Hear pounding on a door somewhere in the building. Not unusual. But go to check anyway.
I see a dude at Del’s door. Not his pimp. Him I know. This dude’s not happy. Keeps pounding, shaking the door handle. Finally gives up. Passes where I’m standing in the shadows. His hands gloved. His face a picture of frustrated rage.
I watch him. Memorize his face. Watch him leave. I’d follow but not with Del upstairs and hurting. Go back to my room.
Del’s moaning again. Flailing around. I grab him, hold him tightly. He struggles. His eyes open but it’s not me he’s seeing I think. For such a tiny thing, as hurt as he is, he packs a punch. I rub my jaw.
“Damn, Del, chill.”
He finally sees it’s me. Curls against me. Crying. Shaking.
I wait him out. He calms—some. Get him water, his pills. He sleeps again. This goes on all day. Late into the night.
Then he wakes. Aware now. Looks at me. Tries to smile. “Thank you.”
I shrug. “Welcome. How you feeling?”
“Like hell. But I’ll live.” He frowns. “How long?”
“Twenty-four hours, give or take. Want to talk about it?”
His turn to shrug. He winces. “He did a job on me.”
“Fucking right he did. Why?”
“His thing. Likes beating up male hookers. But I didn’t know that when I got in the car. He said he wanted a blow job.” He looks down, scowling. “I got on my knees. He grabbed my head and slammed it into the dashboard. That’s all I remember till I came to in a room. He’d tied my hands and looped the rope over a hook on a post. He was standing there, smiling.”
Del shivers. I take his hands. Holding them. “You don’t have to tell me the details.”
He nods. “Needless to say he beat the shit out of me. Then left telling me he’d be back soon. I was scared, Trev, really scared. Everything hurt. But I had to get out of there.”