Realize (COMPLETED)

1.

Jennie

I push my hair away from my face, cursing myself for forgetting a hair tie this morning. Earlier, there was a nice breeze that offered some relief from the relentless heatwave we've been dealing with, but now it feels like the humidity is here to stay. If I'd known tonight would be so hot and sticky, I would have kept my ass inside. But, of course, money doesn't make itself. This isn't some fairytale where money miraculously grows on trees or some shit. Maybe, the world wouldn't be so cruel if it did. Maybe some of us would have a real shot at life.

Tonight has been slow. With the cops on patrol scaring off potential clients with their flashing lights and threatening glances, I'm the only one with enough balls still strolling the block. They think they run shit around here because they wear a badge, like that means we automatically have to listen to them because they're stewards of the law and whatnot. But, the minute they're off the clock guess where they go? Not home to their overweight, depressed wives and snot nosed children. Nope, they come back here to the place they supposedly loathe, to get a blowjob from me.

I pace back and forth in front of the corner store that's been my rest stop for much of the day. I try not to be in the same place more than twice a week so they can't trace my steps and arrest me. I've been able to avoid the asshole cops thus far, but no one is that fucking lucky.

"Hey baby."

Fuck, finally! I thought I was going to be out here all night. My new limit is five men a day since I don't quite have the energy to perform like I used to. This guy is lucky number five.

"Hey," I lean into the window, flashing my innocent girl smile. "You lookin' for some company?"

"How much?" He seemed awkward. Must be his first time, he's an amateur, I can smell it all over him. At least he looks clean. Blonde hair, blue eyes, baby face, he doesn't look a day over twenty-four. In this business, looks can be very deceiving. I've had run-ins with some weirdos let me tell you. Fucking psychos! The most clean-cut, white-collar businessmen are the ones to be weary of. They have some of the strangest fetishes...And most of them are rapists. I've unfortunately encountered both.

"Depends on what you want sexy." I purr. He smiles at my obvious attempt to butter him up. He has a blinding white smile.

"Hop in."

Hop in, I do.

"What's your name?" Blondie asks looking away from the road to gawk at my legs. Really, like I would give this douche my real name. The last thing I need is a stalker walking around the block asking for Jennie. Been there, done that.

"Rachel."

"I'm Mike."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Mike. Do you have somewhere in mind for us to go?"

"I was hoping you knew of a place." His hands were shaking, he was so nervous. Amateur oozes out of his pores, poor thing. I wonder what brought him here? Most guys know when you pick up a prostitute you take them to a sleazy hotel to fuck them,...So, I guess this means If I don't tell him to take me to a motel then he won't even think to do it?

I'm tired, like really fucking tired, and ready for this to be over.

"Let's just go over there." I direct him to a deserted parking lot behind an abandoned building a couple blocks away that's a hot spot for these sorts of depraved activities. It's so dark most cops just drive past without a second glance. Judging by the petrified look on this Mike person's face this won't take long. He parked the car and killed the engine. I turn myself in his direction to do my usual rundown of what's acceptable and what's not when I notice he's already unbuckling his pants.