Hustling in his part of town is unusual for me. Safer, though. There are few other hookers, few drug addicts and weirdos wandering about at night, swept away and under the rug by the powers that be to keep the well-to-do people unaware and happy.

But it’s also a hazard, being here. Why? See previous point. Rich kids don’t like filth shoved into their faces while they’re having fun, and that filth is me.

So turning tricks here is a risk, and I’m waiting for the boot in my ass as I lean back against the wall, glancing at the men passing by, acting laid back and cool. Uninterested.

Not cold and famished and desperate.

At least the rain has let up, and I’m mostly dry. Covered building entrances are a hooker’s best friends. I’m standing next to the entrance of a fancy restaurant, and some warm air escapes through the door, keeping me from getting frostbite.

I’ve taken off my thin jacket—borrowed from my buddy Adam who chose to work our usual haunts tonight—and slung it over my shoulder, showing off my short, skin-tight black top that’s riding up my chest.

Showing flesh. Plying my trade.

Check it out, gentlemen. Fresh meat. Come get a piece of this tight ass.

I shift from foot to foot, relieving a cramp, and lean against the brick wall, smirking at a middle-aged guy who’s passing by and staring his eyes out. He stumbles and almost crashes into a woman with a stroller.

I’d laugh, but despite my plastered-on smirk, I’m not amused. I’m damn exhausted. I’d have stepped up to him, made him an offer, but I’m sluggish and slow, and he’s already walking away.

Damn. Maybe he was just shocked at seeing one of my kind here, anyway.

I readjust my jacket over my shoulder, then lower it. Christ, I ache all over. I’ve been working non-stop to make enough for Simon’s cut and for my gang’s expenses, but it ain’t enough.

Lately, it never is.

And this damn spot I chose ain’t no good. Rich guys are probably scared shitless to look for a male hooker in this part of town, where their peers can see them. No wonder I normally stick to the poorer side of the city, where they all wash out looking for their kinks.

The side under Simon’s fucking control, and I wanted to keep away today. Lick my wounds. Avoid him at all costs, because I don’t have any more fucking money, or energy, to give him, even if the siren song of drugs calls me, that brief time of bliss.

Movement from my left catches my attention, and I turn to find another guy watching me from the shadows of the building across the street. I freeze as recognition sets in.

Oh fuck. Fucking shit. One of Simon’s goons. Did he follow me? Did he happen to see me?

Just my goddamn luck. My blood running cold, I jerk away from the wall and start walking down the street as fast as I can.

My ribs hurt when I breathe, and there’s a line of fire down my back. Damn Simon did a real number on me last night when he found out I didn’t have all the money he asked for. Though I doubt it would’ve made any difference, either way. He gets off on my pain.

Not that he’s the only one. Men generally do.

The pain doesn’t let me move as fast as I’d like to, and the night blurs in my eyes as I stumble between buildings and into an alley. Hiding is my best bet. Saved my life countless times. Sprinting, too, but with that option out of the question…

Pounding footsteps follow me, and panic grips my chest, squeezing my lungs. Dammit, if it’s not the cops chasing me away from all the places I shouldn’t be—which is just about everywhere—it’s one of Simon’s thugs.

My shoes slap through puddles and over wet concrete, and the end of the alley is in sight, when a heavy hand slams into me and sends me crashing down. My head hits the ground, and a moment later I’m lifted with a bruising hold on my arm.

“You piece of shit,” the man snarls, spitting in my face, shaking me. “This where you ran to, huh? Where’s the money?”

“I don’t have it,” I grind out as he shakes me again. I grab at his thick arms and kick at his shins. “How the hell can I pay if he won’t let me work, huh?”

He opens his mouth to reply, blackened and missing teeth and a stench like a toilet, when he jerks and drops me.

I stagger backward, slipping and barely managing to stay upright. I’m panting, unable to catch my breath.

What the hell?

A tall, muscular guy looms behind the thug. I catch a glint of blue eyes under mussed dark hair—then a fist swings at the thug, who grunts, going down like a sack of potatoes.

Staying down.

Shit.

Finally it registers that I know my unlikely savior. My savior for the second time in a matter of days.

Well, fuck me sideways.

Oh wait, life. You’ve already done that.

“Raine,” I say flatly as he shakes out his hand, panting as hard as I am, squinting at me. “We really should stop meeting like this.”

Raine tries to grab my arm, and I jerk away, making my way toward the exit of the alley. I need to leave the groaning thug and this claustrophobic, narrow space that’s crushing my chest far behind.

Unless that’s the fear.

Who the hell cares?

“Wait up,” Raine calls after me, and fuck, I wish he’d go away. I’m raw with nerves and panic, and my hands are shaking.

He’s faster, though. He reaches my side and blocks me from running away. “You okay?” he asks, lifting his hand to my face, though I flinch back. “You’re bleeding. Did he punch you?”

What? I wipe a hand under my nose, and it comes away covered with blood. Oh that. “I’m all right.” I step back. “Look, thanks, okay? I dunno what you’re doing here, but thanks for…” I wave my hand. “Saving my ass. Again.”

“Sure thing.” He glances back at the alley. “This is more serious than offering you a coffee on a cold morning.”

And your jacket, and a helping hand, I think, but I throttle the thought, angry at myself.

He’s right, it is more serious. I consider what he did. “Did you break his jaw?”

“I don’t know.” He doesn’t seem very disturbed at the prospect, though his gaze returns to rest on me. Such pretty eyes.

And a violent side.

“Why are you here?” I ask carefully, prodding at the puzzle. “How did you know to come help me?” When I needed you. Again. “Were you following me?”

The moment the words leave my mouth, I wince. I sound as paranoid as I feel.

“What?” He stares at me as if I grew a second head. “No. I was eating. In a restaurant. Saw you standing outside.”

And then he followed me. This makes no sense, except… I lift my head, and Raine’s watching me as if expecting something.

Right. Of course. Now it all makes sense. Probably came to collect what I owe him for the other day. I’ve been asking myself when he’d demand payment for the coffee and the food.

“Not here,” I tell him, as firmly as I can, cuz dammit, I’m shaken tonight. Plus, I’d rather find a place out of the cold, even for a while.

“Come with me,” Raine says, making another grab for my arm, and this time I let him.

The customer can do as he pleases, and that’s what Raine is to me tonight.

A customer.

“Sure,” I mumble through numb lips and let him drag me away, to the avenue and across, then through more streets.

I jerk my hand away after a while to pull on my jacket and use it as a cover to wrap my arm around my middle. My ribs are killing me. With the adrenaline draining out of me, all the aches are coming back, and the cold sure ain’t helping.

After an age and a day, we reach a beaten-up pick-up truck, and Raine unlocks the doors and climbs inside. I’m slower, moving like an old man, gritting my teeth as I settle into the passenger seat.

Dammit. Tonight of all nights, when I need the money so badly, and I’m gonna work for free. Only, not really free, I remind myself. Paying back my debt to Raine Storm is what this is.

Feels like I’ve been paying back a debt all my life, with interest.

Raine starts the engine, and I watch him, struggling to collect my wits and accept the way things are heading.

Sex. With Raine. The night could have gone worse, right?

Only I’m not so sure. I observe his serious profile as he drives off, the dark hair falling on his forehead, his too-blue eyes intent on the road, his strong hands clenched tightly on the steering wheel, and I know I’m one hundred percent fucked, even if we haven’t even started.