FoA S3 Chapter 9

Now that you’ve gotten off, your brain is more able to focus on your real problems. Watching Vicky doing it with this prostitute is only a minor distraction beside the matter of Joey, Z, and getting back to Gurlberg.

Vicky always has a good read on people. She senses this woman’s needs and hits every pleasure button by adding a little hair-pulling and dirty talk as she does it from behind. You leave the room to rejoin a still-blushing Joey, who is futilely using a hair tie to try to contain her hair. Meanwhile, she looks grumpy and vaguely envious as she’s bathed in the stench of weed.

A muffled shout from behind the bead curtain followed by a grunt tells you that Vicky’s load is joining yours inside your nameless benefactor.

Vicky emerges less than a minute later. The woman takes a moment longer, tying the belt of her robe as she comes out. She’s sweaty, flushed, her hair is a mess, and she’s beaming.

“Fair’s fair,” she says quietly, looking and sounding a little taken aback.

There’s a black rolling suitcase in the corner of the trailer, and she offers you the contents. It’s mostly clothes from men, but not all. As you, Joey, and Vicky try to make do, the woman pounds a cold beer.

You’re suddenly startled by a tapping at the door.

“Heaven! You home?” A youthful, slightly whiny voice demands rudely. It sounds like a girl around Joey’s age.

“Lord,” the woman mutters, pressing the beer can against her forehead. So her name is Heaven. She motions for the three of you to keep dressing. You’re putting on jeans and a black tee. Vicky managed to find shorts and a man’s dress shirt. Joey was lucky enough to find a sleeveless shirt that fit. “Do you have money, Jolene?” Heaven calls back after a moment.

“Course I do!” the voice replies eagerly.

Heaven hesitates, scowling.

“And you didn’t steal from your mama or your sister?”

There’s a hesitant pause. “Course I didn’t!”

Heaven shakes her empty beer can, making a face. She hesitates. You zip up your new jeans and button them. They’re a little tight on your package, but you’ll live. The silence drags on too long for the girl outside; she starts banging on the door.

“Heaven!” she whines.

“God, save me.” Heaven stands up with a yawn and stretches. “Go on out the back,” she tells you, almost apologetically. “Just go left at the sign to the Gator Shack. Y’all can call whoever you need from there. Tell Bryce I sent you.”

“Uh, thanks,” Joey says. You tiptoe out a back door and make your way around the trailer as Heaven opens the front to let in her latest customer.

Your clothes reek of weed. The three of you still need a shower and a meal, but having clothes is worth a lot. Vicky sets off at a brisk walk, and you follow with Joey right behind you.

“Is that necessary?” she asks Vicky, who is trying to knot her shirt into an improvised crop top.

“What if we have to hitchhike?” Vicky replies.

“Do we need to wonder why this hooker has all these clothes?” Joey plucks at her shirt. “Did she kill all these people? Or do people just leave stuff there?”

“They leave stuff,” Vicky assures her.

“Did you two really just bareback her?” Joey presses.

“Shut the fuck up,” you suggest as nicely as you can.