You Do What You Have To - 38

 

 

Three hours later, after going through rigorous questioning by the woman who arranged things at Yours Truly, Micky was in a somewhat Spartan, windowless, bedroom in a house several miles from the agency. He had, as tactfully as possible, rejected Irving's offer to come with him to help "break the ice" as he'd put it.

 

Now Micky was studying a boy—Alex, he'd been told—who couldn't have been more than fourteen. The boy looked back stoically, his hands clasped behind his back. Micky could read fear in the boy's body language.

 

"I'm not going to hurt you," Micky said softly.

 

"Why not? Everyone else does—one way or another."

 

"Maybe I'm different."

 

The boy stepped forward, reaching for the fly of Micky's slacks. "You want me to blow you first?"

 

"Not yet." Micky had the feeling if he just said no, the kid might try anyway. That was what he was here for.

 

"You want to screw me instead?"

 

"No. How about a little talking first, Alex, so we can get to know each other."

 

The look of relief that flooded the boy's expression was palpable. Seconds later it vanished as if it had never been there. "Charles said you paid for an hour. If we talk…"

 

"There's less sex." Micky went over to sit on the bed. "I get that. I still want to talk."

 

Alex inched closer. "While you touch me?"

 

"Nope. Just talk." Micky patted the bed, smiling when Alex obediently sat beside him. "How old are you?"

 

"Young enough," Alex replied, staring down at the floor. His back was hunched as if he expected Micky to strike him for not telling his age.

 

"I'm not going to hit you," Micky said softly.

 

Alex looked up at him. "Everyone else does. Well, most everyone."

 

"I'm not everyone. Try to understand that."

 

"Then why are you here? No sex, no punishment." He looked at Micky with a shade of a smile. "That is real kinky."

 

Micky laughed. "I suppose so." He pressed a finger to his lip thoughtfully. "If I tell you something, can I trust you to keep it a secret?"

 

Alex frowned. "Like what kind of something?"

 

"Smart question. I have one for you, too. Why are you doing this? Because of the money?"

 

Alex shivered. "I don't get paid. I get a room and food, if I behave and do what I'm told."

 

"Then why not leave?" Micky knew the answer, but he had to get Alex to tell him.

 

"I'm off the streets, which ain't bad."