Aubree stepped into the shadowed entrance of the shop to look for her father. Is there a time limit?” I was curious, being a whore wasn’t high on my list of careers to research so I didn’t know much. I didn’t feel guilt, weird, depraved, evil, unhealthy, immoral, suicidal, or mentally screwed up. The note was upside down so I turned it over and read, “Ready to barter?” As I said, I’m not stupid: My father just propositioned me to fuck him for money. Her stomach and left leg were covered with weird multicolored tattoos and a blue crystal hung from her navel, “May I help you?” the welcome lady asked. What a wonky fucking way to start my next day in Hell. Her father had left her sitting in a dark muddy parking lot, under a dripping-wet sky while he sneaked into an adult store. 30 minutes earlier he had pulled in and parked, said to her he’d be gone a couple of minutes, and told her to wait. The only thing I was wondering was if I should take it as a loan, a gift, or a payment for Services. Murder may be the only human occupation older than screwing for gain, so it shouldn’t be hard to find facts, figures, and job applications for a sexual profession.
