Guardian Angel

Chapter 6

I sat on my knees before Darren. I wanted to say something but suddenly understood that I didn’t know what to say in situation like this. He sat before me so fragile, broken, naked, his slight frame was shaking with every whimper.

I raised my hand and carefully placed it on his shoulder. Darren flinched slightly and a pair of puffy, reddened eyes met mine. I saw tears silently streaming down his face.

“I'm sorry,” he said in a choked voice. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” I whispered. I was afraid that I would scare him more with my normal voice.

“I didn't mean …. You shouldn’t have had to hear that. Now you despise me."

“Shhhhhhh” I whispered, soothing. “Please, don’t say that Darren. It's ok, I'm here.”

“…But…. I’m a whore! A cheap street whore that anyone can buy! Anyone who has more than twenty dollars in his pocket. That’s my life and I can’t change it.” He was crying angry, bitter tears now.

And again I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know about him or his life. I didn’t know why he’d become that, or who he was. I didn’t know what he felt the first time a client had fucked him. I didn’t know what he felt when he was raped by Stan. I didn’t know that he felt right now. All I knew was that his small, abused body curled before me and I had to help him.

“…I…I… don’t know where to g---g---get the money.” He continued with a sob. “If--if I don’t bring four hundred dollars to Stan, he’ll kill me.”

“Ha!”

My shout forced Darren’s eyes wider in horror.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” I smiled. “I just want to say that money is no problem to me. I can give you four hundred dollars. Even more. Anyway, you deserve that money.”

I saw suspicion in his eyes.

“But I have one little problem…”
Really, money was never a problem. My work paid very well. One fine day I would tell them all to go to Hell, and I’d go live in Hawaii or Tasmania. I could afford anything I wanted--multiple girlfriends, expensive autos, I could be in high society. Problem was, I didn’t have any cash with me at the moment and I couldn’t leave Darren’s place.

“If you will do something for me, we will have money. I mean a lot of money.” I saw fear in Darren’s eyes. I hurried to explain what I meant. “Don’t be afraid, please. You must go to my house and get something.”

“What …..what do I need to get?”

“First, my mobile telephone. I need to make several important calls. Second, money. Later I’ll tell you where I keep it. Third, you needed to bring some of my credit cards…” I stopped. Understanding had sunk in to his blue eyes. They still were wet from tears but he looked at me with hope and thanks.

~***~

I walked him to the door, having told him where I live and where to find what I needed. Then I lowered myself down to the bed. I needed time to think, to get my thoughts back to the orderly “mental programming” I had taught myself that had helped me become the success I was.

Being a killer had taught me to think things through clearly. Not just to be successful, but to be able to see situations and get out of them before they occurred. Or to get out with as little injury as possible when the unforseen occurred.

First, if I return home, I’m sure it would mean my death. I had no doubt it was already being watched. Darren seemed to be a smart kid in spite of the situation he was now in. He’d have to be to survive on the street, so I don’t think he’ll have any trouble sneaking in unnoticed.

Second. As soon as my hands were on my mobile telephone, I’d ring Mr. Benjamin, My current employer. I needed to hear some current news and collect my fee.

Third, Darren. He seemed to me a person whom I ccould trust. He was quiet, he didn’t ask unnecessary questions. Besides, he was devilishly attractive….
Wait a minute, exactly when did I start to find men attractive? ‘Seems you knocked your head aweful hard when you fell from that stairway, Mr. Jones.’

And when I was back in better condition, I would kick Stan’s ass. No one deserved to be treated like Darren was. Darren. Poor kid. Life was rough for him. I wonder why he chose such a profession?

I had often dealt with women who were little more than whores in high society. I laughed at the people who thought a woman was pure just because of the circle they travelled in. The only difference with them was they had rich lovers and clients, they went in limousines, spent a thousand dollars on clothes and knick-knacks, visited mundane evening parties. They were whores with power.

But Darren…. I wasn’t sure if he could even afford to feed himself twice a day. From what I’d seen, he probably didn’t. I remembered Darren’s face again. Those lips, his full, luscious lips. Darren's clear blue eyes…

Shit. “What’s wrong with you today?” I groaned to myself. “Easy Jones, easy. You’ve got plenty of girls. Why are you thinking that way about Darren?”

TBC