In The Mountains (Tennessee and Paxton)

Tennessee and Paxton

* The New Client. *

As life went for sex workers, Paxton figured he didn't have it all that bad. Still... if he could get out of this, he would.

He hated new clients.

The limo slowed, and Paxton's abdomen knotted into a tight ball of fear. He hadn't slept in two nights worrying about this meeting, and now besides feeling exhausted, his stomach swirled with nauseousness. As they pulled alongside a brick building, the two men sitting across from him didn't look up from their phones. God, he prayed the new customer wasn't horrible or liked to hurt people just because he could.

Nervous, Paxton spun the gold bracelet around his wrist and fingered the tiny decorative key on the band. The bracelet was the equivalent of a shackle. The jewelry was simply there to remind him of his owner. Keyon had all his escorts wear the identifier. At this point, even the cops knew who Paxton's boss was and where to drop Paxton if he ever got caught. He gripped the key tighter.

After a few minutes passed, the two guards with Paxton finally looked at him. They glanced at him like they forgot they were dropping him off with the man who bought Paxton for the night. Keyon, Paxton's owner, never let any of his people leave the mansion without at least two guards. Keyon told all the pros that the bodyguards were for their protection. Ha. Paxton knew the men were there to make sure that Paxton and his coworkers didn't run.

"Is this the right location?" one of the guards asked the other. "Looks sketchy."

The bigger of the two men shrugged and then motioned for Paxton to get out of the car.

Shrugging as well, Paxton got out of the limo and smoothed his tailored suit. As he looked around, he agreed that this location did appear sketchy especially compared to the typical places he was left to meet a client. Currently, Paxton met with four regulars. Two of the old men had Paxton delivered to their hotel rooms at the top of expensive hotels. He was always there at seven p.m. on the dot. One old guy had Paxton taken to his beach house and always at nine p.m. The last man always had Paxton left at his hunting lodge at eight-thirty. Never in his years of doing this job had Paxton met a client behind an abandoned K-mart next to a dollar store at four in the afternoon.

Another limo similar to the one that Paxton had recently gotten out of pulled up next to them. An older gentleman in a black three-piece suit got out with two thugs that looked armed. At the same time, Paxton's driver got out of their car and leaned against the bumper.

While everyone eyed everyone else, Paxton scanned the older man. His name was something-something Bentley the fourth. This new client was handsome enough for being in his seventies. Paxton figured he could stomach this guy for however long he had to work. Besides, he knew it wouldn't matter if he thought the customer was ugly or he didn't want to do whatever weird shit they were into doing. Paxton would have to do it. Keyon would kill him otherwise.

"Are you Paxton?" The elderly man slipped his hand into his vest as one of his men walked over to stand next to Paxton's limo driver.

"Yes, Sir," Paxton said as meekly and as politely as possible. These men paid for Paxton to be submissive and follow their rules. Paxton was high-end and trained to fit in and be whatever they wanted him to be. And maybe Paxton was good at following orders which was why Keyon always sent him exclusively for these jobs with older men.

"Are you Mr. Bentley?" Paxton's guard asked. Both guards looked perplexed, and Paxton had warning bells going off in his head. Didn't they have a picture of the man who bought Paxton for the night? That was the norm.