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I knew it was off to consider his control and occasionally violent treatment to be the best option, but I knew better than most the evils that lurked in the world.
So I guess if I had to be living in this shithole of a city, on the wrong side of the tracks, I might as well be protected from the worst scum of the Earth by a slightly less scummy jerk.
I found Tyson at the Union, his regular bar.
Of course, where else would any self-respecting pimp be at this hour?
The bar was across the street from the hotel where we worked, so it made sense. He could watch the girls come and go.
But that also meant he’d have seen Heidi as she stumbled toward my place.
I stomped my way into the bar, wishing I had made a quieter entrance when I realized Tyson was surrounded by eight of his friends.
Fuck.
“Evie,” he exclaimed as I approached with much more tentative steps than when I had entered, and he scooped me close to him with a large arm and squeezed my ass through my skirt. His friends laughed appreciatively, already standing from their stools and moving around me, so I was surrounded, all before I even had a chance to say anything. Intimidation, the first tool of a pimp. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Tyson—” I started.
“Evie,” he slurred. He was drunk. Great. “How long have we known each other?”
“Too long,” I muttered. I’d lived at this end of the city my entire life and been bouncing between houses for years before the apartment I could afford only under Tyson’s employment because he controlled it. While it wasn’t great, it was the first permanent residence I had occupied in almost a decade. The first place I could almost call my own. “Six months,” I answered after his expression darkened.
Apparently, he wasn’t in the mood for my attitude.
As if he ever was.
“You know, I’ve never slept with any of my girls,” he drawled.
“Good for you. Listen, we need to talk about Mr. Gilbert.”
“Ah, yes, Mr. Gilbert, a very high-paying customer.” Tyson chuckled, patting his pocket while his team of cheerleaders laughed again. He still had his arm around me, and it was uncomfortable. The difference between his physical stature and mine wasn’t lost on me, and while he wasn’t particularly tall, he was built and could hurt me easily.
I should know.
“I’m taking him next time he comes to you,” I said.
“He likes Heidi.”
“He can’t have Heidi anymore.”
Tyson’s brow furrowed as he watched me through the alcohol daze as his entourage closed in around me further. “That’s not up to you, Evie,” he whispered.
I tried to repress the shudder that ran up my spine. “He’ll like me, I promise,” I said, and when Tyson looked at me skeptically, I leaned in close to his ear and whispered, “I can scream.”
His eyes widened, and I felt sick again but kept my expression neutral as he surveyed me.
“Heidi needs to learn to keep her mouth shut,” he muttered, then said nothing more. I didn’t like it when he was quiet. There was something so much more menacing about a whispered threat than a shouted one.
I placed a hand on his arm and fluttered my eyelashes at him. “Imadeher tell me. You know how persistent I can be.”
I held my breath until he chuckled. With any luck, he wouldn’t remember the full details of this exchange tomorrow, only the outcome. When he grinned at me, I knew I was out of the danger zone, and my shoulders drooped slightly as I relaxed.
“Yes.” He sucked his tongue against his teeth, making a few clicking sounds as he ran over the thoughts in his mind. “I know what a pain in the ass you can be.” His eyes flickered over my shoulder, and I realized it too late.
There’d be a price to pay for asking Tyson for something.
There always was.
