Tomorrow night. Six o’clock.

One step closer to Nora’s client list.

I want to submit to you.

I can’t stop replaying her voice in my head. It makes me feel powerful and wanted. I want to hear it again. I’m going to make her say it again…

“How’s it going, Snow?”

My shoulder lurches forward as Roger smacks my back. I stand up straight against the door frame again. “Going fine,” I say.

People pass by us on their way out. It’s closing time. Roger the black blob, however, lingers in front of me.

“Didn’t see the newbie here tonight,” he says with a knowing laugh. “Trouble in paradise already?”

I sneer and point a stiff thumb over my shoulder toward the door. “Keep moving, Roger,” I say.

He pats my shoulder again with his black-covered hand and carries on toward the exit.

Trouble in paradise? Not even close, Rog.

I want to submit to you.

And she will.

That should keep me warm tonight. Hopefully.

I walk upstairs to the third floor. All six pink lights are turned off but I check each room just in case. I wipe down the furniture and the sinks. I check the closets to make sure everything is in place.

Same goes for the second floor. Wipe down the crosses and the benches. Hang up any spare leashes or chains onto the wall hooks. Sweep the floors.

Once the water and juice bar is tidied up, I head for the front entrance. Judy sits behind the counter in her usual place, counting down the register and filling out her paperwork.

“Second and third floors are clear,” I say, casting a wave. “I’m heading out. Goodnight, Judy.”

She glances up and flashes me a smile. “Have a good night, honey,” she says.

I step outside, pulling my coat a little tighter around me as I nudge the door closed. It’s starting to get cold. I’m not too thrilled about that but it’s just another thing in the world I have no control over.

I walk around the building to the back alleyway where my car is parked. As I draw closer, I fish into my pocket for my keys.

Tomorrow is Saturday. No plugging numbers at Little Black Book on weekends but I have an early shift at the gym. I’ll make my way there now.

The roads are mostly clear so it only takes a few minutes for me to cross town. I round the building and park in a spot down from the entrance. My shift doesn’t start until seven-thirty, so I have just under five hours to get a bit of sleep.

I lean over and grab the windshield visor from the floor by the passenger seat. I spread it over the dash and press it up to the window to block out as much of the annoying orange street lamps as possible.

My stomach growls and I look across the street at the twenty-four-hour convenience store. I won’t be able to sleep unless I eat something, so I twist around, grab my extra jacket, and step outside.

The man behind the counter waves at me as I walk in. Whether he recognizes me or not, I’m not sure. Nor do I really care. I pass by the register and grab a turkey sandwich and a bottle of water from the first fridge after the display of lottery tickets.

“That your car?” he asks me. “Outside the gym?”

“Yeah,” I say.

I set the items down on the counter and reach for my wallet.

He waves a sympathetic hand. “On me tonight, pal.”

I pause. Guess he remembers me just fine.

I’ve encountered this kind of thing plenty before. In the end, it’s best not to turn it down. It fills my stomach and makes them feel good about themselves. Win-win.

He eyes the patch on my jacket. “Thank you for your service,” he says.

“Thanks.”

I take the water and sandwich and walk out with them back to my car.

There’s some trash on the backseat. I gather the empty bottles and food wrappers and toss them in the trashcan outside the gym. I grab an extra blanket from the trunk as well. Can’t have too many of those.

I toss it onto my backseat on the way in and close the door behind me. Only a little bit of light from outside manages to slip in through the window covers. I won’t need much anyway.

I set my watch to go off at seven as another hunger pang rattles my gut. I tear open the sandwich wrapper and take a quick bite of the corner. The bread is a bit moist but it’s food. Free food. Won’t complain.

I lay down on the seat with bent knees, resting my head on the small pillow against the door.

This time next week, I could be anywhere but here. It’s hard not to get excited.

Even harder not to think about Nora Payne.

I want to submit to you.

Blood spreads a little faster through my limbs. Good. If those six little words get me through another day, then I’m happy. Six little words until six o’clock tomorrow. I can do that.

I’ve been through much worse.