The Cheat Pt 1- The Infidel

A Story by Paul Hunter

Nick needs his fix.

The Cheat

Part 1:

The Infidel

Nick bent down and grabbed the empty 40 oz. bottle resting at his feet. He lifted it up to take a swig and noticed a pile of ashes floating at the top. He shrugged and down the rest of the piss colored liquor anyway. He might as well get as much in as he could. Payday wouldn’t be for another three days and that was the rent check. He’d barely have enough for tobacco.

There was a pile of old cigarette butts sitting on the coffee table. He emptied them out and started rolling himself a cigarette. There was nothing on TV, nothing to do. He used to be content to sit in his groove on the couch with his weed pipe and some beer. Then the high started to dull, and the beer didn’t hit right at the back of his throat the way it was supposed to. It just left him feeling bland and anxious.

Nick had been working all day to get up the nerve to go online. The computer chair sat a few feet from the desk, turned towards him like a woman telling him to come over. He just had to reach out and touch her. It wasn’t very hard.

He knew this one site, real fine women, young and sexy. They’d do anything you asked them to for a nickel. Nick spent his time watching, looking at all their pictures and paying for their movies. He could have those girls. It wasn’t just a movie. It was one step closer to real life, and that was a thrill all its own. He could call them and meet them, and do whatever he wanted to them.

The thrill of watching had worn off now. It didn’t do anything for him. He needed sweet, wet flesh, good old sex, and he needed it bad. He got up and sat down at the computer. There was one girl. She was small, with a school-girl charm, and cheeks that just puff right up to go along with her perfect smile. What he loved the most was the hair. It was bright red, set against white skin. He’d spent plenty of afternoons wondering what it’d be like to have her.

He pulled his phone out to call her and rummaged his way through old takeout boxes and liquor bottles to get into the bathroom.

“Hey,” her voice was like smoke and honey.

“Hey.” Nick ran a finger through his greasy gray hair and tried to tease it into something reasonable.

“Whatcha doin?”

“Sitting here, thinking about you.”

“Yeah?” She was good. “You wanna come see me?”

“F**k yeah,” he tore off his stained old wife beater and threw around his pile of clothes to get the one clean black shirt at the bottom.

“I’m up at Motel Inn, on the 9. Just ask for Minnie.”

“You got it.” He hung up, checked the mirror and decided it didn’t much matter how he looked. He wasn’t taking the girl out for dinner. He was paying her direct.

He climbed into his VW Beetle, opened the glove compartment and sucked up the remains of a bottle of JD. Then he got the car started and threw the bottle out as soon as he hit the highway.