Cut and Run

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His first waking thought was that his sins had caught up with him.

It was a moment of epiphany he’d never have come to without this shocking wake-up call.

Linden Case had always denied that there was anything wrong in the way he treated the whores. He paid them well, even gave them a bonus if they fully pleased him. By the nature of their trade they invited him to do to them whatever he desired. But he fully grasped his reason for being here in this basement of a building in a less than salubrious district of Tampa, Florida.

Earlier he’d been driving his Mercedes along 7th Avenue in the historic Ybor district. Although the area was famous as a tourist destination where people came to photograph the colourful buildings, it also had a darker underbelly that appealed to him. Street girls often hung out there, waiting for men like Case to offer them a ride. He was stopped by a red light — ironically under the circumstances — and checked out a woman standing on the sidewalk while waiting for the light to go green. She was Seminole: dusky-skinned with jet-black hair. On green, he decided he’d carry on. He was only interested in blondes. As he’d waited for a stocky woman to clear the crossing, his passenger door opened and a man slipped in beside him. Case was used to women being as bold, but never men.

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