The Presence of the Client

I caught the faint white of pale hair in the dark. I swallowed hard.

Did Kareni lie to me?

I felt the bed dip and knew a man crawled into it with me.

He hadn’t spoken.

I don’t know who he is.

He’s going to be inside me. I at least want to know who he is!

It was probably a dumb thought. But it was even more terrifying to know what I was going to deal with very soon and not having any idea what he even looked like.

I suppose in some ways I tended to gauge how cruel or violent someone might be by how they looked. How unkempt their hair was, how thin their lips were, how many teeth they had. Many of those traits could indicate someone was extremely ruthless.

But I was soon to discover that this man was more ruthless than them.

My mouth was dry, and my body was shaking. I found myself instinctively rolling away from him and scooting to the far edge of the bed. As though that might save me.

I suppose it was my great hope that it was someone kind, perhaps someone I knew, that drove me to ask