Chapter 5

"Jesus Christ, Red! What the hell are you talking about? I'm no HERO, for Christ's Sake! What the hell am I supposed to do with her?"

OK, so I was a little off kilter. Blind panic might not even be too much hyperbole, but what was I supposed to do?

"Lenny, we've got to get her off the street. She's hurt, she's scared, and her man's looking for her. She won't last an hour here, and my place is common knowledge. She needs your help, Lenny, and she needs a place to stay. We'll take the rest from there. What do you say, Lenny? Will you help her or not?"

I didn't like the look that had gotten into her eye, or the tone that had crept into her voice. While I knew that I had disappointed Red in the past, this was something different. There was some steel in her words, and something very solid and black in her gaze. I looked at her friend, still mostly covered by the jacket. I could see blue eyes peeking out from between clenched fingers, and they looked scared.

"What am I supposed to do if her man comes looking for her at MY place, Red? I mean... I don't want her to die, but there has to be someplace else we can go!"

OK, so I was pleading a little bit, I suppose. Maybe. I took a deep breath, looked back at the friend, and then closed my eyes. I didn't need to for this, but this one time, I needed the break that the darkness of my own eyelids would provide. I told myself her story. With startling force, the images leaped to mind. I pictured her running, wearing that same coat, down a filthy alley in the bowels of the city. I could see her panic as she lost her footing and tumbled to the ground. And I could see a steadily advancing shadow fall over her prone form as she screamed in terror...

Dammit all to hell.

I opened my eyes and looked at Red, as the coat gave a small tremor and swayed a little.

"All right Red, and whatever your name is... come on, let's get to my place and see what we can do from there."

Red burst into a loud wail, and tears started to gush from her eyes at an alarming rate. I watched as her mascara traced long waving lines down her cheeks as she sobbed, then leapt into my arms and kissed my neck. She keened something approximating her thanks, and held me in an affectionate stranglehold as she sobbed. I think she even swallowed her gum in the production.

I reached awkwardly around her and patted her back a few times, murmuring something in reassuring tones. I noticed the Coat turn and look up the street, and whispered to Red that we needed to get a move on if time truly was of the essence. She choked back a couple of sobs and stepped back, looking at me intently. She took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded once, though that look was still in her eyes. She grabbed a sleeve of the Coat and started to lead her along the route to my place. I took a moment to glance up to the heavens, then started to shuffle along after them.

The walk to my place wasn't too long, but it seemed to take eons. At every stoplight, the girls would huddle together and try and look in every direction for some sign of danger. I followed along, close enough for them to feel protected, but hopefully far enough away to avoid any sort of crossfire if things should go awry. I watched as they scuttled along, and tried to figure out what the hell I was going to do about this whole situation.

I didn't know who her pimp was, though from the way they were acting, it wouldn't surprise me if she and Red had the same one. I had never met Red's pimp, and she had never mentioned him, ever the consummate professional. I did know that pimps, by their very nature, were generally not the most genteel of beings, and were very unlikely to be swayed by a plea for common decency and understanding. And from the sound of things, this guy was pissed.

So the question became: What do we do with a pissed off pimp? The question rattled back and forth in my brain, taking on the cadence of something about a drunken sailor that I had heard a few bars ago. And as many times as I posed the question to myself, I came up empty. I didn't have a gun, didn't know where I could get one, and couldn't afford one if I did. I doubted Red had one, and I doubted her willingness to kill the man should he show up in any case. The Coat likely needed some kind of medical care, and I knew only the basics of first aid. All in all it was a pretty bleak situation, but it was pretty obvious what end the Coat was heading towards, and I needed to try and do something.

I tried to think of places they could go. If this john was really as powerful as Red had made him out to be, then there wasn't any safe place in town. But perhaps if we got her OUT of town for a few days, things would blow over. A hooker disappears and nobody cares, right? She could hide out for a bit, maybe even get a start in a new town somewhere, and we'd all get to save our skins.

I knew that this all depended on her injuries, but from what little I could see of her she looked fine. She was a little unsteady, but was moving OK, and certainly had no troubles keeping that Coat well in place. Her legs stuck out from under it, but seemed clear of any bruises or cuts. They were actually pretty well formed, and the little man in my head started to go off on a rather inappropriate tangent before I wrenched him back, reminding him that heroes didn't act that way.

Heroes. What a joke. I didn't have the first inclination to play the hero. Why was I helping this girl? Well, if Red hadn't almost accosted me, and volunteered my place, not to mention told this girl my secret, I'd probably be halfway to another pawn shop right now, working on my big payday. I couldn't believe her timing. With any luck, she'd be OK, and we'd be able to move her out of my place before nightfall.

We reached the front of my building and the girls huddled together while I unlocked the door and let them in. Red scrambled up the stairs and stopped at my door, putting her ear against it to listen. After a second, she nodded to me and I unlocked my apartment, and she and the Coat rushed in. I followed behind them and closed and locked the door. I shrugged off my coat and threw it over the back of the ratty green recliner and headed for the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" Red demanded.

"I need a drink."

Once the little man in my head had enough booze, he tended to get pretty quiet, and that was my goal. I wanted this trouble OUT of my house, and he kept insisting in no uncertain terms that I needed to help this girl, and that I was her only hope. No matter how hard I tried to convince him that this was preposterous, and that there was nothing I could do, and that there were plenty of other people who could do a much better job of helping her than a broke cripple, he kept yammering about duty, honor, and pride. So I made for the fridge for a cold beer or five. I cracked the first one with my teeth and spit out the bottlecap in the direction of the trashcan. Then I drained it without coming up for air. I remember when that used to be challenge, I reminisced as I let out a loud belch and chucked the bottle in the direction of the bottlecap. I grabbed another one as a second burp escaped and cracked the bottlecap the same way, spitting it in the direction of the bottle. I drained half that beer before turning back to the living room.

The green coat was on the floor, and two hookers were sitting on my couch. In almost any other version of reality, this would have gone much differently, but for now, the two were crying and holding each other. The girl from the coat had her back to me, and I could see painful-looking bruises on her back and on her upper arms from where I stood. Red kept telling her everything was going to be OK as she stroked the girl's long black hair. I took a long breath and drained the rest of my bottle, flinging it over my shoulder towards the bottlecap as I headed towards the girls.

"Are you OK?" I asked as I approached. The girls jumped like they'd been stung and the black-haired girl whipped around to look at me, giving me my first look at her face. She was exceptionally beautiful, with deep blue eyes that were almost black, and a pale white complexion that emphasized her blood-red lips and dark lashes. The only thing detracting from her face was the dried blood under her nose, and the black eye which was badly swollen and already starting to change colors. Her eyes watched me warily, and she reminded me of a cornered rabbit, trying desperately to figure out a direction to run.