Chapter 32: Chapter 32: The Rules

Part 4: The Blooming

Chapter 32: The Rules

It was silly to be this nervous, but Quentin was. There was a pretty big difference between accidentally stumbling along into an unplanned role and going out to perform that role intentionally. One was as natural as breathing, and the other like noticing you’re breathing and then having to remember to keep it up. Razia reassured him it would be fine, but she had him all kinds of confused lately.

He stood in her room, in front of her mirror as he tried his new cloak on. True to her word Razia went out that very day and brought him back a replacement that not only fit, but looked good. The problem was…

“Are you sure you couldn’t have gotten something a little...Easier to hide in?” said Quentin as Razia fiddled with the claps in front.

“I could’ve, but that would’ve meant going for a battered, ugly, plain old thing like the one you had. If you wanted one of those, you should’ve said so before you said you’d try out a new double life. Knowing you were going to be in public, I had to get this one.” Razia smiled at him, pulling away and gesturing for him to check himself out in the mirror.

Quentin was quite fond of his old cloak. It was big, brown, and pretty much completely hid his face and most of his features and even some of his size. It was perfect for going by with minimal notice. The one she got for him...wasn’t. It was a deep, blue-ish black with silver threading along the sides. The hood would cover his face from the sun, but it was meant for fashion and not concealment. If Quentin went out like this, there was no hiding. And because of that, Razia had him in his best clothes as well, a black tunic that together with the cloak made the pallor of his skin look vibrant.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” he said. “I don’t look right. It’s missing something.”

Razia stood beside him and looked at his reflection with him, rubbing her chin. “I think you’re right. It’s missing something. But we don’t have time to fill the gap. You look good, Mr. Q,” she teased. “Striking and deadly. A perfect fusion of elegance and danger, if I do say so myself. Come on.” Razia left her room, and Quentin followed a few seconds later, still grumbling.

She picked up the pace, looking over her shoulder at Quentin and flashing him a cheeky grin as he made his steps longer to keep up. And then they were out of the house before he could continue to complain and beg to stay home. He knew what Razia was doing and still felt powerless to stop it. But when they were safely out in the early evening gloom, it was too late to back out of it.

Outside of their private community, people did look. That was the hardest part at first, was just feeling dozens of eyeballs on him at any given moment, watching his every move. There was nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide. Hell, running would just bring more attention to him. So he walked onward stiffly, eyes darting around nervously.

“Head up, slow your pace, and stare straight ahead,” Razia said from beside him. Looking down he saw that she was doing the same, walking with purpose but without hurry, keeping her head forward. “Try to look at things out of the corner of your eye. If you look busy or like you’re on your way somewhere, people can’t do much to you.”

Quentin nodded and did as she said. If nothing else, it was easier to pretend everyone else wasn’t there. As mind bendingly wrong as it felt, he kept his head up high instead of hunching over. He must’ve been doing something right, because no one stopped or accosted them, and even the merchants at the side of the street fell silent rather than trying to get his attention. One tried, and when Quentin reflexively looked in his direction, he fell silent and the two left him behind.

It wasn’t far to Maggie’s Den from their house, but it felt like a small eternity. Getting there was a relief, both in being off the streets and trusting that nothing really bad was going to happen at Maggie’s Den. Quentin wouldn’t have to lift a finger to keep the peace when Maggie was probably tougher than he was anyway. They entered together and found that they weren’t the first to arrive.

“Mr. Q! Razia!” Samantha called out from a table in the middle, waving enthusiastically. Pretty much the entire bar looked at her, and then looked at them. An entire pub of voyeuristic stares. Quentin grimaced.

“After you, Mr. Q,” Razia bowed and gestured for him to go. He grumbled something under his breath and went in, taking the seat next to Samantha. Razia sat across from him, and nodded. Quentin put his arm around Samantha’s shoulder and gave her a light squeeze. He’d had more hugs in the past three weeks than he’d had in the fifteen years before, but it still felt weird being the one to initiate one.

“Hey Sam,” he said. “You doing okay after the other night?” Gods knew he was still having a bit of trouble.

Samantha looked up to him with delight rapidly spreading on her face. Some of her infatuation with him seemed to have died down at that point, but the look on her face from the hug nearly made Quentin end it. She threw both her arms around his middle and squeezed, inadvertently pressing in on his still healing wound. “I am, thanks for asking! You were amazing, by the way. I thought we were in trouble until you ended things.”

Quentin forced a smile. “Not going to let anything happen to my girls.” It was official. Quentin was having a weird dream. The words were wrong in his mouth, utterly alien. It made Samantha’s face light up though, and Razia looked pleased. Maybe that was enough to make it...fine. For some strange reason, Samantha seemed to think the world of him.

“Oh, I should get more drinks.” Lucy stopped at their table, holding a couple of mugs. She set them down and smiled at Quentin. “What’re you drinking, Mr. Q?” Sweet, young, kind of timid Lucy, who saw Quentin beat the shit out of some drunks and thought, yeah, that’s the guy I want to be around. It was ludicrous, but there was something similar in her eyes as Samantha’s. Something Quentin still didn’t understand.

