Into Temptation Page #5

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I'm not really

looking for her.

No?

I don't even

have a sister.

I got five.

One baby brother.

Boy was 12 first time

he saw the inside

of a bathroom.

I told you a lie.

What you need?

Maybe Miriam can help.

I was, uh, I was hoping

we could just, um,

talk for a minute.

What? You some kinda

Eye-Team reporter gonna

put me on TV?

No, no.

They did that

once, baby.

There I was,

shaking my ass

on the evening news.

My, um, whatchacallit,

I'm a, uh,

Catholic priest.

Don't hear that everyday.

C'mon, Father,

buy me a drink.

In a nice place.

She your girl

or somethin'?

She's in trouble.

Needs help.

St. Clair might know her.

Who?

James St. Clair.

Big alpha pimp this year.

Most of the girls with him.

Do you think

he'd talk to me?

Might. Might

kill you, too.

He's moody.

Holds court

in Sundays

on Harney.

Go in there and

you ain't a brother,

you best have backup.

Right.

I'll drink one more

of these, Father.

Hi. Sorry. Can I

have another one?

Do you remember?

Vodka martini?

Yeah. Thanks.

Twelve bucks.

Okay. This

is for you.

Thank you.

You want a drink?

No.

I'm an outlaw.

What's that?

No pimp.

I'm too hard to beat up

and I ain't gonna lay down

for these motherfuckers.

When they realized

they couldn't kill me,

sh*t, they left me alone.

That's good.

And none of em'

know sh*t about money.

I gotta plan

for my future.

This line ain't got

no 401 K, Father.

I never

thought of that.

Let's go.

I've gotta go.

You do?

I've gotta go.

Yes, sorry.

You've been very

helpful, though.

Thank you, Miriam.

Motherf***er really

did just wanna talk.

Whoa.

Gimme your money!

Hey! Okay, man!

I'll cut your

f***ing dick off!

All right, all right.

Here, just relax, okay?

Hey.

What's the other

guy look like?

Um, he was ugly.

I have something for you.

What?

It's a license

plate number.

That I can work with.

How we doing?

We're late.

All right,

let's do this thing.

I was mugged.

A man hit me

the other night.

He threatened me with a knife,

he took my money, and gave me

this shiner.

He scared me so bad

I wet my pants.

I mention it because

I know others have

gone through it.

Assault. Battery.

Domestic abuse.

When you're the victim,

you don't wanna talk

about it. Why me?

I must be a bad person

for that to happen.

And then it

makes you angry.

What kind of a man

can't defend himself

walking down the street?

I don't like

these feelings.

I tried to hide them

yesterday because

I'm still ashamed.

And I'm broke.

I could use the money.

And the confidence,

I lost. And the dignity.

Me talking,

you listening.

Thanks.

Now, let us say

a prayer for the

bastard who mugged me

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