Category: Fair Trade 4: Quandary

A drawback to this apartment, one Jillian had considered a reasonable trade compared to how much she otherwise liked it, was that there were no laundry facilities in the building. That meant a short walk, only about four blocks, to the nearest laundromat. Right at the moment, however, it felt like the safest place to be—aside from with Min or Nik—was behind her own locked door, with Henry’s protective cord around it and the windows. A block or so to a quiet little curry place wasn’t so bad, but a longer walk, to sit in the relatively exposed laundromat, felt…

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Despite Min’s promise of protection, she remained apprehensive on her way to work. Brett would still be there, still be creepy, and she needed to act normally. She couldn’t let on that the collar he couldn’t see meant that the clock was ticking on his freedom to behave badly. That collar was also a pledge of protection, though. Broken toys are no fun. You’re valuable to us. Min was her friend, and on a colder note, they’d want her able to pay her debt. Flair had assured her that the fae got something precious to them out of bargaining, though…

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What the fuck am I doing? I have to do this. At this hour, Jillian probably should have chosen something else to wear. Something safer, like loose jeans and running shoes and an oversized t-shirt. Somehow, lately, the thought of going out while dressed sloppily made her wince—not that she couldn’t do it, on lazy days or period days or extremely active days, but it just didn’t feel right if she was going to be interacting with others. Invariably, since moving a month ago, she’d been wearing the new sort of underclothes, always a matched set of bra and panties…

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