Chapter one

Kurt Hummel plopped down on the nearest bench, desperate for some relief for his aching feet. He'd been pacing around the corner, his corner, for hours with very little payout, just a lot of fucking pain. Damn those heels. Every night Kurt dressed head to toe in black, a different outfit for every day of the week, today a corset, leather skinnies, and straps and buttons and zippers littering the outfit, mostly for show. His outfits changed and he mixed and matched, but he always wore thick black eyeliner and those tall ass, rickety motherfucking heels. Kurt loved looking sexy, don't get him wrong, but the boots that Kenny insisted he wore were just too much. God damn Kenny.

As far as pimps go, Kenny was among the more severe. He believed in punishment for his whores and sometimes even death for the men and women that he was done with. That scared Kurt, but he couldnt get away from Kenny if he tried.

Kenny was normally good to him, got him clean clothes, a place to sleep, and food every day, but that didn't mean that he was easygoing. Kenny would have his way in every aspect and if Kurt resisted, he had no problem painting Kurt over with a few bruises, especially if Kurt turned up light on the night's earnings. Each night he sent Kurt out to his corner and Kurt would try to entice all walks of life into paying for his love.

He shivered and rubbed up and down his bare arms, looking down the street, still no one. Fucking great. Tonight Kurt got to freeze his ass off from nine at night to five in the morning and then go home and get his ass beat by Kenny because only three cars, two uninterested, had driven by his corner all night. It wasnt like it was his fault that his regulars were all occupied tonight. Fuck.

He pushed himself off the bench and stomped up to the curb, looking around angrily for some business. His almost permanent scowl split into a wicked grin, a dark car slowly approached him and he cocked his hip to look even more alluring than he knew he naturally was. He spoke as the handsome man (Yes, he thought. He loved them sexy, they tipped fabulously) rolled down his window, “Hello gorgeous, I havent seen you around before,” Kurt licked his lips, “are you looking for some…fun?” 

The man looked nervous, young, almost like a boy and like it was his first time, he remained still and silent. “Come on baby, I promise I'll be gentle.” Kurt leaned into the window batting his eyelashes seductively, the man just nodded uneasily and responded with a gruff, “Get in.” 

Kurt smiled, finally, he could make some real cash, and slid into the seat next to his customer. 

“How much?” The stranger's nerves seemed to have calmed, but Kurt's grin remained plastered on his face.

“Ten for a handy, twenty for a blow, fifty for a fuck.” he nodded “Where do you want this to go down,  backseat or you got a hotel room…?”

He shifted in his seat some more, “The backseat's fine, but just a minute, I have a few more questions.” 

Kurt's scowl returned, “Kid, what is this, an interview?” 

The boy grinned sheepishly, “Just one more,” and his expression turned serious, “how much do you know about Kenny Martin's activities?” 

Kurts blood ran cold, "Listen, I have nothing to do with Kennys business, if you kill me hell just replace m-" 

"Woah! Slow down, I dont want to hurt you, I just want to talk." Kurt went for the door handle, if he was going to get out, he had to get out now, but the man grabbed his wrist.

"Wait," the fear currently coursing through his body turned to ice when he saw the man reach into his pocket, fuck this is how its all going to end, because of fucking Kennys dirty laundry. 

To Kurts shock, and a mixture of relief and even stronger terror, the man pulled out a badge. "My name is Detective Anderson and I can keep you safe, you just need to talk to-"

Kurts vicious laughter cut Detective Anderson off, "Keep me safe? Im perfectly fine, baby, so if you dont mind." 

Kurt smiled sweetly before rushing out of the car and taking off down the street. That was close, too close for Kurt. Kenny would just have to understand why he came home with fuck-all in his pockets. He was deciding not to push his luck and stop for a diet coke at the gas station and just haul ass home when a strong hand grabbed his wrist and forced him against the nearest car. "What the- what the fuck is going on here? Motherfucker, I will end you, I have knives-"

"Im sorry it has to be this way, but I need to question you about Kenny and you wouldnt come willingly." Kurt recognized Anderson's low, soothing voice, but Kurt was anything but soothed. 

"You cant force me to come in for questioning, thats against the law, I know my fucking rights." Kurt struggled and thrashed while Detective Anderson calmly clicked handcuffs onto his wrists.

"Im not taking you in for questioning, Im taking you in for prostitution." Kurt hung his head in fury as Detective Anderson led him back to his car, the car that once brought Kurt immense joy to see, now looked like a death sentence. 

Detective Anderson lowered Kurt into the passenger seat and then climbed into his own. They drove in silence for a few minutes before he turned his head to the right to look at Kurt.

"I just need to ask you a few questions when we get to the station and if you cooperate, youll be out in an hour." Kurt snorted and shook his head. 

"Let me break it down for you, you look a little wet behind the ears so Ill give you the slow explanation." Detective Anderson just kept that stupid smile on his face while Kurt continued. "You have royally fucked me here." He glanced at Kurt, still smiling, but looking confused."If I talk to you, when I get out, Kennyll either beat me into next week or just decide hes sick of me and dump my body in a creek somewhere. If I dont squeal, you toss me in jail." 

"If you talk to us, we can get Kenny in custody today." Kurt just shook his head and they were silent until they reached the station. Before Kurt knew it, he was standing in front of Detective Anderson's desk while he undid Kurts cuffs. He tossed them on the desk and gestured for Kurt to sit down.

“I get it you know.” Kurt looked up in question, “I get why you don't know any life but the life on the streets, but if you help us, we can get Kenny off the streets and you into a relief program and-”

“No, you don't get it. I don't need a ‘relief program.'  I'm not an addict, I'm a whore. Nothing's gonna change that. I'm fine with that life. If I could get out without Kenny finding me, I sure as shit would, but I can't so there's no use thinking about it.” Detective Anderson shook his head, an action Kurt was quickly becoming to hate. 

“We have an orgy of evidence that Mr. Martin is not only a pimp, but also killing his hookers when they've angered him, or he's just gotten tired of them.” Kurt shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “If you tell me what you've seen, we can have that final push to get Kenny prosecuted and almost certainly convicted. If you don't tell me, you'd end up in jail and possibly his next victim. We can help each other.” 

For a moment, the two stared at each other silently, each waiting for the other to speak until Kurt leaned back in his seat, eyebrow raised, staring incredulously at the detective. “Isn't this the part where you start asking me questions?” 

The detective grinned that stupid, carefree grin and stumbled quickly through his first question. “Yeah- yeah let's start!” Kurt just continued to stare, who the fuck gets that excited about questioning a hooker? “Well, what's your name?”

Kurt grinned and reached his hand out, elbow resting on the desk, “Kurt Hummel, nice to meet you.”