's not here anymore. Rosie wasn't the type to go all googoo over some stud, but then what do I know? If I can she can too I guess.
Here the cars are. They're gleaming in the moonlight, but they never tarry. They check the prices and accept or decline the services offered and then they're off into the night… Or around the corner where there's more 'privacy'. The air is damp, and I just know that Dallas' cold is going to turn into pneumonia. I'm going to tell her to go in if she starts feeling feverish. The last thing we need is to bring another cold fingered doctor in to care for one of us. It's always the same- Impeccable service with a leer. If they take liberties we could kill them. Could kill them but won't. They have to trust us if they're to keep coming.
There are fast footsteps behind me and Wendy's voice reaches me before I can make her out in the shadows,
"Gail! It's the police," her eyes are bright with tears, and I know something godawful has happened.
"Goldie's dead," she sobs, "Some sonufabitch named Marv killed her and raped her."
I reach for my gun even before I realize it,
"Where is the motherfucker?"
Wendy wipes impatiently at the tears coursing down her cheeks, "I don't know Gail but wherever he is the bastard is dead. If not yet then soon."
I nod in agreement and she chokes a little on her voice,
"What'll I do Gail?" she wails.
"First let's get something to drink, and then let's find the fucker and teach him a lesson."
Marv you asshole you've done it now. Pissed us off royally, but the upside is I hardly think about Dwight at all for the rest of the night.
A/N: I'm thinking either 'Blue Eyes' or Becky next… What do you think so far?