Whore.

Chapter 23: Tungsten

The lump in my throat stopped words from coming out. I felt the room spin. Malone knew all along. He was just waiting for the right time to trap me. My thoughts were frayed and I struggled inside to regain control. Slowly, my brain began to function.

"A um...a friend had-"
"Don't lie to me Michael. Not again."

I sighed. Was the truth so bad? Maybe I'll seem even guiltier if I kept avoiding it. It was now or never, I guess.

"I ran off to stay with a friend after I got a work-related injury."
"What type of work-related injury?" Malone raised his eyebrows. He looked amused.
"Ripped open by a supersized cock."

He laughed. I joined in. It did sound ridiculous. He stopped suddenly.

"You had sex with someone else after you left me?"
"No, the night before."
"So, you were in pain when we did it? You didn't seem like you were."
"That's what's weird. I wasn't. But I felt it all again after it was over. A baggage handler had to carry me to the cab."
Malone laughed lightly. I punched him.
"Hey, it wasn't funny. I was really, really hurt."
"I'm sorry, it's just...I can imagine you being carried to a cab and it's a little-" He stopped himself when he noticed that I was scowling, but he still had the smile on his face. "So...this friend, what's his name?"
"Jeremy."
I have to put that on record as the fastest lie I ever told. I thought about why I just lied. Sure, I wanted to tell him the truth about the situation; but not the people involved. There was no need in putting Swash in bad graces with Malone when all he had done was help me out. And Jeremy was the first name that came to my head. I didn't even think the kid, or kid-looking-man, had left such an impression. My own logic was hard to follow.
"So...what did you do with Jeremy for a week?"
"Nothing. Just hung out in his apartment and waited for my butt to heal."
He chuckled. "I take it you've healed now." He kissed me. "How did you get booked for two weeks if all you did was run off to stay with him?"
"I had him book me for two weeks."
"Wow." Malone blinked at me. "That must have been expensive."
"Yeah, I guess it was." Maybe I could tell him the actual arrangement. No, I didn't want him getting any ideas. But it really couldn't matter if I was going to quit being a whore soon. I'd have to discuss it with Dorian and I guess he would let me go, maybe with a severance pay. He was married now. More in tune with matters of emotion and monogamy.

"So, your rich friend booked you for two weeks, and all you did was sit in his apartment?" He looked amused.
"Yes."
"Don't lie to me, Michael."
"I'm not lying. I know it's hard to believe but you-"
"Were you fucking him?" He looked a little angry now, but there was still a glimmer of a smile. I stopped. Was he joking or serious? Whichever the case, the answer was the same.
"No, I was not. He was just helping me out because I was injured. Besides, he has someone else in his life." Also not a complete lie. Bradley was another person, though I did not mention the relationship between them. I'll just let his brain fill in the wrong information.
Malone exhaled and smiled at me, looking relieved. He got out of bed and walked off towards the bathroom. He stopped half-way, giving me a look of incredulity before he continued. I couldn't blame him. If I was told that someone spent a calculable twenty three thousand dollars on someone who was a whore, and the whore did not put out in any way, I'll think it was a lie too. But that was the situation and there was no other way to put it. Except the twenty-three thousand dollars part. I slid out of bed and sat up. It really was cold. I got up and walked to the bathroom too. Malone was brushing his teeth. I remembered that I didn't bring a toothbrush. I even had one in Swash's place. I shook my head. No thinking of other men in your boyfriend's house, Mike. You're already walking on thin ice here.

"D'you have an extra toothbrush?"
"Sure, I'll get it for you once I'm done." That's what I thought he said. The real sounds were muffled by the toothbrush and toothpaste foam. I went downstairs. I suddenly felt really hungry. I took a bottle of juice out of the fridge. It wasn't going to fill me up like actual food, but maybe it could reduce the grumbling. I stood by the fridge and admired the kitchen. It was always well cleaned, not like the eternally messy kitchen in Alex's apartment before Emmet moved in to play the housewife. The one in my studio flat was rarely used because I didn't like the cooking fumes filling everywhere. There was no other room to run to, except the bathroom. I looked out of the kitchen entrance at the rest of the house. I wouldn't mind living in a place like this. Of course, moving out of my apartment came with its risks. What if we didn't work out? There were so many 'perfect couples' who had falling-outs and ended up bitter and spiteful. We could easily be one of those; the future was always uncertain. Maybe I would leave my apartment as a back-up. But I couldn't afford paying for a place I didn't even stay in. Maybe I could. I didn't think I would have to pay for Malone's house too. It looked like he owned the place.