When Hanger walked in, Soothe was busy plumping the cushions on the couch like some demented housewife from a 1950s TV show. She’d snorted a little something a couple of hours ago so she could keep going. Whatever it had been cut with was making her jittery as well as wide awake.
She hadn’t been looking forward to Hanger’s arrival. Babysitting Kristin meant she hadn’t been able to make nearly the kind of money she usually would have. On a good night she could have made a couple of thousand dollars, maybe more. Between her and Kristin, they had made less than four hundred. There was no way Hanger would be happy with that.
“Sit down,” she said, patting the couch. “Let me fix you a drink.”
He didn’t say anything, but he sat down as she mixed him a Scotch and soda and brought it over.
He took it from her.
“Where is she?” he said.
“Oh, she’s taking a nap. You want me to go get her?”
“No, leave her be.”
He wasn’t saying much. That made her nervous. She didn’t want to look at him directly because that could set him off. Instead, she snuck glances, trying to work out what kind of mood he was in. Usually, she was pretty good at getting a read on him. That was a big part of being a bottom girl, working out what your pimp wanted, maybe even before he knew himself.
Today, her sixth sense wasn’t working. He was quiet, withdrawn, but not in a way she recognized. Maybe it was the drugs she’d taken, or maybe it was just the craziness of the past few days, but when he looked at her, she didn’t like it. He looked like Hanger, but something had changed, and she didn’t know what.
Once, years ago, she’d come close to being killed by a trick. The worrying part was that the guy had seemed completely normal. Then he’d flipped, just like that, and before she knew she’d been trapped in a car with him, fighting for her life.
The vibe now had echoes of that, which made her telling him how little money they’d made even more nerve wracking. Still, it was better for her to tell him than wait for him to ask.
She went to her bag. “We kind of had a light night. She’s new to being on the carpet, and…”
He cut her off. “Just give me what you got,” he said, hand out, not looking at her as he studied his phone screen.
She placed the money and credit card receipts in his hand, bracing for a reaction that didn’t come.
Hanger tapped out a text on his phone. He shoved the paper into his pocket without so much as looking at it, never mind counting it.
In all the years she’d been with him, she’d never seen him not count what she handed over. It scared her so much that she could feel herself starting to sober up.
“We’ll make it up,” she said. “Tonight. I’ll take her back out.”
He looked up at her, almost as if he’d forgotten she was there.
“No. You won’t.”
She didn’t say anything. Asking what he meant would be a seriously bad idea.
“You want me to freshen that up, Daddy?” she said.
He ignored her.
“There’s two guys out looking for her. If you see them, call me immediately.”
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I already lost the black guy when he was following me here. I know what he looks like. He won’t catch me slipping.”
He didn’t say anything to that. He pulled out his wallet and handed her cash. He nodded to the bedroom.
“Take her to the salon. Get her looking fine. I want her hair dyed. Blonde. Platinum blonde.”
Soothe froze for a second. Suddenly it all made sense. His mood. How he wasn’t looking at her.
“Blonde?” she said.
He lifted his eyes to hers.
“Bitch is there an echo in here?” he said.
“No,” she said.
“Don’t look at me like that again,” he said. “Not ever.”
Blonde, she thought. With everything that had happened, it could only mean one thing. Hanger was about to cut his losses.