Chapter Text
The faint sounds of a struggle were mere whispers in the hall late at night, little things he might excuse as mice or the sounds of someone shifting in bed. They became louder, too loud, especially for someone like him. The sounds of someone in pain, someone struggling. So obnoxious.
Well, those kinds of sounds weren't the most unusual thing in the world when he was playing janitor at a fucking mental hospital. It was un-fucking-believable that he was there in the first place. Sure, the others had their cush fucking setups when the games weren't going, but oh no, not him! He had to hole up in Doctor Dickface's private fucking clinic as a fucking janitor, of all things! All because he couldn't get normal work to take care of himself and keep a low profile during the off-season. Danny just loved having him clean up his messes, that sick fuck. What was he up to this time?
Despite his efforts to tune out the annoying commotion with his music, the cheap headphones he'd lifted from the lost-and-found box weren't cutting it.
Why the hell was Danny visiting a patient in the middle of the night? That pompous asshole thought he would have him a good time while Zack was cleaning actual shit and blood smears off walls? Not tonight, he wasn't. That smug grin was gonna be wiped off his face so hard, Zack would have a whole new mess to clean up off the floor.
"N—no! Please—I don't—no!" That muffled voice diffused through the walls again.
"Rachel, be quiet. There's nothing wrong with what we're doing here."
"No, I don't want you to do that!"
"I'm just doing my job."
"You're not that kind of doctor—"
What the actual hell was he doing in there? If Zack didn't know any better—and unfortunately, he really really did, it sounded like the sick fuck was trying to get fresh with one of his mental patients. Dr. Dickface's eyeball obsession was one thing, but that was going one giant leap past the line.
"Don't touch me!" the girl cried pitifully. Such a racket. Zack decided he'd had enough.
"It's just a simple examination, Rachel. It'll all be done in a little while."
Zack's stomach churned at the idea of his own out-of-character heroics before he kicked in the door to the hospital room.
"Or not!" he shouted. "Get the fuck off her, you creep!"
He wasted no time in ripping the "doctor" off the innocent girl by the collar of his white coat.
"You!" she gasped and stared at Zack, wide-eyed and bewildered. "You're the mop guy!"
"Yeah. I'm the mop guy..." He agreed. Wasn't the most flattering title in the world, but what could he do? If she was in here, her elevator didn't go all the way to the top floor. There was no point in arguing over technicalities with someone like that. "So... Be seein' you."
He shoved his oh-so-gracious "employer" out into the hallway and slammed his boot into Danny's ribs. Upon the devastating impact, Danny's eyes bugged out so far; it was a wonder he didn't lose the glass one.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Zack snarled at him. "You know? I turn a blind eye to a lot of the weird shit you do, but you're really getting on my last nerve tonight. Is this what you call keeping a low profile?"
"Hah," Danny coughed with a huff of laughter. "Some of us don't have to worry about that kind of thing. You know, since we're not wanted by the police."
"Oh, sure! Because you like to keep it all in-house, right? You creepy fucker! What? You can't get a girl with that ugly mug of yours, so you just figure, "Ah, I'll just jump on one of my mental patients! Even if she tells, no one will believe the words of a crazy girl!" How am I doing so far?'
"You're one to talk," he scoffed in response. "I'll have you know that my feelings for Rachel are entirely genuine. Besides, she's so much lovelier when those eyes of hers are drowning in despair. I truly love her, you know."
The bile that Zack had been holding down since the start of their little confrontation made itself known again. Instead of doubling over and hurling to the side, he paid Danny no consideration at all. He tossed his cookies all over the front of his pretty white doctor's coat.
"Agh, Zack! Really?!" Danny cried, the horror and disgust evident on his face as he gingerly removed his coat and tried to mop himself up.
"Hey, you know better than to spew that nasty crap around me." Zack shrugged. "Anyway, not that I give a shit, but all that lo—" He brought a balled-up fist to his mouth as he gagged on the word. "Lo—" he tried again, earning himself an even more violent lurch of nausea before he gave up. "All that feelings shit doesn't seem very fucking mutual to me, you creep. Time to turn it down a few notches, don't you think?"
