SKIPPING TIME

Chapter 12

Cacee stayed close to Jess, looking around warily. The lights of the city transformed the black night into a filmy gray shroud that draped itself over the buildings and crumpled into furrows of gloom in the dark alleyways. Everything seemed creepy and sinister. On the bright side, with the glaring discrepancies between her own time period and this one masked, it was easier to pretend they were still in the present.

The towering skyscrapers had given way to short, squat storefronts covered in metal grates and looping graffiti. Neon signs in store windows advertised: FRISKY NYMPHO GIRLS. LIVE & NUDE. Barely clad women in stiletto heels called out to passing cars and pedestrians. Cacee held her hand to her face, trying to block the scent of body odor and cheap perfume. Shane walked by her heel, his continuous growl mixing with the noises around them.

When they'd left the pizza place, they'd stopped and bought a few toiletries and a bottle of aspirin for the raging headaches they'd both developed. She'd seen Jess eyeing up the cigarettes but, although they were a lot cheaper in this time period, he'd opted for a pack of gum instead. They'd both taken some of the aspirin, which had helped her headache, but she was exhausted. They'd had no luck in finding a cheap motel and the longer they looked, the more decrepit their surroundings became.

She wished Jess would hold her hand again. Of course, she could grab his, but she was too embarrassed. She couldn't believe she'd crawled into his lap. God. Definite sign of mental overload.

Jess finally said, "I have to ask someone."

She sighed. They'd already tried this. Twice they'd been ignored, once told to go find a shelter, and once pointed to a group of vagrants under a bridge. Apparently, New Yorkers didn't believe in giving direction.

She said, "Try to pick someone who looks like they'd actually help us."

Jess said, "I figure they know where the cheap motels are."

He pointed to one of the groups of women that littered the sidewalk and her nose automatically wrinkled. Her only exposure to hookers had been in, "Pretty Woman." Nobody here looked like Julia Roberts though. These women looked dangerous, yet somehow diminished, as if the city was slowly draining the life from them.

She asked, "You sure?"

Jess nodded. "Trust me." He bravely approached a cluster of women and asked, "Hey, can one of you point me in the direction of a cheap motel?"

A short, fat, blond stepped forward and trailed a dirt-encrusted hand down Jess's chest. "You be takin' me with you, right baby?"

Jess smiled. "Maybe some other time. Right now, I need somewhere to take my girlfriend."

A "woman" who looked at least 6'2 spoke in a deep rasp, "You ain't gonna learn nuthin from that li'l virgin. You gonna need a real woman fo' dat. I'll do you half price and I guarantee my work."

The pudgy blond spoke loudly. "Screw that. I'll do you for free, baby. Whatever you want. We don't get none like you down here."

The rest of the group laughed. Their hilarity sounded raw, like the cawing of an injured animal. A skeletal black woman next to Cacee touched her hair. "You can leave dis one wif us. We take good care of her. Teach her sum stuff."

It took Cacee a second to understand what the woman was offering to teach her. She shuddered. Jess seemed to note her revulsion, because he pulled her into his arms, hiding her against his chest and tracing small circles on her back. It was the safest she'd felt since they'd left the restaurant, but it also made that familiar ache rush through her again. It seemed like, no matter how dire the situation, she would never be immune to Jess's touch. He spoke, his voice low and persuasive now. "C'mon, ladies. Have a heart. It took me forever to get her down here. You're gonna scare her off and undo months of hard work."