Read Job Hunt for Free Online Page B

like those around him. And if Jack had known how distracting it would be to have Gareth Flynn watch his back, he would have chosen to call this off. Or declined Gareth’s offer. Maybe.
    He drew close to the pimp, swayed a bit on his feet, and wasn’t surprised when the hand reaching out to steady him landed on his hip and slid over his ass. From the corner of his eye, he saw Gareth jerk and bare his teeth before the mission face slid back into place.
    Jack put his arms behind his back and kept his eyes down. This was the hardest part of his act. Submission didn’t come easy to him, and he was far too old to still be bashful. He felt hungry eyes trawl over his skin, assessing, imagining, plotting… and he wanted to look up and memorize the faces of the men surrounding him. Just in case he ever found one of them alone.
    “Look at me.”
    Jack raised his head with apparent reluctance and focused his gaze on the bar behind the pimp, watching the man from the corner of his eye. The pale hair was stringy and curled damply around the man’s neck. Something dark—blood? Sweat?—stained the black leather vest in places. But right in Jack’s line of sight, the man’s grin lifted a cheek.
    “I have work for someone like you,” the pimp stated baldly. “What do you say?”
    Jack swiveled his head as if he’d just woken in a strange place and looked around. “Here?”
    “Here, or any other club I send you to. We also run an escort service.” He chuckled, and the sound ran down Jack’s spine like a trail of ice water. “I can see clients going crazy over you. Especially when you’re bragging.” He let his eyes trail from the tattoo on Jack’s face all the way down his long legs to his boots and back up again. His eyes focused on the stylized sixty-nine that adorned Jack’s temple. “Yeah.” He leered. “Especially when you’re bragging.”
    The man threw his arm around the shoulders of the brown-haired boy beside him—not caring about the obvious way the boy flinched—and pulled him close. “Hey, Ricky, why don’t you give Bambi the tour? Explain how things work. Do it right, and I let you have the rest of the night off.”
    He pushed the boy in Jack’s direction, and Jack had to fight not to reach out and steady the kid, pull him away from the bleach-haired pimp. It was a close-run thing, but he managed it, instead just tilting his head in invitation. The youngster pointed toward a quieter corner of the club, and Jack nodded and fell into step beside him.
    “You’re Ricky?”
    “And you’re Bambi?”
    The kid’s soft voice barely made it over the music, but the sarcasm in it was thick enough to spread on toast.
    Jack offered a real smile. “I’m Jack.”
    Ricky stopped next to a bench and waved for Jack to sit. They were still in the pimp’s line of sight—and Gareth’s—so Jack straddled the bench. Just in case the man read lips. If he had instructed Ricky to stay within sight, he might be paranoid enough.
    When he’d first seen Ricky, Jack had thought that a bath, sleep, and a few square meals would do wonders for perking up the kid’s looks, but now that he could observe from up close, he felt uneasy. Ricky’s face wasn’t just spending-too-much-time-in-nightclubs pale. He was gray, and his skin shone with a thin sheen of sweat, even though now and then, he shivered.
    “You hurting?”
    “None of your business.”
    Jack backed off immediately. “Worked for the guy long?”
    “Some.”
    “Worth it?”
    “Hell, no!”
    The emphatic reply was so unexpected Jack recoiled, remembering at the last moment to mask his response and lean against the wall to hide it. And Ricky wasn’t done.
    “Why would you even consider working for a bastard like that?”
    “I need the money,” Jack said.
    “There are other ways to earn money.”
    “If I have to get groped at work, I might as well get paid for it.”
    Ricky shook his head and mumbled something under his breath that looked suspiciously