up enough to cover the bite. Only got a couple dents. He gave up and crossed to Ernie, a ginger eight steps or so. Ernie appeared to be disoriented with pain.
“Can you walk? We need to get out of here,” Michel said.
“I told you already— a, m, b, u, l, a— ”
“I’ll drive you to the hospital, it’s faster. Now, can you walk?”
Hopper watched them fumble around before telling the guys, “Thanks for that. I owe you.”
They helped him up, the quiet one saying, “She told us to do it. And, look, two on one ain’t fair anyway. We’re settled.”
“Maybe one beer?”
“She said we can drink free the rest of the day if we helped. Remember, we don’t like you. No need for us to get all friendly now.”
“Sorry.”
The other said, “I’ll give you credit—you cracked the shit outta that guy’s knee.”
Hopper grinned. Michel had helped Ernie up, one-legged, draped the punk’s arm over his shoulder and walked towards a black Chrysler 300. They looked like two old men.
Back in the car, Hopper took a peek at his face—cheek ballooned out, half his mouth purple. Dried blood on his earlobe. He felt like a prisoner of war. Next time he wouldn’t be facing Ernie. The kid had probably beaten down some wannabes before, but his stock would drop after fucking up this job. No, next time they’d send guys with guns and pliers and rubbing alcohol. Sickos. Hopper’s job was about to start sucking worse really soon.
He checked his watch. Still on schedule to see Divinity. Wished he looked better, didn’t want her to worry. She punished him when she was worried about him—usually cut him off for a while. Usually ended up in bed with a couple other guys, swilling frozen margaritas and fucking away her fear.
A few blocks from the office, rolling along Decatur with the windows down, Hopper got a call from Divinity. She wanted to meet at her dorm room instead of the office.
“Two trips to that dump in one day is a bit much,” she said.
Maybe, but Hopper was sure she’d done it before without complaint. This was something else. Hopper got the code: My roommate is gone and I’m horny.
“You okay with that?” she said when he didn’t say anything past Hm .
“I’ll be putting you to work. You’ve got time?” No sex, please .
“More than enough. And energy to burn.” There’d better be sex, you prick.
Hopper sighed. “Soon as I can break out of traffic.”
She said, “Can’t wait.” Hung up.
Hopper’s stomach ached. He hated disappointing her. He thought about her naked. Got a little stirring from his tired tool. He tried thinking the thing he didn’t like: her fucking frat boys. She’d detailed a few of those encounters one night. Pissed Hopper off. Got him hard like a monument.
It didn’t work so well this time. He was too tired, too frustrated, and he hoped she would wipe his face with a cool cloth and make sympathetic noises. He needed that so bad. But Divinity, most of the time, wasn’t that type of girl.
By the time he pulled into the parking lot at Divinity’s dorm at the University of New Orleans, his cheek and ear were still throbbing, although not quite as much. Sharp to the touch. Another look in the rearview showed him in bad shape. He needed recovery time. Only the first day of the case and he already had death threats, beatings, and jailbait on his plate. He adjusted his crotch, his dick trying to shrink the more he willed it to grow.
The student workers at the desk knew him on sight and buzzed him in, told him Divinity was waiting for him, doing an imitation of a gentleman’s club hostess. He headed for the elevator and heard the usual whispered chat among the girls in the lobby:
“Such a nerd, but what a man”, “I’d do him. Can you believe how good he smells ?”, and “D’s told me how good he is. In her all-time top three.”
Not number one? Hopper thought.
Her floor. Her door. He knocked, heard the girlish, “Come in!
“Can you walk? We need to get out of here,” Michel said.
“I told you already— a, m, b, u, l, a— ”
“I’ll drive you to the hospital, it’s faster. Now, can you walk?”
Hopper watched them fumble around before telling the guys, “Thanks for that. I owe you.”
They helped him up, the quiet one saying, “She told us to do it. And, look, two on one ain’t fair anyway. We’re settled.”
“Maybe one beer?”
“She said we can drink free the rest of the day if we helped. Remember, we don’t like you. No need for us to get all friendly now.”
“Sorry.”
The other said, “I’ll give you credit—you cracked the shit outta that guy’s knee.”
Hopper grinned. Michel had helped Ernie up, one-legged, draped the punk’s arm over his shoulder and walked towards a black Chrysler 300. They looked like two old men.
Back in the car, Hopper took a peek at his face—cheek ballooned out, half his mouth purple. Dried blood on his earlobe. He felt like a prisoner of war. Next time he wouldn’t be facing Ernie. The kid had probably beaten down some wannabes before, but his stock would drop after fucking up this job. No, next time they’d send guys with guns and pliers and rubbing alcohol. Sickos. Hopper’s job was about to start sucking worse really soon.
He checked his watch. Still on schedule to see Divinity. Wished he looked better, didn’t want her to worry. She punished him when she was worried about him—usually cut him off for a while. Usually ended up in bed with a couple other guys, swilling frozen margaritas and fucking away her fear.
A few blocks from the office, rolling along Decatur with the windows down, Hopper got a call from Divinity. She wanted to meet at her dorm room instead of the office.
“Two trips to that dump in one day is a bit much,” she said.
Maybe, but Hopper was sure she’d done it before without complaint. This was something else. Hopper got the code: My roommate is gone and I’m horny.
“You okay with that?” she said when he didn’t say anything past Hm .
“I’ll be putting you to work. You’ve got time?” No sex, please .
“More than enough. And energy to burn.” There’d better be sex, you prick.
Hopper sighed. “Soon as I can break out of traffic.”
She said, “Can’t wait.” Hung up.
Hopper’s stomach ached. He hated disappointing her. He thought about her naked. Got a little stirring from his tired tool. He tried thinking the thing he didn’t like: her fucking frat boys. She’d detailed a few of those encounters one night. Pissed Hopper off. Got him hard like a monument.
It didn’t work so well this time. He was too tired, too frustrated, and he hoped she would wipe his face with a cool cloth and make sympathetic noises. He needed that so bad. But Divinity, most of the time, wasn’t that type of girl.
By the time he pulled into the parking lot at Divinity’s dorm at the University of New Orleans, his cheek and ear were still throbbing, although not quite as much. Sharp to the touch. Another look in the rearview showed him in bad shape. He needed recovery time. Only the first day of the case and he already had death threats, beatings, and jailbait on his plate. He adjusted his crotch, his dick trying to shrink the more he willed it to grow.
The student workers at the desk knew him on sight and buzzed him in, told him Divinity was waiting for him, doing an imitation of a gentleman’s club hostess. He headed for the elevator and heard the usual whispered chat among the girls in the lobby:
“Such a nerd, but what a man”, “I’d do him. Can you believe how good he smells ?”, and “D’s told me how good he is. In her all-time top three.”
Not number one? Hopper thought.
Her floor. Her door. He knocked, heard the girlish, “Come in!
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