"Zack, come on! Look at her!"
Look at her? What was the point? He didn't need more than a quick glance to understand why Danny had chosen her as his latest mark. "Yeah, she's a little cutie. Do as the rest of us do and look, don't touch."
Anyone could see that the girl was cute as hell. Maybe not what the average person would consider conventionally attractive, but that really wasn't the point. Someone being nice to look at didn't give you a free pass to treat them like a tool for your own satisfaction. This girl was supposed to be able to trust him.
"Oh, but I could gaze into those beautiful peepers of hers forever..."
And that there was why doctors could never be trusted.
"You know? I'm used to you being a rat-bastard, but this is pretty fucking next level."
"I'm going to marry that girl," Danny gushed, all googly-eyed and smitten. Disgusting.
"Your mental patient? Danny. That's pretty fucking twisted, even for you." He looked back at the cute patient watching them from the doorway. "Hey, crazy pants. You gonna marry this guy?"
"I don't...think so?" she answered with a question in her voice, waiting for him to answer for her. Seriously? What the hell did he get himself in the middle of?
"Alright, so you like him?" he muttered. That was even more disgusting. Well, freaks of a feather and all that shit.
"He's usually nice, but he scares me when he comes to visit me at night."
"Rachel! Be reasonable!" Danny cried, shocked and offended by her honest admission. "We have a special relationship, don't we?"
"She sounds like the reasonable one to me." Zack shrugged.
If she had said she was into it, he'd be so creeped out that he would happily back his ass right away from that situation. However, she seemed to have enough sense to know that said situation was, in fact, monumentally fucked. So unfortunately for Danny, his ass was staying right there until the sick fuck dragged that nasty lizard tongue back into his mouth.
"This situation has nothing to do with you, Zack. This is between Rachel and me."
Ugh. No shit. The blatant superiority complex that dropped off every syllable had Zack's blood boiling. He'd been waiting for an excuse to take out some frustration on his most hated colleague. Sure, he couldn't kill him even if they weren't on the job, but there were no rules against rearranging his face a bit, right? If you asked him, it would be a significant improvement.
"If you can't support our love, you'll just have to find another job, Zack."
"Oh yeah? You're firing me?" He smirked. "That's good. Now I don't have to beat the shit out of my perv boss . I ever tell you how much those disgusting expressions make me wanna split your head open like a watermelon? Thanks for giving me a good excuse!"
Danny did his best to sound more formidable than he was, even as he instinctively backed away, hands raised in defense. What a useless little bitch! "Now, Zack, don't do anything you're going to regret..."
"Ah, Danny boy." Zack shook his head and stalked toward him, a vicious grin distorting his features. "My life's one big string of regrets. At least I make it fun!"
The palpable fear that laced his former boss's voice sent a hot, tingly jolt of excitement through him. Danny should have known better than to egg him on like that, and the dumbshit probably knew better than anyone just how much he got off on a challenge.
Zack was already cackling with delight as he grabbed the back of Danny's collared shirt and sent him barreling headfirst into the opposite wall.
"Woo! Come on!" Zack goaded him, full of energy and bouncing on his feet in excitement like a kickboxer that just got a face full of smelling salts. "Can't do a damn thing without your drugs, can you?"
"Says the halfwit barbarian," Danny groaned, trying to find his bearing with a shake of his head.
The blood trickling down his forehead awakened something in Zack, and he saw red everywhere.
The rhythmic thump of blood rushing to his head laid down the backbeat for the sweet song of violence that always got him going.
Who needed to be smart when you had the physical strength of a monster?
He dragged Danny's shirt up and over his face to restrain him, holding his victim in place as he repeatedly pounded his fist into the man's gut. He'd give Danny credit for being able to withstand the epic ass-kicking he was giving him for such a long time, but he could never stand the guy. When his shaky knees gave out, Zack followed up with a knee to his face before throwing him aside like a soiled rag.
"Heh. That look suits you, you pathetic piece of shit," Zack sneered, leaning over his crumpled-up body like a merciless mob boss. "Oi!" He nudged him with his foot when he didn't respond. "You done already? I was just getting warmed up!"
