Like, you’re the only girl I know who loves tits.

Maybe without her, Linda would have refrained from strip clubs and titty bars. If she was moral or simply knew the language of feminist theory, she could have tried to argue against their sleaze and objectification. But in reality, Linda found it a little insulting to her, as if she needed to pay for a woman to get naked in front of her. She didn’t.

But she found herself there anyways, but only for the job, and always ready to look at what was on display while she was there.

—

Earlier, she met with Mr. Hsu again. He invited Linda to a cigar lounge, where they carefully cleaned the smoke off the lamps every night. And she had no idea if it was a good idea or not to meet the man in a lounge alone or not. He must have known her tastes and at least respected them that night. Linda took apart the hair clip and jewelry that Christine gave her, and it was nothing more than a hair clip and jewelry. She even had Arianne’s son Kendrick take a look too.

But who was to say that he was going to respect those same boundaries when alone? Maybe Christine was keeping him in check all along, but again, Linda was blinded by money. This man promised her millions if she followed through with the whole job. Mr. Hsu said it like it was mere change to him, which, looking at HsuSoft’s stocks, it very likely was.

“I have asked around about the work you do,” he said. “I know you like jobs that are…challenging. You like it when they fill you with accomplishment, perhaps when they make you feel a warm sense of self-worth and respect?”

“Yeah, and I usually have shit else to do,” said Linda. “Cut to the chase and use your most ambiguous language. You know the drill.”

“Four exotic dancers.” Hsu leaned in to whisper to her over the table, his cigar still smoldering between his tight lips and teeth stained by tea and tetracycline. “Rosie’s Saloon, Borough Five, we can arrange discreet transport is necessary.”

“Nah. I don’t go anywhere I can’t take my motorcycle to.” That, or her equally-discreet white van that Arianne also owned (on paper). “But that’s what Borough Five is. I miss that place, I’ve done some of my proudest work there.”

“You’re much easier to work with than that other woman.”

“There’s only one other,” said Linda. She sipped her sweet rye with her lips curling up in smug satisfaction. It was a sentiment she heard a lot more as time passed on, but not enough either. So much for not being on Mr. Hsu’s side or him not being on hers.

It was hard to find people who understood.

She used to think that when she went to church with her parents. Linda grew up in an area with multiple churches of the Armenian Apostolic Church. It was perhaps the only city that could boast of that, as it shone a beacon’s light towards people led far and away by tyranny and genocide. But Angel City and its county was a millions-strong megapolis. Linda never existed as a majority except in her own neighborhood in Little Yeravan.

Of course she still struggled and dug her feet into the ground when her family took her to church. She never fit in, well before she started killing and even before she first kissed a girl and her world changed entirely. The icons, always looking forward, seemed focused on Linda the most as she struggled to keep her church veil balanced on her head.

But she couldn’t help the nostalgia as she rode past the one in St. Claire. It wasn’t even a particularly Armenian city, but the real estate prices were one of the best for a bay dotted with skyscrapers.

December 27th, the feast of St. Peter and St. Paul. But the icon she found was still that of Mary and Jesus. Any festivities were long over, and the church was unlocked but dark except for a few eternally-burning candles. It was at least better without the people, without the old ladies who gave Linda’s mum dirty looks as she strolled through the park with Linda and her brother. She never knew what their issue was with her.

I don’t think I’m a god. I’m a Lucifer, but besides him, you guys loved the rebels, didn’t ya?

—

That being said, Hsu had to follow up on his promises of this job being more than an easy slaughter of four whores. Men with much less expertise did the same and often got away with it as cleanly as Linda did too.

They did it while they leered at them the same exact way.

She kept their names and faces on pieces of paper that could be burned for heat, if she had to stay the night on Borough Five’s meanest streets. The cold night also meant their bodies would freeze and be preserved like ice mummies or the contents of a forensic freezer. Both were a hard pass for Linda.

Barbara “Belladonna” Blackstone, one of the older on the roster that night. She would unlace the corset she wore without even looking behind back, and still while hoisting herself up on the pole. Linda would be more impressed with her 32E breasts if it wasn’t for her recent string of flat-chested amours.

Penelope “Officer Rock Sugar” Smith, who sacrificed her dignity to wear a costume instead on some nights. Police officer was her favorite, which made her Linda’s least favorite. It wasn’t even trauma of running into cops, because Linda was a top-tier assassin and never did, but for Arianne. Linda would always be up to the task of helping a friend hate her dad. But even though Linda was told to look for the costume, Penelope wore only a normal bra and panties that shift.

Jasmine “Arab Honey” Masry, who was reportedly a Syrian-American transsexual and the only girl on the list who wasn’t on the roster that night. She was said to still smoke outside of the building when she couldn’t pay the bouncer her stripper fees, but Linda wasn’t on the immediate lookout for her. She barely noticed as she strolled past Jasmine on the street.

Her real immediate lookout was for Scarlet Westbrook, who looked like the airheaded blonde who would get killed first in a horror movie. But then again, Linda didn’t look like a monster or a serial killer. She looked out of place in a different way in the establishment, but was she the only moral-free lesbian or beleaguered sex-positive girlfriend in Empire City? Of course not. Even being one in a million meant being one of ten.

And it was just her luck that she was descending the pole nearest to Linda, with very little lace covering her most intimate parts.

