Birch Tree Island

In a second, Slim's clenching keister blocked my view as he began to pummel Scarlett with hearty groans to prop up her soft mews, the bedsprings creaking as she no doubt struggled to support herself in those damned shoes. I caught a whiff of her perfume and his aftershave as I listened to the wet squelch of his prick jamming again and again into her heavenly velvet pouch. But just as the show had begun, it came to a close. No doubt due to Scarlett, who keyed up the moans for Slim's ego.

"Oh Jay-sus!" Slim roared, his hips slamming noisily against Scarlett's compact derriere. "I'm going to come, love. You ready?"

"Mmmm, yeah..." Scarlett purred almost convincingly.

Slim's whole body went tense, his red hair damp with the sweat that now trickled down his well-muscled back. "Give it to me, Phinnaeus. Come inside me baby."

"Fuck!" Slim cried, his head thrown back as the rapid-fire slam of flesh against flesh echoed off the pretty papered walls.

"Get home and use some of that lovely French rose milk bath I bought for you." Slim instructed as he caught his breath, slipping back into his skivvies and tugging up his pants. "I've got some work to do with the boys, but I'll be around later."

"All right." Scarlett sighed, standing up to turn and face her man. With a saucy wink, she blew him a kiss, knowing better than to leave a lipstick smudge, in case any of his other ladies were to see it.

She knew of at least three, one of whom was no stranger to kicking the gong around and had gone off the track so far she'd put another of Slim's kittens in the meat wagon over an infraction so small as bumming a light for her smoke from Slim. Scarlett also knew "work with the boys" meant someone was probably in for a bump. It was best to lay low when things got hot. She'd let him have his chippies and clip whoever needed clipping. Slim patted her on the head as if she were a complete bunny, and then turned to take his leave.

"Just come on up when you get there." Scarlett's voice was muffled, and I surmised she'd gotten into her little stash of jujus, the hunch affirmed after the snap and click of a lighter followed by the pungent cloud of tea smoke that began to fill the room.

"You go home and get pretty for me, Scarlett."

The air seeping through the cracked doors swished as Slim passed less than a foot from the wardrobe. He whistled a mournful melody, one of his more irritating habits, as he opened the dressing room door, stepped out, and shut it with a bang.

Finally, my doll and I were alone. After months and months of longing, so sharp it sliced through my pump like a knife, I could stare at my canary's beautiful body. She sat on a chaise longue with one of those funny little cigarettes held between thumb and index, her long tapered nails as dark as her pursed lips. One sculpted leg was crossed over the other, and I could just see a hint of her silken cleft between her thighs as she reclined to stare up at the ceiling.

Though I longed to leap out of the damned closet, I wanted to wait and make sure Slim wasn't coming back. My mind was made up for me, however, when Scarlett gave a soft sniffle. Nothing could keep me from a crying woman. Especially from the dame for whom I'd been dizzy for months.

The hinge creaked as I pushed the door open with a shoulder, and Scarlett jumped and let out a frightened squeak. When our eyes met, the world could have gone up in flames and I wouldn't have noticed or cared.

"Harry?" A perfect 'O' of surprise took shape on her lips before she lowered her eyes. Huge tears rolled down her powdered cheek. "My God! Ming-Yu picked you out of the crowd..."

"Yeah, she did." I nodded as I knelt by her chair, gathering her delicate shoulders into one beefy arm. "As much as I'd love to stay with you, baby, I gotta ask you something really important, and then I gotta blow. It's not wise for me to be here. Savvy?" She gazed up imploringly through wet, matted lashes.

"Yes, but do you know how much I've missed you?" She bit her lower lip. "I hate that son of a bitch ... but I can't leave him. Every time he ... finishes inside me, I just want to be sick." Her dark eyes grew distant for a moment before she pulled herself together. "What is it?"

I kissed a tear off her left cheek. "I have a new case, and I want to ask you if you know anything about it." I removed the folded photograph of Veronique Tate from my right pants pocket and held it up for her to see. Scarlett flinched as if slapped.

"I don't know anything." She exhaled carefully, the sweet perfume of cannabis and champagne on her breath. I felt the furrows in my brow chisel themselves deeper with frustration at her lie.