A few beats of silence passed, and he gave him a sharp kick in the ribs to make sure that he wasn't playing possum. Nothing.
"Like I'm gonna fall for that shit. You're tougher than that." He readied his foot for an axe kick right over Danny's pathetic chicken tenders, but he still didn't stir. "Huh. Guess you really are done. Damn…" He made a face and looked around for something to expend the rest of his energy on. The only thing that came to mind was the big trash can he'd been wheeling around.
It was kinda petty, but he couldn't help himself at the moment. He picked up the bin and dumped the trash all over his defeated opponent, not that Danny deserved to be called an opponent, let alone a colleague. Seeing him all curled up in the fetal position, covered in trash, was at least a little satisfying. Almost satisfying enough to make him forget that he had to find some new work and living arrangements.
"You alright?" He finally bothered to ask the girl when the fog of violence and mayhem started to clear from his troublemaking brain.
"Mm. I'm okay."
What? She couldn't even manage a "thank you." Figured, since she was a goddamn mental patient and all. Zack turned and began his retreat down the hall with one last look at Danny's beaten and bloodied unconscious form. The answering footsteps behind him were too unnerving to ignore.
"What?" He spun around in a huff.
"You're leaving," she said. Those kinds of simple observations really pissed Zack off for some reason; they were a waste of time and breath.
"Yeah. And?" He blinked at her. "I do that every night."
"You're going to leave me here with him. I don't want that to happen."
Ah. The girl, Rachel, was scared. Well, that made sense. Frankly, Zack had forgotten entirely about her during his adrenaline-fueled rampage. It wasn't worth thinking about. Danny probably wouldn't touch her again after being beaten to a pulp like that. Maybe… It really wasn't his problem, and he had no responsibility to intervene in the first place.
Why did he feel the need to comfort her? Maybe it was because she looked so damn fragile and pathetic.
"Fine. I'll take the bastard's keys and lock you up in your room like a good little girl."
"But I don't want to be alone."
"Well, too fucking bad! I'm just the mop guy, right? Why you makin' this my problem?"
"You're not just the mop guy. I only knew you as the guy with the mop before. You obviously do more than mop."
"Well, do you do anything besides being crazy?"
"I do."
There was a weird lack of rhythm and tone in how she spoke, almost making her sound like one of those robotic voices people's phones used. Her utter lack of facial expressions complemented that unnerving speech of hers.
"Jesus fucking Christ," he muttered. "What the hell is wrong with me?" Why was he still talking to the little creep?
It couldn't be because she was cute. Zack would never risk screwing up his sweet freedom for something as stupid as a pretty girl! Especially not a criminally insane pretty girl. Only people that did something real bad ended up in that particular ward. Yeah, he could do without that particular brand of chaos in his life.
He turned and walked out of the hospital without another word, trying to ignore the soft fall of footsteps as she followed him like a lost baby duckling. She was carrying a pair of shoes in her hand instead of wearing them, clearly trying, and very much failing, to be stealthy.
When they finally reached the hospital's front parking lot, he rounded on the little girl that was still stalking him.
"Just get your ass to bed already!" he shouted.
"But you're leaving."
"No shit! I'm going home!" What was with all the pointless observations?
"But if I go to sleep, you'll leave, and you won't ever come back," she reasoned... very reasonably. Maybe she wasn't as crazy as Zack thought.
"That's what happens when you get fired." He emphasized the words as slowly and carefully as possible. How was she still not getting it?
"Was that bad for you?" She frowned and took a couple of steps forward. "Did I hurt you?"
"No! Don't be an idiot! Just... Quit—"
Quit what? Quit following him? Asking him for help? Quit being so goddamn beautiful? She was obviously fucking sleeping when that creep came onto her, so there was nothing she could do about that. She was precisely Danny's type. Sweet, childish, dead in the eyes. He knew full well what Danny wanted to do with those eyes once he was done with her, and it made him sick.
He couldn't send her back in there, could he? Well, he could, but he would feel like a massive dick about it. Not to mention... taking something from Danny, the family's golden child, really tickled him.
Well, shit.
