disappeared. “Hey!” he shouted, and then the door slammed.
Pushing Miss Minnie aside, I charged down the hall. She grabbed my arm, but I pulled her along as easily as a hooked shark would tow a dingy.
“He no pay,” Miss Minnie whined as she clung to me. “He not nice man.”
Although I agreed with her, I wasn’t about to say so. He was a guest in my hotel, and as such, he had my fealty. I stopped in front of what I thought was the right door and tested the knob. As expected, it was locked. I gave Miss Minnie a grin, then put some muscle to it. The cheap pot metal gave easily.
Taking a deep breath, I charged inside—I’d only have a moment to assess the situation. Trey cowered in the corner with a towel around his waist as a dark-haired woman clad only in lace panties shook a finger in his face, letting him know exactly how she felt... in Korean. Nearby, a short, stocky guy, dressed in wrinkled black slacks and a white dinner jacket that strained across his shoulders, narrowed his eyes at me—Miss Minnie’s muscle. Unsure of whether I was a threat—me being female and all—he moved toward me, a hand reaching inside his jacket. I grabbed his lapel with one hand, surprising him. As I knew he would, he stepped back, expecting me to pull him toward me. Instead, I moved into him, throwing him off balance. Stepping in between his legs, I braced myself. I threw an elbow at his temple with all I had. Bone connected with bone, a hollow thunk that reverberated through my shoulder. He dropped like a rock.
Miss Minnie lurked in the doorway. Before she could bolt, I grabbed her, pulled her into the room, then kicked the door shut.
Stepping over the inert body on the floor, I advanced on the young woman and Trey Gold. Both of them stared at me, their mouths hanging open.
“One of the advantages to having been raised in a whorehouse,” I explained, as I took stock of the surroundings. Miss Minnie usually had only one strong-arm guy, but I kept her at my side as added insurance in case tonight she had doubled up.
“I’m going to call the police,” Miss Minnie said. “You can’t come in here like big, tough broad.”
“You’re going to call the police?” I pulled my phone from my hip and extended it to her. “Go ahead.”
Trey started to snivel. I silenced him with a look.
Miss Minnie gave me a hard-eyed stare, then shrank back.
“Thought so.” I re-holstered the phone as I herded everyone into the far corner of the room, where I could keep them corralled and still have an eye on the door. “Okay, somebody tell me what’s going on.”
“He want happy ending.” The young girl looked ready to spit nails.
I wanted to give her a hug, take her home, and feed her a hot meal. “And?”
“I paid the price,” Trey interjected, managing to actually sound irate rather than mortified. His psychological profile would probably turn my blood to ice. “She said it would be ten dollars more.”
Ten dollars for a hand job. Men. Why the hell would he pay for something he could do himself? As much as I’d like to know the answer, a philosophic discussion with Trey Gold would probably destroy any illusion I might still harbor regarding the future of the human race.
I turned to the young woman and raised an eyebrow.
“Ten dollar!” She rolled her eyes. “For normal man maybe, but he old. He take too long.”
Ah, the glorious indignity of it. I was enjoying this far more than I should.
Trey didn’t even look bothered by her assessment. “Hey, I took a purple pill. I was rarin’ to go. If she’d just done it right. She needed to grab it hard. You know, with her thumb and forefinger, like this . . .”
I held up my hand. “Spare me the specifics.” My stomach turned queasy as a visual took shape. I shook it away as I glanced at the other three, all of whom seemed to think this was an acceptable topic for casual conversation. “And aren’t the pills you want blue?”
Trey’s face fell as his brows
Pushing Miss Minnie aside, I charged down the hall. She grabbed my arm, but I pulled her along as easily as a hooked shark would tow a dingy.
“He no pay,” Miss Minnie whined as she clung to me. “He not nice man.”
Although I agreed with her, I wasn’t about to say so. He was a guest in my hotel, and as such, he had my fealty. I stopped in front of what I thought was the right door and tested the knob. As expected, it was locked. I gave Miss Minnie a grin, then put some muscle to it. The cheap pot metal gave easily.
Taking a deep breath, I charged inside—I’d only have a moment to assess the situation. Trey cowered in the corner with a towel around his waist as a dark-haired woman clad only in lace panties shook a finger in his face, letting him know exactly how she felt... in Korean. Nearby, a short, stocky guy, dressed in wrinkled black slacks and a white dinner jacket that strained across his shoulders, narrowed his eyes at me—Miss Minnie’s muscle. Unsure of whether I was a threat—me being female and all—he moved toward me, a hand reaching inside his jacket. I grabbed his lapel with one hand, surprising him. As I knew he would, he stepped back, expecting me to pull him toward me. Instead, I moved into him, throwing him off balance. Stepping in between his legs, I braced myself. I threw an elbow at his temple with all I had. Bone connected with bone, a hollow thunk that reverberated through my shoulder. He dropped like a rock.
Miss Minnie lurked in the doorway. Before she could bolt, I grabbed her, pulled her into the room, then kicked the door shut.
Stepping over the inert body on the floor, I advanced on the young woman and Trey Gold. Both of them stared at me, their mouths hanging open.
“One of the advantages to having been raised in a whorehouse,” I explained, as I took stock of the surroundings. Miss Minnie usually had only one strong-arm guy, but I kept her at my side as added insurance in case tonight she had doubled up.
“I’m going to call the police,” Miss Minnie said. “You can’t come in here like big, tough broad.”
“You’re going to call the police?” I pulled my phone from my hip and extended it to her. “Go ahead.”
Trey started to snivel. I silenced him with a look.
Miss Minnie gave me a hard-eyed stare, then shrank back.
“Thought so.” I re-holstered the phone as I herded everyone into the far corner of the room, where I could keep them corralled and still have an eye on the door. “Okay, somebody tell me what’s going on.”
“He want happy ending.” The young girl looked ready to spit nails.
I wanted to give her a hug, take her home, and feed her a hot meal. “And?”
“I paid the price,” Trey interjected, managing to actually sound irate rather than mortified. His psychological profile would probably turn my blood to ice. “She said it would be ten dollars more.”
Ten dollars for a hand job. Men. Why the hell would he pay for something he could do himself? As much as I’d like to know the answer, a philosophic discussion with Trey Gold would probably destroy any illusion I might still harbor regarding the future of the human race.
I turned to the young woman and raised an eyebrow.
“Ten dollar!” She rolled her eyes. “For normal man maybe, but he old. He take too long.”
Ah, the glorious indignity of it. I was enjoying this far more than I should.
Trey didn’t even look bothered by her assessment. “Hey, I took a purple pill. I was rarin’ to go. If she’d just done it right. She needed to grab it hard. You know, with her thumb and forefinger, like this . . .”
I held up my hand. “Spare me the specifics.” My stomach turned queasy as a visual took shape. I shook it away as I glanced at the other three, all of whom seemed to think this was an acceptable topic for casual conversation. “And aren’t the pills you want blue?”
Trey’s face fell as his brows
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