"You have to tell me, Scarlett. Just give me a tip. This case ain't exactly duck soup, and I've been asked to keep my trap shut. If you can offer anything to help me, sweetheart, I'll make it up to you somehow. You know it wasn't just the desire to make love to each other that kept us so close. We used to drink out of the same bottle, kid. I've got your back, and they'll bury me before I ever rat you out."

Scarlett visibly shook as she uncrossed her legs, and I glanced down at the glimmering web of Slim's load that clung to her nether crevice. She shook her head with such violence that perfumed tresses, soft as silk, brushed my cheek. Her lips drew hard on the joint she clutched for dear life.

"I'm going to say it once, and if I go down for this Harry, I will curse you with every last breath."

"What's going on baby doll?"

Scarlett squeezed her eyes shut, her quaking form hot and terrified against me as she stubbed out the roach in a nearby ashtray. "Find Birch Tree Island, and you'll get your answers," she said abruptly and shoved herself to standing and hurriedly got dressed. "Now scoot before one of the boys hears us."

"I love you baby," I said. I grabbed the curvy armful of her body and held her close, my booze-soaked kiss a farewell that longed to go on for hours as I savored the fullness of her breasts against my chest. "There's a glass of scotch in your wardrobe. Don't knock it over and ruin those gorgeous shoes." With that, I went to the door to try and orchestrate a clean sneak, but there was too much commotion for that to be easy.

"This way, Reed," she called from the dressing table, gesturing to the vanity stool she'd slid under a window. "Slim's probably got all the boys in a meeting anyway. Take it easy and please be safe."

"I try." I nodded with a pause to watch her stand before her vanity and engage in the tedious ablutions that made her such a sight for sore eyes, and then I climbed up on the stool to jimmy the window. With one last longing glance from those heart-breaking eyes the color of rich chocolate, Scarlett picked up the bruised gardenia Slim had left behind and tossed it over her shoulder to my waiting palm. I caught and pocketed the flower with the boot heel of regret tramping on my heart. If only things had been different for us...

The chill night air embraced me with murky greed. Millions of hungry glittering stars sparkled coldly above, watching all the mess and debauchery of this rotten city with immovable apathy.

I dropped onto the pavement a mere few feet away from a crumpled shape in grungy rags. The creature shambled to his feet with a deep racking cough, and I recognized a lunger in the final stages of consumption.

"Hey mister," the man rasped before bursting into another bloody coughing fit. From the low light cast by Scarlett's room, it wasn't easy to guess the dip's age, and he looked as if his days of stealthy gains were long behind him. His eyes were sunken and haunted, his face weathered and lined. But he had a surprisingly thick and lustrous cap of wheat-colored hair. As I looked deeper into his eyes, I saw vestiges of long neglected intellect overtaken by base survival. "You got a square?" Something off flickered in his face, and I felt the makings of bad business from this deceptively demure skid rogue.

"Grab some air and close your head, pal," I growled, darting around the willowy man and shoving him to the dingy brick wall across the alley. He grunted in surprise as the side of his mug collided with the rough and stained brickwork.

"Okay, okay!" The bum wheezed, his protuberant ribs hitching under my strong grip as I hurriedly patted him down. "Jig's up. You made me. Just give me some smokes, and I'll act like I never seen you."

I leaned close and reinforced the point I was about to make by pressing the short nose of my piece into his neck.

"Listen. We're going for a little walk. You can walk, can't you?"

"Yeah, yeah ... but take your mitts off me and put that hand cannon away. We're jake. I swear."

"Good." I grabbed his skeletal elbow and tugged him through the alley, mindful to dodge old hooch bottles and heaps of debris since he probably wouldn't be able to make it back up again after another fall. "How long has Slim had you hiding back here?" He didn't reply, so I tightened my hold on his arm until I thought his fragile bones might crack. Finally, he began to sing and I relaxed my grip.

"He came by about a week ago ... said there was something big going down and that a dick might be sniffing around and asking questions. Even said Miss Marçais might get company, and I was to tell him so he could find 'im."

We stopped just around the bend, and the light grew more profuse. I looked him over, heartsick to realize he wasn't more than a kid under the ravages of drink and dying lungs. Feeling a bit sorry for his troubles, I reached into my billfold and held out a twenty.

"You go tell those men you're doing a favor for one of the boys. Go in and ask the blonde looker checking hats for a certain jacket and black fedora. Bring them out and toss them in this can here. I'll give you the money then and you can get all the squares you want and a couple bottles too. They might take the edge off."