What a view. It was a shame that Linda had to waste such a gift to the world of sleaze. It was also a shame that she was gazing at a woman the same age as Arianne’s daughter. She would never imagine doing anything dirty to Addyson, no matter how cute she was and how much the law did not fucking care about 20 year olds. But if Linda’s jobs would lead her to strip clubs, it was going to be a reality of her life. As a dirtier man would say, she gets older but they stay the same.

But killing Scarlet? For all the guilt that should have came with killing someone as young as Addyson–who couldn’t even legally drink–it didn’t hurt Linda’s heart to think about.

She was just another girl.

“Another one on the rocks, fuckers!” The bartender grimaced at her before cleaning another rocks glass. It was going to be a long night until the witnesses were gone.

Scarlet had a lot of stamina and gathered some healthy tips, as far as Linda could see. She almost wanted to throw some pity dollars her way, so she could start going home with a sense of accomplishment before Linda blasted her brains across the pavement.

Linda stared without as much restraint after drinking. It was mesmerizing how a woman could move, even though she always knew that. There was something special about how they walked and how their wide hips swung, and even something to admire about the graceful gait that Linda gave up trying long ago.

And when they squatted down, what a way to descend! Scarlet took a wide stance with no fear, and if Linda didn’t know any better, that young woman was soon looking into her eyes.

“What’s this?” Linda mumbled, with a devious chuckle, not believing her sultry blue eyes for a second. “I’m not the one you’re looking for!”

“Oh, you are,” said Scarlet, in a sultry tone. “Not many women come around these parts.”

She approached Linda with one finger to stroke the underside of her jaw. Linda melted like it was her first time ever being touched by a woman. That feeling was so hard to shake off, no matter how many years passed. But what if Scarlet was just doing it for tips? Lots of strippers did that kind of thing, so the dollars could rain on their stage like it was a financial typhoon.

In fact, there were too many straight women who didn’t need a penny to kiss lips that they swore they’d never touch.

Scarlet didn’t hold back, and Linda was too drunk to pull away in time. Even if she was stunning, and would make for a hot MILF in twenty years.

“You sweet mommy, if you pay me one hundred, there’s a private room in the back,” Scarlet whispered. She managed to lower her voice even more. “I hate these men and need a goddamn break.”

“I…I’ll be damned?”

—

“Sorry about the cum stains, you know the kind of place this is,” said Scarlet, attempting to get out of her stripper heels. “Usually the lesbians who come in here are fine with me barefoot…please say I am. Those fucking things are killing me.” At a normal volume, her voice was so juvenile. As a bonafide valley girl, Linda couldn’t criticize the young women who adopted the uptalk that her peers did a generation before. But it made the scene a lot more awkward.

“I don’t get what’s going on,” said Linda. “If you want money then, whatever. All those guys are low enough to go wild over a kiss or a tit squeeze. You don’t need to try and impress me.”

“But I do! I’m so tired of performing for men, but you know, it pays the bills like nothing else,” said Scarlet. She still wasn’t facing Linda and was hugged-up against the pole. “Whatever. I always try to get out of lap dances with guys, but you’re so handsome…are you butch enough to call handsome?”

“Nah, I wear dresses sometimes. Don’t get the wrong impression about me.”

“So, just so you know a few things about me, I’m gay and I’m legal,” said Scarlet. “I came here to study music but then couldn’t pay tuition. And I’m originally from Steel City.”

“Fucking A, which one?”

“Closest to here.”

In a flash, Scarlet’s shoes were off and she was writhing in Linda’s lap, paying no mind to the dirty seat below them. It was performative until Linda felt the first hint of moistness against her thigh.

Oh god, not another young woman who wants a hot lesbian MILF. Not like Linda said no to all of them, but they needed to enjoy the pleasures of young women while it still was right to.

Shit, and in the dirtiest room on the Hudson River.

And holy fuck, she means this gay thing.

The whole dance stayed steamy, even if Scarlet broke several no touching the dancers rules and Linda helped her do it. She couldn’t even think about finding the other three. She couldn’t believe that Scarlet was the gay one, if any of them were. Usually, nothing could change how Linda could treat a target. Even if they had a family and a cute labradoodle at home, or if they landed their dream job and were about to volunteer in Haiti…they all met the same fate. But what most people didn’t know when they hired Linda was her only rule, a rule she wouldn’t break under any duress…

…no killing lesbians.

She followed Scarlet to the outside after her shift was done. It was eerie, empty, and bathed in a sallow light like much of the city was. Rain poured from the hazy, starless sky above them. The young woman covered up for the night in an embroidered silk robe before braving the cold outdoors. It looked out of place next to the skimpy bra that Scarlet took off in front of her, or against the gritty streets of Borough Five.

“Listen, I was gonna get paid to do something bad to you,” said Linda. “If…if there was a hitman following you, why would you think they wanted you?”

“That’d be crazy. I’m just a stripper,” she said.

“Did you ever meet a Frederick Hsu?”

“Who?”

“It’s not worth putting you through. You might want to look into safe homes to protect your ass, kid.”

“Uh, what the fuck are you trying to say?” Scarlet’s expression turned pissed immediately. “There’s a warrant on my life and you’re just gonna leave me in danger?”

“Look, it usually doesn’t get this personal,” said Linda, clasping her hands anxiously. She never felt so nervous when on the job, when multiple lives were at stake and their blood on her hands. “I don’t like dead lesbians. It brings back a lot of shitty memories, ya know?”

“Yeah, I know. I hope you work in witness protection.”

“Ask me after my smoke break,” said Linda, as she pulled out another cigarette.

A/N: Word Count: 2,329