Read Online Shade of Pale by Greg; Kihn - Free Book Online Page B

crashed into the wall. Bobby was inside before Jukes could react.
    As Jukes came forward to stop him, Bobby threw a punch at his face. Jukes had never been sucker punched in his life, and it caught him completely by surprise. Bobby’s fist connected perfectly with Jukes’s jaw and his head snapped back. Jukes went slamming back into the wall.
    Bobby followed with a series of quick blows that kept Jukes covered up, but having never been in a street fight, he had no real idea how to defend himself. Bobby sensed Jukes’s helplessness and took full advantage. A big right hand caught Jukes squarely on the side of the head, and he fell unconscious.
    Jukes slid down the wall and slumped over. The last conscious image he had was of Bobby stepping over him.
    When he regained consciousness, Cathy was gone.

CHAPTER SIX
    â€œHow much?” asked a tall man with carrot-colored hair. Traffic streamed past; the smell of exhaust and garbage swirled.
    â€œHow much for what?” Dolly Devane answered the question with a question, a habit she had, and popped her gum.
    â€œFor a blow job and some pussy,” the red-haired man asked.
    Dolly looked up and down the street, another habit she had, wary of cops, competition, and psychos. Other girls were a block away, doing the same. She pulled the hem of her impossibly short miniskirt down so that it met the tops of her black stockings. “You a cop?”
    He laughed. “A cop? Hell no, baby, I’m just lookin’ for some strange.” He elongated the word “strange” until it sounded like a growl. His voice hissed like a broken steam pipe.
    â€œMy name’s Red.” He smiled and extended his hand. She looked but didn’t touch it. Most people never used their real names with her, and that was the way she liked it. “Red” would be fine.
    Dolly quickly sized him up. He appeared to be a decent-looking guy in his twenties, but his hair was weird. It didn’t look right. The color of it clashed with the rest of him, and he wore it shoulder-length.
    She checked his shoes, a good way to spot deadbeats—they were new Doc Martins.
    Red held his smile, fixed now with a peculiar glint. He said, “I got the money, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
    They stood face to face on the street.
    â€œSo?” Dolly chewed her gum vigorously. “You lookin’ for a date or somethin’?”
    Dolly Devane was a pro. In New York City that was a high-risk proposition. Life was never dull, or life was always dull, depending on how she looked at it. But Dolly knew what men wanted and what they would pay for it. She did OK.
    Thin, with decent looks and a few shreds of her dignity still intact, when Dolly looked in the mirror she didn’t see a whore; she saw a survivor. She was nineteen years old.
    â€œTurn around,” he said. “I want to see your ass.”
    She did. The streets had no shame; besides, Red didn’t seem so bad, considering. She’d done worse. In thirty minutes she’d be out on the corner again, so what’s the difference?
    Way past having to justify her work, all Dolly knew how to do was take care of business. Fast. She was good at it. Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am.
    There are a lot worse things than flatbackin’ , she told herself daily. At least I ain’t a junkie, like most of the other girls on the street .
    â€œHey, I like that.” Red nodded. “So give me a number, ho. I ain’t got all day.”
    Dolly popped her gum again, which she could tell was beginning to annoy Red. It annoyed most people. “Seventy-five for a gummer, a hundred and a half to stick it in,” she said with a voice as hard as uncracked pavement.
    â€œThat’s a little pricey, ain’t it? How do I know it’s gonna be worth it?”
    â€œOh, you’ll know, honey,” she rasped, flicking her tongue for punctuation. “I’m the absolute best. Ask