Page 43 of The Intimacy of Skin

The Arch wasn’t too far off now. I was nervous about Price seeing my new hair. I wasn’t worried he wouldn’t like it. I was worried he’d like it too much, and then we’d have an issue containing our sexual tension and professionalism at work.

Imagining his face in my head had me almost skipping the rest of the way there, strange butterflies flapping around in my stomach as I thought about it.

It’d been a long time since I had something to look forward to that made me this excited.

My stomach felt almost warm, spreading its way up my spine and across my cheeks.

If I didn’t stop, I’d convince myself it was okay to be head over heels for the dude.

Being so wrapped up in my head, I didn’t notice the person in front of me until I ran straight into them, our shoulders clipping. I took a few steps back, holding my hands up apologetically.

“Shit, I’m so sorry—” The words died on my tongue as the snow on the ground enveloped me whole, crushing me from every side.

I almost didn’t recognize him without the crop top. When I saw his face, though, it all came rushing back to me.

He was the guy who confronted me the night I begged Price to break me. The one who stood there, orchestrating others to beat the shit out of me the way the Johns had been beating them.

We stared at each other, both of us seemingly frozen as the world kept moving around us. I should’ve run. I couldn’t, though, for some reason.

His hair was tucked into the hood of his jacket, and his hands were shoved deep into his pockets. Slowly, he pulled them out, and I tensed, ready for him to attack.

Instead, he shook his head solemnly. There were bags under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept in weeks. “I’m not gonna hurt you, man.”

“I didn’t see you. I swear I didn’t mean to run into you.”

“You’re good. What’s in the past is in the past.”

When he started to walk away, I knew I should’ve let him go. I didn’t want to start anything. I didn’t want to get hurt again.

But my stupid as shit brain just wouldn’t give up, so I yelled after him. “If I could change it, I would.”

I watched his back. He stopped and turned on his heel. In the sun, I could make out his light brown eyes. They were full of tears.

“Change what, man? Doing what we do—it’s rough shit. I shouldn’t have done that to you. We were just so sick and tired of—of getting thrown around.” His voice cracked as he spoke.

My heart cracked with him.

Stepping closer, I shook my head. “If I had any idea that taking a break would do this to y’all, I wouldn’t have done it.”

I flinched when he put a hand on my shoulder. He gripped me tightly, tugging me closer until we were in a bubble of our own. “Listen to me,” he growled. “Listen to me real hard and answer honestly. You planning on coming back?”

I nodded.

“For the love of God, don’t. Don’t come back, Crew.”

My mouth opened in shock. The snow compacted me further, closing in tighter and tighter like it was trying its damned hardest to turn me into blue ice.

His brown eyes twinkled as they examined my face, a stray tear falling below his eyelid.

“That guy said your name that night,” he explained hurriedly, just before shaking me lightly on the shoulder.

“You got out, you stay out, ya hear me? You obviously have a choice that we don’t.

That man who came and got you? Don’t take him for granted.

Don’t take anything for granted. If you take shit for granted, you’re gonna lose it and then it’ll be too fucking late for you. ”

I could hear my own breathing. It was faster. Choppier. I was barely holding onto what he was saying. He looked so sad. I could see it in his eyes, the way they lacked any soul.

Was this how Price saw me?

“Is it too late for you?” I asked.

The man nodded, more tears falling down his cheeks. “It was too late for me a long-ass time ago. You got demons, kid. I’ve heard enough about you to know that. But you’ve also got hope.”

I shook my head, telling him no. He couldn’t see how black my heart was or how damaged my body was.

“No, you do.” His voice rose a bit. “That guy—he beat the shit out of my friends. He came and rescued you. I saw it on his face, man. He’d do anything for you, and if you went back to the life, you’d be shitting all over not only your life but his. And once you do that, you’re done.”

My chest hurt. I could hardly feel my tongue, it was so numb. The only thing keeping me present was his hand on my shoulder, squeezing me. “Why are you telling me this?”

His tired, sad grin was a surprise. “Rent boys gotta have each other’s backs. Once a whore, always a whore and all that, right?”

“What about the Johns? If they’re hurting you?—”

“Don’t worry about the mean customers, man.

I was so angry at myself that I thought I was angry at you.

We can handle what we can handle, and what we can’t…

” He looked to the side and shrugged. “We can’t.

That’s the life of a rent boy. That’s my life.

It don’t have to be yours. You know that, right? ”

I sighed, long and winded. My shoulders drooped, and my chest relaxed as I let go of a million pounds of weight, leaving me defeated and hopeless.

Looking into the man’s eyes, I told him a truth I never imagined I’d admit to. “I don’t know how to live without pain.”

“You’ll figure it out. Does your man hurt you?”

“What? No—God, no, he’d never.”

“Good. Then go find him and fall in love without pain. It’d be a good start.”

After a final pat on my shoulder, the sex worker who’d helped beat me up for ruining his life walked away. He left me stunned, rooted to the frozen ground with a million thoughts running through my mind.

Just before he made it too far away, I called out to him. “Hey, what’s your name?”

“They call me Golden on the streets. Only my friends know my real name.”

“Thank you, Golden.” My voice carried through the air, lulling against the irritated honks of pissed-off drivers.

Golden shot me a smile over his shoulder, the glint of tears falling from his honey eyes. “You can call me Jesse. That’s my real name.”

Just above the cold winter wind and the lively Christmas music that played down the street, I could hear ice shattering. It was loud in my ears, booming against my eardrums. My hands were shaking as I subconsciously traced my thigh.

As I pressed down on the cuts hidden beneath my black jeans, I realized where the shattering was coming from. The shock of pain kept my head from going hazy.

The broken ice began to melt in my chest. Right where my heart used to be, encased in the purest of blue ice.