"Right." The kid nodded, stumbling off toward the two brutes at the doors. Apparently they recognized him and let him in with no guff. I watched from the shadows, knowing the poor bastard's fate was sealed. He wouldn't rat me out when Slim came around to find out why he'd been in the club. He probably wanted the big sleep the way I wanted Scarlett. Short and messy was always better than slow and painful.

In a flash, he exited in a knot of shifty gents, clutching my jacket and fedora as his ice chip blue eyes darted here and there before he made a dash for the trash can, tossing them with great care on top of a protruding bottle. I slid across the alley and plucked them up, dropping the bill behind the can, then slipped back down the alley.

I turned the corner, startling a few rats into abandoning their ill-gotten feast when I heard the kid's voice rising to a shrill squeal in desperate panic, his words warring with coughs and splutters and making him sound no more than a frightened child.

"I ain't no weak sister! I'm doing what Slim wants and telling ya the truth! He didn't say his name. He said he had a hack waiting and forgot his hat on his way out, so I went in to get it for him!" A rumble of sneering voices was followed by a definite crunch of breaking bones and a scream from the kid. "Man, I tell you! He didn't come out of no window! He came from that corner over—" The grate of steel against bone, a choking gurgle, and a wet splattering of hot blood on cold concrete brought an unhappy end to an unhappy life, but the boy had been true to his word. He'd died with honor in a vermin filled alley, but he wouldn't feel his final fall or the teeth of the rodents that took away his face, piece by piece. I wanted to pity him for his wasted and brief life, but knew he got off easy. Certainly easier than a lot of us.

**

"Hey, handsome," Millie purred, looking defiantly hot and steamy in a lavender skirt and blouse, her voluptuous body shrouded in a black fur-trimmed coat that looked expensive. Millie had the money and men to keep her in nice things, though she was never haughty or proud, and for that I cherished our infrequent evenings together. I took her hand and led her toward the nearest all-night hash house that catered to working girls as the night drew in colder and closer around us. "You know Clara and Alice keep asking about you. It always seems you show up on their night off."

"I don't know if I can handle Clara and Alice, Millie. You're all the woman I need tonight, and then some."

She laughed, brushing her perfect red curls out of her carefully made up face. One of the youngest bims for hire, she still exuded an ember of hope and happiness that hadn't been beaten or screwed out of her yet.

"You're such a card!" She grinned, her smile bright enough to shame the sun. "So what's it going to be tonight?"

We grabbed a booth near the picture window and I ordered our usual: a piece of apple pie for her and a cup of pure black java for myself.

"Something I've never done with you before," I confessed, feeling damn weary. A bang and snuggle would be just the tonic I needed, though the time for it was a luxury I couldn't afford. "Do you trust me enough to come back to my place?"

Millie studied me from suddenly impenetrable green eyes, her gaze only shifting briefly as her plate of warm pie with a dollop of vanilla ice cream was placed on the table.

"You never struck me as a Nancy kind of fella, Harry. But you've always been a friend when a girl needs a friend, so if you really want me to strap it on and—" The fiery spurt of coffee nearly forced out of my nose by my guffaw was exquisitely painful, and I hurriedly clamped my fist to my schnozzle to keep from ruining my best tie.

"No, no, honey. Nothing like that. We just need to have some privacy, and I know we'll have it there."

Millie gnawed at her candy pink lower lip before raising a forkful of the dessert to her mouth, her bright eyes still giving me the up-and-down.

"You're a dick. I've never had trouble with any of you gents so far. On the level?"

"Strictly on the level. Just promise me you'll keep this whole situation quiet. Not even to the other working girls or twists you run with, got it?"

Millie was lost in the blissful enjoyment of her pie, though she managed to jerk a nod as I sipped my Joe. Then I got up to give the nondescript waitress enough to cover the bill.

"Ready to breeze, kitty?" She offered a sticky smile then hurriedly patted her lips with a napkin.

**

"Why are we taking a cab again?" Millie asked as I slipped an arm around her ample waist. "Your wheels were in good shape last week—"

"The fewer questions you ask, Millie, the better. Now let's get in before you catch a cold."

Clouds rolled over the city, and as we rode in silence to my place, Millie locked her long fingers through mine. I caught the driver's scornful glares shot her way in the darkened cab. He likely thought she was just yet another pro skirt trying to make a buck off another sorry sap.

