No, I didn't think of Belanger as I waited for Thierry to set me free from jail. All I could think of was how he, Thierry, the only man I loved fully and physically as an orgasmic woman, was going to make love to me all night as soon as I was in his arms and in our bed, once more.
Thierry, however, only pushed documents into my purse and into my hands as I clung to him and kissed and kissed him, rejecting all my urgings, even when I lifted a stocking leg up about his so that he could pleasure me as a woman by stroking my upper thigh.
"You have to run," Thierry told me. "Jackson is so annoyed with you and me. He thinks that you are some kind of tranny, while I'm worse, a pervert and tranny-lover."
I'd heard Jackson calling me those names and worse,, words that completed mother- and -sucker being so awful when screamed at a girl like me in my long glittering gown.
"Just love me," I'd begged the man who'd had me in his bed as his woman for over two years.
"You have to go," Thierry insisted. "Jackson's minions are all over the city. The other kill teams are after you and me. I'm to Africa and you're to England first and then, where you want. I think you should head to Australia of any part of Asia. You've identities there to use, my darling Noelle. I want you to live, so get out of here."