Zack looked her up and down. At least she didn't look like a mental patient. She was wearing some kind of long nightgown thing that mostly passed as a regular dress, and she'd at least had the good sense to grab a sweater when she got her shoes. The little brat. It was like she already knew he wasn't going to tell her no.
"Gahhh fuck—come on!" he snarled at her and grabbed her wrist. She made a little noise of surprise, and he immediately dropped her arm. He should have known better than to rough up the sexual assault victim. "That hurt?"
"No. It surprised me," the girl responded simply. "I'll follow you, but you can hold me like that if you want to."
Her words could have sounded a little flirty, but the monotone delivery made it clear that was not her intent at all.
"Whatever. Just keep up. I walk fast."
Zack couldn't believe that those words actually came out of his mouth. That was just fucking great. What was he supposed to do now?
Zack had never been much of a schemer, but desperate times… Well, his desire for a simple, albeit temporary life of solitude seemed to give his brain a bit of a boost. Obviously, he wasn't crazy enough to drag the girl back to his place, and he wasn't even sure if he'd be able to go back there himself.
Thanks to his crazy crackwhore of a mother that gave birth to him in the asscrack of nowhere and didn't even bother to send him to school, legally, he didn't exist. Aside from a few half-cocked descriptions of what he looked like in police reports, there wasn't a shred of evidence for his identity. That probably helped a lot when it came to staying under the radar, despite his penchant for murder and mayhem. That said, it also meant that he couldn't do something as basic as renting his own place. Therefore, the person who was officially tasked with putting him up somewhere had to be Danny.
Before Zack knew where he was leading his mostly unwelcome parasite, he found himself standing in the grand foyer of the city rail terminal.
"Do you have someone you can call or something?" he asked after a long, awkward pause as he tried to figure out where to go from there.
She shook her head. "All of my family is dead, and I don't know anyone else besides the police."
"Yeah, you don't want to fuck with them. Those dicks will send you right back there."
Damn. Zack found himself with a rare moral dilemma. Why did he agree to let her tag along? He didn't even know what the hell she did to end up in a place like that. She looked innocent enough, but appearances were usually deceiving.
"Okay. Where are we going?"
"What?" He didn't have an answer prepared for her… at all. Did the situation warrant him lying? Even the thought of being so blatantly dishonest made him queasy. However… That didn't mean he had to offer up any extra information, right? Yeah, he could stomach that much.
"We're at a train station. Where are we going? Don't you live close to where you work?" she questioned him with a mix of curiosity and accusation.
"You're actually pretty smart, aren't you?"
"Mm—not so much anymore."
"Right... Crazy, not stupid." He mulled that over in his head for a moment. Most people couldn't seem to tell the difference, and he was a bit of both himself.
He was a complete piece of shit for trying it, and he wasn't entirely sure it was even going to work in the first place, but she seemed sane enough to get by on her own. Seriously, if he wanted a tag-along in his life, he'd shake down some girl scouts for their cookies. His stomach growled to remind him how long it'd been since he'd eaten. Oh, right. He had a mission to take care of, then he could track down something to chow down on.
"So... Are you hungry?" he asked her. Damn, those little chocolate cookies sounded good…
"Starving."
"I bet. That hospital food is garbage, isn't it?"
"It's pretty bad."
"See those signs over there for the vending machines?" He directed her attention toward them. "I have to talk to the desk people about our tickets, so you take this," he said, handing her some money, "and go get us something to eat, alright?"
"R—really?"
"Can you do that?"
"Yeah, but... You're not..." She looked up at him with a deep frown on her face. "You're not going to be here when I come back."
"Huh?"
"This is too much money for the task you've given me. I've done this before with my parents," she told him matter-of-factly. "If you want to get rid of me, just say so. You don't have to pay me or trick me."
Alright, so she definitely wasn't an idiot, and while that should have made it easier to throw her to the wolves, he found himself feeling kind of bad for her. Wait—no. Zack Foster didn't feel bad for anyone! He was just worried that she might be able to identify him if she chose to report him to the cops. Yeah, of course! That made way more sense! He was just letting her follow him out of self-preservation. That's all!