“Wine for me. Give me something you like to drink,” he said, reaching into his purse and pulling out a couple of qala pieces. “Same for Razia.” Gods, this was nerve wracking. They were all looking at him, and listening. Whatever he said would probably go. Maybe it had been like that all along, but knowing it made it weird.

“Right away,” Lucy’s smile widened. She took the shards and returned to the bar. Quentin caught Razia’s eyes. She had the worst, smuggest smile on her face. Quentin frowned at her, but it only made her smile wider. Maybe later she’d share in the joke.

“So where are we going tonight?” Samantha asked. “You said to meet up here for dinner, but Maggie doesn’t have any rooms. Only thing I see happening here are blowjobs behind the building, and I don’t wanna ruin my dress.”

Although hearing it out loud made Quentin do a double take, Razia just smiled and shrugged. “Waiting for everyone to arrive first. Things are changing, starting tonight.”

Samantha looked excited, but didn’t press. Lucy arrived with their drinks and Quentin allowed himself to relax and abandon himself in the pleasant environment of a bustling pub, with people chatting and laughing all around. Andrea played her lute in the corner, getting really into it as patrons near her clapped in time with her song. This was a good place. Quentin lowered his hood and finally let himself relax.

Isa was the next to arrive, surprising everyone. Razia in particular stiffened when she arrived at their table, having a silent conversation with the dusk-girl before pulling the chair out for her. Isa even gave Quentin a minuscule nod that was acknowledgement, if not actual respect. He’d take it. Jenna came then, without Amy. She was surprisingly quiet and subdued. They grabbed another table and pushed them together so they’d all fit.

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Razia got them orders of baked flatbreads covered in savory meats and cheese. Light dining before getting to work. They waited for a while, eating and just talking, waiting. “Are you sure Maria is coming?” Samantha finally said, wiping crumbs from the corner of her lip.

“She was supposed to,” said Razia, frowning. “Maybe Tricia’s sick and Maria stayed home to take care of her. In any case, she was the last person we were waiting for, so maybe we can just start. Mr. Q?”

Quentin washed down the last of his flatbread with wine. He found himself genuinely sad to not see Maria. Now that he had proper perspective, in truth she was the first one of them to ask for him to keep an eye out for her. She hadn’t hidden it, she’d just asked plainly. And aside from Razia, she was the one he enjoyed talking to most. “Right,” he said. “We had a lot to talk about.”

Now that he was on the spot, Quentin couldn’t remember what words were, and also his tongue was three sizes too big for him, and why did everyone have to stare when they were waiting for him to speak? He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

“Razia and I have been talking about our little arrangement. Originally, it was just her and Samantha, who both owe me money. I found out just yesterday about the rest of it. I was not in on this, and never actually agreed to protect you in exchange for a portion of your earnings. That was Razia, counting on my love of cracking skulls to get the job done. That misunderstanding ends tonight.”

All around the tables, the girls had mixed reactions. Samantha looked troubled before realizing she still owed him money and it didn’t mean her. Isa looked almost triumphant, like she’d caught him being as bad as she expected. Jenna looked shocked, and poor Lucy was crushed by the news. Razia nodded encouragingly, unphased by catching the blame. Quentin cleared his throat and continued.

“I already have a well paying job. I have no reason to quit it to do this. However…” Quentin looked around the table, trying to smile gently and make it look natural instead of a grimace. “I only have to work a couple days a week. I can afford to spend some of my other nights looking out for you and keeping you safe from predators. But if we go through with this, there are going to be some ground rules I’m setting down.”

Samantha squirmed next to him. Quentin tapped her on her shoulder. She jerked, looking up to him and looking upset. “Rules? Have we been doing things wrong, or making it hard on you?”

“It’s nothing like that,” Razia said, jumping in. “It’s more to make sure our nights go smoothly and we know what to expect from one another. It’s like making a deal together, and making sure we all follow it.”

“Yes,” said Quentin, nodding along. “Exactly.” While they agreed that if he was going to do this, he’d need to at least look like he was leadership material and in charge of things. In truth, there was no way in hell Quentin was going to do this without Razia taking care of most of the little details he either didn’t know or didn’t care to know. They were going to do this as a team. “I don’t think you’ll have a problem with any of them.”

“What are they, then?” Isa demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. She still had her normal defiant, sharp look but it wasn’t full of the same kind of suspicion and loathing as usual. Maybe she was actually going to give him a shot. “What happens if we break these rules? We going to be left to our own devices, just like that? Cast off from the rest of the group if we don’t appease you?”

Gods, but he really did appreciate Isa’s hostility. Aside from being a welcome change of pace from the weird acceptance he’d been facing, it provided Quentin with a chance to address problems without having to bring them up himself. “Honestly? Probably not. I’ve got something of a...a weakness for pretty women.” He couldn’t help but look at Razia as he said it. She blew him a kiss.

