I couldn’t. Not tonight. I was Terence Kingsley. Terence Kingsley didn’t do Morelli torment in a downtown dive.
I tipped my head and forced a smile, and she smiled back, then kept her eyes on me.
“Hey,” she said. “Shall I get you another?”
I leaned in close and summoned my Brit accent. “No, thank you.”
Still her eyes stayed fixed on mine.
“You sure? I’d really like to. Water, right?”
Her smile was dirty. Her scent was cheap.
Sometimes I liked cheap. I liked tempting it with cash and demanding whatever I wanted. I’d learned at a very early age that there is nothing on this planet that is unobtainable. Everything has a price. Everyone has a price.
I imagined her cash value would be a low one.
I glanced back over at Elaine, and she was still gazing at the prick on stage like a bitch in heat.
“Sure,” I told the pink-haired girl. “I’ll have another water.”
“Cheap date.” She laughed and took my empty bottle from me.
Oh, the irony.
She headed over to the bar, and I waited, my stare still hard on Elaine. I was so focused on blondie that pink hair had to nudge my side before I realized she was back. She handed me my fresh water, smile still bright on her face.
“You from England?”
I nodded. “London.”
“Ace,” she said. “I went there once when I was young. I loved it. Buckingham Palace was my fave.”
I could barely hear her over the shitty music, but I could hear well enough to know she was slurring drunk.
“Everyone loves Buckingham Palace,” I told her.
“Right! That’s because it’s awesome!” she gushed and leaned in closer. “Come here often?”
My answer was short and simple. “No.”
It was right then that the band on stage finished up their song and took a bow for the crowd. Done. Finished.
Thank fuck for that.
The throng of revellers didn’t get the chance to disappear from the dancefloor before the main act came up onto the stage. That’s when I recognized him – the Blue Hawk guy I’d checked out online.
He looked better in the flesh than I’d seen him in photos – a cocky, smirking performer with a decent ripple of meat through his frame. Hardly a surprise the room was cheering for him. Especially not when his voice started up and flowed right through the venue.
He was good.
I looked across at blondie, and pussy boy at her side was air punching and whooping. He ducked down to Elaine, and she was laughing as they cheered.
“I LOVE Blue Hawk,” the pink-haired girl at my side squealed, and I forced my attention back to her.
“Love Blue Hawk enough to be your favorite?”
“My favorite EVER,” she told me. “He’s been my favorite for years. I’ve been waiting for this gig for months. I’m at every one of his I could book these next three months. Every single one!”
Oh, the challenge. Oh, to surpass her years’ worth of excitement with one tiny click of my fingers.
I pressed my mouth to her ear, and she tensed. I loved how she tensed for me.
My eyes were on Elaine Constantine when I spoke next, loud enough for pink hair to hear me, even as the bass from the stage struck up loud.
“Come outside with me,” I said. “Now.”
She flinched and pulled away, flashing me one hell of a look of confusion.
I leaned back in. “Now.”
She beckoned me closer, tight enough that I could feel her breath on my neck.
“Sure, I will . . . just after Hawk has finished, yeah? I really want to see him play.”
I shook my head.
She stared. Thinking.
“Now,” I repeated. “Now or never.”
I was ready to offer pink hair cash incentives for leaving the gig of her life, finding out how accurate my predictions were as to how much she’d demand for her flesh. But I didn’t need to. Her eyes were just too hungry. She’d be a freebie at my fingertips.
I’d always been arrogant, but even I took pleasure in the way she looked at me in that moment. It seems I was still as godly attractive as ever, even dressed up as Terence Kingsley in shitty clothes, in some shitty dive, amongst shitty people.
“Okay,” she said, with a girly little smile. “Let’s go.”
I should’ve done it, just for the cheap thrill. Under any normal circumstances I would have. I’d have dragged her outside and used her until she screamed.
I stared down at her, and her eager smile, and the want in her eyes, but for once, I didn’t want it. I didn’t want her pain. I didn’t want anything but the bitch of a blonde across the room.
The amusement at my realization tickled me.
The confusion on Pinkie’s face as I left her standing there tickled me even more.
I was smirking as I tipped my bottle to her, moving away.
“Forget it and enjoy your gig, sweetheart,” I said.