"God fucking damn it," he muttered, shoulders slumping in defeat. "Let's go.
The lights in this place always hurt Zack's eyes, and it sure as hell wasn't somewhere he liked to visit. All around them stood furniture adorned in velvety red fabrics and slick leather. Spotlights and purple mood lighting highlighted various areas of the building.
If you asked Zack, the only saving grace the place had was that the music wasn't wholly intolerable.
A downtempo song was thumping through the speakers. The heavy bass could be felt through the floor just as much as it could be heard. Surprisingly, he actually knew the song. It was one that he had on the playlist he used to break the monotony of cleaning floors. It definitely wasn't anything unexpected for a club, some unique Closer mix. He liked Nine Inch Nails well enough. The words were angry, but the music itself was relaxed enough to be entertaining without riling him up too much.
All in all, the atmosphere wasn't the absolute worst; he could kind of see himself working there. Even if it was teeming with people, they certainly wouldn't be there to gawk at him.
"What is this place?" The parasite looked around in wonder as he pulled her past security.
"Just shut up for a while and don't talk to anyone, alright? I have to take care of something."
"Those girls are naked."
"Oh yeah?"
"There are a lot of naked people here."
"You're right. They're naked. Hardly noticed. Just ignore them, alright?" Zack implored her. "I have to talk to an old friend about a job, okay?"
"You want to work here? Should I get naked too?"
"What? No! Just sit down and try not to get noticed for a few minutes."
"Okay. I'll try not to talk to anyone," the wayward girl agreed and sat down at a stool a few tables from the bar.
"And just what have you done for me lately that makes you think I'm going to help you out?"
"I'm not asking for that much! Come on, Cath. You're all I've got." Ugh. He hated begging for shit, but Cathy was a sadist, and he knew full well that she got her kicks out of seeing him on his knees. Well, figuratively, anyway. He wasn't that desperate for a handout.
"I'll consider it. But first, a little explanation is warranted, don't you think? You said you'd never work here in a million years. If I'm going to help my sweet little baby brother out, I want to know why."
That smug smile on her face never failed to do his head in. She could never get enough of her "favorite sinner," regaling her with the latest tales about how much trouble he'd somehow managed to get himself into. Unfortunately for his dwindling patience, he was her favorite sinner. Great. That shark of a woman was hungry, and he knew she had no intention of lifting a shiny red-tipped finger to help until he threw her something fresh that she could bait him with.
"Well... I kinda beat the shit out of Danny tonight," he admitted, not knowing how she would react to the news.
"Ooh, you naughty boy!" she squealed in delight, craving more. "How bad was it?"
"I left him alive... Mostly."
"And why were you fighting Danny?"
"Well, see—I was just minding my own business, mopping floors—"
"Oh, how the mighty have fallen."
"Don't remind me," he sulked. "Anyway, I hear this girl crying and shit, and it sounded like there was someone else in her room, so being the good samaritan I am—"
"Cute."
"I thought so," he remarked with a shrug, "So I go to check it out. Danny has her pinned down and is doing some pervy shit to her, so I decide to help her out. I took care of him, you know?"
"Do you mean that Danny was sexually assaulting one of his patients?" She eyed him, rife with skepticism yet still willing to entertain his testimony. He could see the possibilities playing out in her mind. "That's... unusual. Obviously, he has his tastes, but I've never seen him blend the lines between work and play like that. Must be one impressive girl for both of you to have taken an interest."
"I don't even know her!" he whined and stomped his foot like a child throwing a tantrum. "She just started following me, and I can't get rid of her!"
"And you brought this crazy girl that you don't even know into my place of business? Shocking."
"You're pretty out of your goddamn mind yourself," he reminded Cathy, already gassed and mirthless after recounting the unfortunate tale of woe for her.
"That's fair." She shrugged. "Well? Let's have a look at her. You were hoping to get her a job here or something, right?"
"What? No!"
"She's not attractive?"
"That's not really the issue..." He blushed and found a particularly interesting speck on the floor to focus his attention on.
"So, she is! Aww, Zack! You adorable little sinner, you. You have a crush on her! Don't you?"