“If you break these rules I’ll probably ask you not to follow us around tomorrow, but it’s not like I’m going to force you to be apart from your friends. I don’t own any of you, and I don’t plan on trying to own you. If you want to know what breaking my rules will cost you, then you should probably know what you’ll be getting out of this. Razia?”

Razia cleared her throat. “On nights when Quentin’s around, food, drink, and rooms will be taken care of. We’ll handle the costs and make sure you’re comfortable while working.” A low murmur rose among the girls assembled. It wasn’t a world changing perk, but they were things that ate into their profits. Most nights they had to spend money before they could make any. Pleased at the initial reaction, Razia continued.

“Obviously no one will be allowed to harm you under his watch. In the main rooms where we work we’ll be there to keep an eye out and put a stop to things. If something happens in your room, we won’t be able to respond immediately. But you tell us after, and that client will pay the price.”

This was one of the hardest perks to accept, and one Razia had to convince him to agree to. Quentin had no problem getting in fights and beating the piss out of guys who got handsy with the girls. That wasn’t just okay, it was guilt free fun. But the idea of having to go out of his way to punish someone, to be an enforcer of his own rules…

They’d argued about it for the better part of an hour the night before. It was nearly the part that made Quentin stand up and say no. But then Razia whispered in his ear and told him to imagine finding out something had happened to her or Samantha, and he knew exactly who did it. He gave in when he realized exactly what he would do in that situation. “The same goes for rival pimps, or other girls who start trouble, or the Watch,” Quentin spoke up, folding his hands together. “I’m not gonna be here every night, but when I am you’ll have my protection.”

Samantha spoke up then, haltingly, clearly not sure whether it was her place to or not. “You know I’m okay with all of that. I owe you too much money to say no!” She laughed, but Quentin grimaced at her wording. “But how much is that going to cost us?”

Razia spoke up again. “One third of our earnings goes to the pot, which Quentin will take home at night. When you’re working, we can watch over the rest of your shards and make sure they’re safe.”

“Convenient, that,” said Isa again. “What happens if the two of you don’t want to pay us, or you want to take more than your fair share?” She leaned back in her chair, staring Quentin down. “What happens when we don’t earn enough and you decide we owe you a little more? What happens when you decide you get free access to our bodies?”

Razia made a face, but didn’t say anything. Her message was clear. ‘You’re on your own, Quentin’. He also made a face. “I don’t intend on any of that. ANY of that. I have enough money from my other job to live on. This is just me trying something out to have a little fun and see what happens. And I can promise you, I’ll never demand you have sex with me.”

Maybe it said something about her crush that Samantha was the only one who didn’t immediately look relieved. Lucy visibly relaxed, and Jenna just sort of shrugged. Isa was, naturally, the only one who wasn’t convinced. “Yes, because we’ve never heard that one before.”

Quentin caught Razia’s eye. Her smile was sly, impish.“I’m not a greedy man. I only need one lover at a time, and Razia is…” Damn her, she was enjoying this. “Razia is satisfying me well enough for now.”

“So Razia’s your number one bitch?” Jenna asked, making Quentin choke on his drink.

“Yes,” Razia said, bowing her head and shaking with silent laughter. “And don’t any of you sluts forget it. What do you say, ladies? You want in on this, or are you out?”

“I’m in,” said Samantha, surprising no one. She shrugged. “I was already in, and it’s not like it’s a bad deal.”

Lucy nodded seriously. “It’s a good deal. I don’t think you’ll let us down. I’m in.”

Jenna was uncharacteristically quiet as she thought about it. When she was ready she let out a loud sigh and said, “I don’t think Amy’s gonna be coming back. I’m in, just so long as you keep that bitch away. She doesn’t deserve protection.”

“If she comes back and wants to make the deal, I’ll probably allow it,” Quentin said.

Jenna shrugged. “Whatever. She’s not going to come back anyway. It’s fine.” It didn’t sound fine, but it was none of Quentin’s business. Not until she or Amy made it his business, at least, and he’d burn that bridge when he crossed it.

Everyone turned to Isa, who was staring at Quentin unblinkingly. When he met her eyes, she looked away. She nodded, hugging herself as if this was costing her something. “Fine. For now.”

Razia lifted her drink for a toast. “I know Maria and if she was here, she’d say yes too. When we see her next, we’ll give her the same deal. To Mr. Q,” she toasted.

Quentin let out a sigh as the rest of the girls, even Isa, toasted his stupid new name. This was it. They’d had dinner, they’d forged their little deal, and now it was almost time to get to work. He looked around the table, taking in the happy faces and the strange faith they were placing in him. He still was unsure of this. He didn’t want to be scum, and yet he was going from murderer for hire to pimp. It was honestly a step down in how awful he was, which made it a step up? Quentin hardly knew anymore.

All he knew is that out of all of those happy faces, Razia’s was beaming the biggest and brightest. She lit up the room just by being there and talking and laughing with the rest of them. Quentin still didn’t know if he trusted her, but he wanted to be around her just the same. If this would make her happy, then Quentin was happy too.