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Porter heard a scream and realized it was his as he was wrestled to the ground. No, this wasn't how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to get free, live a good life, find something better than what he had left. The more he fought, catching flesh underneath his nails and in his teeth as he bit and scratched, the more his heart tried to hammer right out of his chest.
"Get off of her!"
The deep, grumbling voice rang out and everyone froze. Including Porter. His stomach was still in knots, worried this was another part of this guys' gang coming to pin him to the ground and stop his wild thrashing.
"Shit. Arden." Mr. Scraggly Beard growled. "This one is ours. Let us have her."
"I won't repeat myself."
"Fine." The man spat, releasing Porter and moving away from him. "Take her. She's too much work anyway. Not worth it."
Porter glared. "Screw you!" he shouted after the men as they walked off and he trembled as he tugged down his skirt and adjusted his top. "Assholes!"
"You alright?"
He scoffed. "Does it look like I'm alright?" Porter tried to adjust the wig on his head without it slipping as he glanced up and paused.
Standing in front of him was a tall man with wide shoulders and thick, muscled arms. A gray t-shirt stretched over his chest and he wore a dark pair of jeans. His hair, beard, mustache were all salt and pepper and his skin was tanned. He looked Porter up and down, a small grin tugging at his lips. He extended a hand and Porter eyed him wearily before he took it and was brought to his feet.
"You're new around here."
It was a statement, not a question.Was he that obvious?Porter adjusted his skirt, dusting it off and frowning at a stubborn stain of dirt that clung to the fabric.
"So what?" Porter muttered.
"No need to get testy with me. I'm the only one here that wasn't pawin' at you. I'm Arden. You?"
Porter glanced up at him. "Payton." The name fell from his lips before he could even think clearly, but it was fitting enough. "Just Payton. Why?"
Arden shrugged. "No reason. Want to go and wind down with a drink, Payton?"
Porter narrowed his eyes. "Why? So you can spike it with something?"
"You know what? Nevermind." Arden shrugged. "Fend for yourself."
Suddenly the thought of being on his own was way worse than the thought of giving this guy a little benefit of the doubt. Besides, it was dark and lonely and the neon lights weren’t at all comforting. As Arden walked off, Porter caught up to him.
"Wait. Wait! A drink where?"
"At a place not far from here. My business." He raised a brow at Porter. "I'm not going to hurt you. No offense, but you're not my type."
The insults just keep coming tonight, huh?
Porter huffed. "I didn't want to be your type in the first place." He pouted, but kept up with Arden's fast paced strides. "Where are we going?"
"I already told you."
"Yeah, but I mean where?"
"Are you going to know even if I tell you?" The man sighed. "I'm guessing not considering you decided to wander down one of the worst streets in Silvercross City."
Porter swallowed thickly. "The worst?"
"Yeah, just like I thought. You have no idea." Arden turned a corner. "You can't wander around this place if you don't know where you're going. Humans love to stereotype us, but the truth is that some of us really are dangerous."
"Humans?" Porter swallowed thickly again. "A-and does that mean you're not human?"
Arden glanced over his shoulder. "Most of us aren't. You might as well get used to that if you’re planning on doing more than visitin’. And by the looks of that bag I think you are."