"I do not!" he spat. Sure, Rachel was cute, but that little creep gave him—well, the creeps.
One of the serving girls chose that moment to peek into the backroom with an anxious look on her face.
"Uhh...boss? We have a bit of a problem."
"What kind of problem?" Cathy snapped, irritated by her employee's indirect attitude. "I'm a little busy!"
"There's an adorable little blonde girl up on stage that definitely does not look like a customer."
"Goddamnit!" Zack snarled and shoved past her out onto the stage.
There she was, dancing with the other girls like she was some kind of natural... No, not a natural, like she'd done it before.
"And you're done!" Zack snatched her off the stage and threw her over his shoulder. The eruption of complaints and disappointed jeers as he hauled her back into a dark corner of the club hardly fazed him. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he snarled at her and wrapped his jacket around her mostly naked body. "I told you not to draw any attention to yourself!"
"You left me there, and a bunch of people wanted me to dance for them, so I did. Was that bad?"
"Did you like dancing for them?" He sighed wearily.
"I think I'm a good dancer. It was a little uncomfortable, but I just pretended I was dancing for you," she responded with a shrug.
"What?" How did that even—what the hell was that supposed to mean? "No! You don't do things just because people want you to or because people tell you to, alright?"
"But... you're telling me not to listen to what people tell me to do. You're a person too."
"Of fucking course, I wound up getting stuck with the most smart-ass crazy bitch on the planet."
He wheeled her back to the changing rooms, and she waved to some random dude that was smiling at her.
"That man offered me two hundred dollars for a blow job."
Oh god...
"I've never had a job before, but if you want me to do it, I will."
"Don't take any random jobs from people, alright?" He sighed. "You only work for me, got it?"
"I work for you. Got it," Rachel readily agreed. She was silent for a long moment. "So—will you give me two hundred dollars for a blow job?"
"No!"
"So this is her, huh?" Cathy licked her lips and looked her up and down. "Very nice..."
"Don't even think about it! She's not working here."
"She does look a little young, doesn't she? A lot of people are attracted to that, though. How old are you? You little cutie."
"I'll be eighteen next month."
"Damn. Almost legal. Such a shame."
Gross. She looked genuinely jilted by that information.
"Is this your girlfriend, Zack?" Rachel asked him.
"What? No!"
"Is she your wife?"
"No, you psycho! She's like my sister." Why the hell was he even bothering to explain something like that to her? The idea of doing anything like that with Cathy was nauseating, not that it was any of her business.
"She's like your sister, but she's not your sister?"
There was a slight change in her expression as she said the words. She almost looked angry, if the challenging glint in her ever-present dull stare was anything to go by.
"What's with the third degree? We...we kind of grew up together, okay? You know what? You ask too many questions."
"Aww, she likes you too, Zack." Cathy was gushing over the two of them like a proud parent taking prom pictures.
"She does not!" he snapped, but Cathy was far too absorbed with Rachel to hear his vehement denial. Why did he even bother? She always got like that when she found a new sinner, devoting all of her sharp observation skills into probing her latest fascination. Or rather, her next victim.
He had the most inexplicable urge to shield Rachel from the scrutinizing and predatory look he'd been subjected to many times before. Before that became necessary, Cathy pretended to shift gears. She handed her back the discarded clothes that had somehow found their way into her possession and put a greedy arm around Rachel. It was so quick, he could have missed it, but the challenging glare Cathy shot his way let him know that she knew exactly what was going through his head.
"Oh—your skin is so soft…." The crazy harpy marveled in awe, sliding her intimidating talons down the exposed, vulnerable flesh of poor Rachel's arm. "Zack, have you felt this?"
"Of course not!" he barked, but Cathy was hardly interested in anything he had to say at that moment. She was laser-focused on digging her way under the surface that was Rachel's eerie, unflappable demeanor.
"And what do you think of our Zack here?"
"Mm…" Rachel brought a hand up to her chin, sincerely considering the question. "I really like Zack. He's strong and handsome," she answered matter-of-factly. "I don't think he likes me very much. I make problems for him."
"She's just the most precious thing in the world! Isn't she, Zack?"