The boiler came to a jerky stop on the curb. I helped Millie out, tossed the driver a wad of cabbage, and led my hot little looker along the darkened street. She paused at my front door, silhouetted by a distant street lamp, her posture tense.

"Come on, Millie." I managed to slap an all-too-rare-smile on my puss, and she relaxed with a soft laugh, and then followed me inside.

Home sweet home wasn't much, but I didn't need much, living alone. Sometimes I'd just find a place to flop near work since my joint was so out of the way. The faint musty smell of dust hung in the air, and it was clear this wasn't my regular pad. Millie grabbed a seat in my leather armchair, and I went into the kitchen to pour us a jorum of skee. I returned with a couple of shot glasses, and she gratefully took one, crossing her ankles and beaming up at me with a sincere look of joy on her baby face.

"You didn't bring me all the way back here for drinks, Harry," Millie said, putting her shot aside to slip out of her jacket. "Trust me, honey. There isn't anything I haven't done a dozen times before. You can tell me and it will be our little secret."

"You're a top rate doll." With a sigh, I reached into my pocket once again for the picture. It was a bit more rumpled now, but still in good enough shape. I handed it to her wordlessly, and the widening of her eyes was all I needed to know. She began to shake like a leaf, taking the shot in one unsteady fist and slamming it as good as any hardened punk.

"Please, Harry. Don't make me tell you. I'll do anything you want. Just please—" Her bottom lip began to quiver and she rubbed her eyes to wipe away fearful tears. "Please, if they find out I helped you—"

"The O'Malley boys aren't a match for me, doll. I can handle them." I didn't think it was possible for Millie's porcelain complexion to grow paler, but I was wrong.

"Listen. I don't have much in this world, but I like what I have. I don't want to cross them. They mean business."

"All right. Take it easy." My joints snapped and popped as I stretched to my full height, and I extended a hand. She seemed to relax a bit as I led her back to my room. Maybe a little pillow talk afterward would put her more at ease. Especially if it was propped up with a fin and a snuggle.

"Just settle down, kid. You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want. I've just got a tough case and need to find a way to crack it." A bit of gaiety returned to Millie's eyes as I turned on the bedside lamp.

"I appreciate that." Millie began to unbutton the pretty lilac blouse she wore, then slid the matching skirt down over her hips. "Sometimes you're more talk than action, Harry. You know I like it the other way around."

My cock hadn't ever truly wilted after I'd held Scarlett earlier. Now, it slowly lengthened and stiffened as I beheld Millie's round bottom while she carefully rolled down her stockings, then stood up to slide out of a white cotton bra. There was something nubile and irresistible about her body. When she came to slip her arms around my neck, I smelled the sweet scent of violets on her throat. I was lost.

Millie was an absolute firecracker between the sheets. I'm ashamed to admit my poor choice in ladies who'd been around the tracks a few times, but she was like a breath of fresh air. She smelled and tasted sweet and delicious, and every square inch of her body was pure bliss to touch, lick, and kiss. She had this way of bouncing on my pole that made her tits jiggle. When I rolled on top of her to really give her a good pounding, she pulled her long legs back to rest against my shoulders, and I was lost in her body's wet and slippery embrace. She was all pinks, reds, and the occasional freckle, the contrast of her eyes vivid and arresting. I nailed her hard enough to make the headboard bang a staccato rhythm against the wall. She sat up with a moan and pushed me onto my back, swallowing my cock with one hard gulp and taking every hot spurt of baby batter my balls could force out until I thought she'd suck them inside out.

I waited until she was a heavy and drowsy weight in my arms before I returned to grilling her about the photo. We'd been bumping gums about nothing in particular and she was relaxed and still.

"Baby, I know you need to protect your own neck here, but about the blonde? Is there something little you can tell me? Just a name maybe?" Millie murmured something sleepily as she scooted further into the spoon of my body. "What was that?"

"It's not what you think," Millie yawned, her lids fluttering as sleep tried to glue them closed. "You haven't met dangerous until you've met Iris."

"Who's—"

A soft snore and she was out.

**

The shattering of glass jerked me from an uneasy sleep and I rolled over to the cold side of the bed, immediately aware of two things. The first was that someone had busted into my place. The second was that they were either after me ... or more disconcerting, they were after Millie, which meant we'd been followed.