Page 18 of The Intimacy of Skin

The guy was fuming. To my knowledge, we’d never talked to each other, yet he knew I had a home.

I never intentionally hid that I did, but I sure as hell didn’t broadcast it amongst the others.

I knew a lot of them were homeless, and the ones who had homes kept it under wraps as well.

I guessed it was for safety and to keep from insensitive conversations or jealousy.

“Whoa, I ain’t laughing in nobody’s face.

I respect y’all as much as the next guy. ”

All I got in response was a huff and a finger pointed directly in my face. “You’ve fucked everything up around here. Things were fine and dandy until you strutted onto our corner.”

“What—and I mean this in the kindest way possible—the fuck are you on, dude?”

“You serious?” He threw his head back, laughing obnoxiously as a couple more guys crowded behind him.

“I don’t like being slapped so hard that I black out.

We all know a guy who does, though, and he’s the most requested rent boy around here.

If the Johns can’t get you, they settle for us, and they play by your rules! ”

Shaking my head, I glanced around at the crowd surrounding us. “Look, I’m sorry, but?—”

I was cut off by an angry growl. “Fuck you! You can apologize all you want. It won’t mean a damn thing. You say you respect us. I call bullshit.”

“Hold on, Christ!” I could hear desperation in my voice, yelling loud enough that my words cracked in the air.

My head swam, and my brain was going fuzzy.

The numbness came back, coating my tongue like a persistent bad taste in my mouth.

“Y’all can’t seriously get angry over my specialty or whatever you wanna call it.

Some of you do lingerie, others role-play—I mean, all of us have some sort of schtick we do. ”

Another guy dressed in tight leggings and a thin sweater walked forward.

“Nah, you’re right. We can’t get angry over having something that makes you special from us.

Our shit isn’t as dangerous as yours, though.

You know how rough paying customers can get.

One or two assholes in a month is expected.

Since you’ve been around? It’s more like three or four a week. ”

“Yeah, and you’ve got a choice,” the guy from before chipped in. “We don’t. You get to take a break—we don’t. We can’t say no like you can.”

Fuck. I was outnumbered. I didn’t know what to say. I never in a million years expected something like this to happen. I’d made it my mission to stay out of everyone else’s way because I knew that. I knew I had a choice. I knew I had a privilege that a lot of people didn’t.

I put my hands up, palms out in a sort of peace offering. “I had no idea this was happening. Please, y’all have to believe me.”

Crop-top stepped back, shaking his head. “We don’t. Some of the guys think we should all stick together or some shit. They say all rent boys gotta have each other’s backs. Us, on the other hand? You haven’t had our backs, so why the fuck should we have yours?”

Nothing made sense. His words weren’t computing in my brain. My chest ached from breathing in so much cold air. Tears pricked my eyes, making my nose tingle. “What do you mean?”

He tilted his head down in some sort of nod before stepping back further. I turned around, ready to high-tail it outta there. I didn’t make it.

Someone grabbed my left arm, and another grabbed my right, slamming me against the concrete wall I’d just been leaning against. The air in my lungs rushed out in a hurry, my back hitting the wall hard enough to make me wheeze. I coughed, looking up through clouded eyes.

A leg found its way against my stomach. Someone socked me in the face. I cried out as my wrists were crushed beneath someone’s grip. I couldn’t move.

I was trapped.

Helpless.

“This is how they treat us! All those Johns asking for you, pissed off when we tell them we don’t know where you are. They get pissed just like we are, and then they take it out on us.” I didn’t know who was speaking anymore.

It didn’t matter, though. All I could do was take the punches and hope they ended soon. I couldn’t understand why they were so angry with me. I didn’t know. How could I have known?

It didn’t matter. I’d been heading home to punish myself with streaks of blood that I’d hide underneath my clothes, wrapped with shitty homemade bandages anyway.

It’s better this way.

You know it’s better when others punish you.

You know it isn’t the same when it’s you, Crew.

The voice rang so loud in my head. It was all-consuming. The other men were loud, yelling as they held me up, refusing to give me a chance. It was all I could hear. My weak cries, their anger, his voice in my head telling me to accept it.

Then silence.

Ringing in my ears.

My body dropped, another raw squeak from me echoing in my ears.

Everything ached. My jacket was pulled to an awkward angle, half on, half off. I heard a couple of shouts, catching my attention enough to fully open my eyes. When I did, I gasped.

“I said get off him, you assholes! I don’t care what he did or didn’t do or what the fuck ever, just get away!” Price stood taller than I’d ever seen him before. From my place on the ground, he looked like a giant. Or an angel.

Perhaps a demon, with the way his elbow swung out, striking one of the guys in the face.

My ragged breathing drowned most of what he was saying, but it was enough to make them all walk away.

I looked like an idiot, slumped on the ground after getting my ass handed to me.

I tried to look away, tugging on my hood to hide myself.

“Hey.” Price crouched in front of me, his brows furrowed as he looked over me. “Do you need a hospital? Are you okay? What the hell was their deal?”

Too many questions. My head was pounding. Cramps were starting in my stomach, making me groan. “No hospital.” I clenched my eyes shut once more as I tried to find the will to get up. “I just need to go home. Thanks.”

Price put his hands on my shoulders as I tried to stand. “Don’t try to get up yet. I think they got you pretty good in the head.”

“Ya think?” I swiped a bit of blood from my lip with the back of my palm.

“I’ll drive you home. You walked, right?”

After the night I just had, I wasn’t too keen on that idea. “No,” I huffed. “I’m fine. I’ve gone home in worse shape.”

One of his palms rested against my cheek as he turned my head from side to side. “Yeah, like that doesn’t worry me at all. Come on, I’ll even cook for you. I bet you haven’t had dinner yet.”

I was starting to think clearer, and the fog I was stuck in was slowly lifting. “You don’t need to cook for me, Prince Charming. You do it all the time at work.”

He rolled his eyes at me, scoffing just above his breath. “I do it all the time at home, too. This’ll be no different.”

I stared at him, refusing to give up just yet.

The tip of his tongue peaked out from his lips, swiping across them as he thought. “Is it Willow? Will she freak out if I show up?”

Shaking my head, I thought back to the goo-goo eyes Willow had for Price at the restaurant. “Not sure. I know she thinks she has a chance with you, but I don’t know what she’d do if you showed up in our kitchen. She isn’t even home right now, though.”

“All the more reason to let me take you home. ”

“Nope.” I tried standing again, only to be nudged back down.

Price loomed over me still, shaking his head. “Jesus, just let me get you home. You haven’t even tasted my cooking yet, and if Willow isn’t home, then I want to make sure you’re okay.”

He looked genuinely worried. The sad, puppy-dog eyes he was giving me punched me straight in the heart. And his heated palms felt nice against my shoulder. With a sigh, I finally relented. “Fine. I’ll show you where to go.”