“Never got my beer,” she purred, with a laugh somewhere deep down in it. Jim’s fists clenched. “What’s the matter, lover? You got a thing for smashing women around?”

Jim’s head came up with a snap, and his eyes went blank. Robby was afraid for a second that he would do it, but he only said, “For you I’d make an exception. Get the hell out of my house.”

“Sure,” she grinned, and reached in her pocket. She tossed him something hot pink and square. He let it hit his chest and fall to the floor.

It was a condom. There was a square of paper taped on it that said VELVET, 555-7473.

“Be seeing ya,” Velvet said. When Robby looked up, she was already at the door, turning the handle. “Hey. Seriously, thanks for the clothes and shit. Really.”

She swung the door open and came face-to-face with Sol Lipsky, who blinked dead-gray eyes at her and, when she tried to step back, caught her wrist.

Sol looked absolutely calm, except for the hard set of his lips.

“Let’s go have a talk, sweetheart.”

Velvet was only still for a second before she smiled and said, “Sure, handsome, where to? Got a place?”

He slapped her, hard enough to make her wobble on her high heels. Robby flinched and saw a red hand-print form on Velvet’s cheek. The hooker’s smile cracked.

“Well, fuck me, everybody’s a critic today.”

“Put a cork in it and move.”

Sol no longer looked stupid, he looked frightening. Robby must have moved in reaction, because Sol’s eyes flicked toward her and clung.

“What?” he demanded. “You got something to say, Robby? You going to tell me why the count was short, and who the whore is? You going to lie to me?”

“She didn’t take it,” Robby managed to say, and wished she hadn’t. Jim’s hand closed around her arm, not quite hard enough to hurt.

“No shit she didn’t, and you and me’re going to have a little talk about that later. No, Jim, you shut your trap. You and me, Robby. Later.” He looked back at Velvet; the hooker was still smiling, but it looked shopworn. “You and me, sweetheart, we talk first.”

“Sure, honey. Whatever.” Velvet licked her lips. “If talk is what you want.”

Sol slapped her again, harder. Robby gasped for breath and shut her eyes. Jim’s fingers dug deeper into her arm, holding her still.

When she opened them again, the doorway was empty. She heard shuffling footsteps echoing in the warehouse.

“Oh, god, Jim—”

“Quiet,” he said savagely. “Just be quiet, for god’s sake.”

He slammed the door and locked it, leaned his forehead against it. The room felt airless, like a crypt.

“He’s going to—”

“No.”

“Jim, he’s going to—”