"It's not like that! I told you! But I couldn't exactly leave her there. You know what Danny likes to do to girls."
"Of course you couldn't," she cooed. "That would be a tragic waste. You know—I could make an exception to the age policy, I suppose. Start her off serving. What do you say, Rachel?"
"No," Zack flat-out refused before she had a chance to respond.
"Oh, come on, look at her! She's like a little doll; I just want to dress her up!"
"You finally bust your own eardrums with all that damn screeching you're always doing? I said, no!"
"Yet here you are, still asking for favors. I'm not short on security; I'm short on servers. Do you want to be a serving girl, Zack?"
"I don't think your customers would appreciate that," he muttered, rolling his eyes. "Come on. You really think I can't do a better job than those guys you call security? Hell, you can fire two of them. You know I don't need anyone to back me up."
"That would be the economic decision..." she considered it seriously. For all the airs she put on, Cathy was a stone-cold bitch, and she was nothing if not logical to a fault. "Legally, I need to give them two months' notice to terminate without cause, though."
"Two months?" he huffed. "Like this is a legal establishment! And you're not even a judge anymore!"
"Way to come begging for a handout then insult a woman's livelihood, Zack. Where is your tact?"
"Sparky there does coke during his breaks, and the better-looking one fucks your female clientele. Bam. Done. No wrongful firing or whatever." He was a bit proud of himself for remembering that when it was actually helpful.
"Well—I suppose that could work..."
"Or I could just kill them," he offered, hoping she'd accept. That sounded like a fun way to cool off a little.
"That would work better, actually." She tapped her chin thoughtfully.
"Are you really going to kill them, Zack?" Rachel piped up, reminding them both that the main topic of their debate was just standing there, watching them fight over scraps like a couple of territorial beasts.
"Uhh—no? I was just kidding. Obviously." Well, half-kidding.
"You're lying. You're a terrible liar." There wasn't a hint of accusation in her voice. "Can I watch?"
"I like her!" Cathy clapped her hands together and looked at the girl with the purest adoration he'd ever seen from her. "Come on, Zack. You don't even want her. Give her to me. I'll take good care of her, I swear!"
Rachel ducked under Cathy's arm and threw her arms around him.
"I want to stay with you. Please don't send me away."
"Wha—stop that! You're not a lost baby bird; you're an almost grown woman. Start acting like it, you freak."
"Okay." She turned back to Cathy. "I don't have any professional experience, but I'm good at serving, making drinks, cooking, and dancing. I can do whatever you want me to do if my working here will help Zack." Zack and Cathy exchanged a look. Seriously—just where the hell did that girl come from? A fucking slave planet? She was bound to come with a thousand issues that he really didn't need at the moment. Or ever.
"Goddamnit." He buried his face in his hands. "How do I always end up in fucked up situations?"
Cathy tossed a set of keys at him.
"Oh, quit crying, Zack. You have a beautiful girl who's attached to you for some reason. Just go with it." She rolled her eyes. "You can use the Sixth Avenue apartment as long as you need it, within reason, of course. It's the off-season, so I haven't had many tenants. But try not to make too much of a mess, alright?"
"Seriously?" He blinked at her in surprise.
"Don't ever say I'm not good to you."
"Well... Thanks, Cath."
"You both start on Tuesday."
"It's the train station," the parasite remarked as they walked past it. "Are you going to try to leave me again?"
He stared at her for a long moment, considering just how broken up she would be if he left her there. Judging by how the night had gone so far, she'd get herself into all kinds of bad situations that he didn't want to think about.
"No," he sighed in defeat. "You're pretty quick to pick up on shit, aren't you?"
"Am I going home with you?" She grabbed his hands and looked up at him with her big blue eyes. She was actually borderline excited for an emotionless mental patient.
"Yeah, I guess..."
"Because I have a job now." She nodded in understanding. "I can be helpful."
"Guess so. We'll see how that goes."
"Is that okay, though? You said I only work for you."
"You are working for me... in a way, I guess."
"Am I going to give you a blow-job?" she blurted too loudly, causing a group of people coming out of the station turned to stare at them.
"No!"