“I'll take care of you tonight”

“Don't you worry, baby. You be taken care of you tonight,” Tyrone replied, taking hold of the blonde girl around the waist with one arm and holding out a room key in the other hand. Lilija missed a knowing nod between Tyrone and the angry pimp as he guided her into the hotel, the little Russian still carrying her own suitcase. On the way past the wicket, Tyrone told Lilija to deposit her passport and other documents with the front desk for safekeeping, "in case some thugs get into your room at night."

Everyone Lilija was seeing in this part of town were negroes, she knew they existed but had never met any and didn't think there were so many in America. 'It feels like I'm in Africa,' she fretted, and given all the threats of ****, just as savage! Finally arriving at the room, it was small and shabby, but furnished with a large double bed and an adjacent washroom and shower.

Tyrone directed the little blonde to freshen up, and after her long trip she was not going to argue. She left her luggage with the black stranger in the main room. The mustard yellow tub-shower and brown curtain appeared clean, and Lilija briefly forgot her cares with a warm shower. Her reverie was interrupted by a bang in the room. Lilija peered past the curtain, tendrils of flaxen hair clinging to her face and neck.