(37) Trevor Wallace – Dhampir

(Del)

I was so pissed I could have spit fire. I stalked, no almost ran down to my rooms, snagging the key from its hiding place so Trev couldn’t use it. I wanted to cry, or destroy something. How could he have said that? How could he have been so cruel?

After slamming the door behind me I looked around my place, seeing it the way it was for maybe the first time since I moved in here. It’s a dive pure and simple. I had to get away from it. Right then and later permanently. Grabbing a jacket I left, racing out of the building, almost knocking over one of my neighbors on the way.

It was late afternoon by then so I figured maybe I had time to look for a new place, but not around here. I flagged down a passing cab and told the driver the general area I wanted to go to. When I asked her if she knew of any apartment buildings in that neighborhood she got quite chatty. It seemed she’d grown up in that area and knew it well. Since I was her last fare for the day she even offered to help me look. When I asked her why she smiled.

“I was in the business up until a couple of years ago, honey. And don’t deny you are. I recognize the type. Anyhow, a friend helped me get out and set up in my new life and I try to pass that on to anyone else who needs it, like you. And the first thing is getting a decent place of your own.”

“I’m not quitting, I just need,” I shrugged. “I guess a change of scenery.”

“No, you’re getting out. I know that look. For whatever reason you want to clean up your act and start over.” She looked at me in the rear view mirror as she pulled over and parked. “You ready? I’ll know several decent places around here, one especially that belongs to an old friend of mine.”

I couldn’t believe it. An hour later I had rented a tiny but nice apartment. Only three small rooms and bath but all mine for less than the normal rent. The landlady was that friend of the cab driver’s, and it seemed an ex-hooker herself. She owned the building and from what she said was more than willing to keep the rent cheap until I got on my feet again. “And I mean your feet, not your knees,” she’d added with a laugh. 

The cab driver, her name was Tilly, offered to help me move my stuff right then and there. When I hesitated she said she had nothing better to do and that I should keep the ball rolling by getting everything done now before I changed my mind.

By midnight I was in my new place. I had Tilly stop on our last trip from my old place to the new one so I could pick up a bottle of wine and we celebrated my new life. She made me call my pimp and tell him I was quitting and then gave me her cell number before she left, telling me to call any time I needed someone to talk to or just hang with for a while. By then I was exhausted, too tired to even think any more. I fell into bed, very glad the place was furnished or I’d have been sleeping on the floor instead.