Lucky settled back to enjoy the entertainment.
Chapter Seventeen
Fuck, she drove fast! The boy had a strong urge to throw up, his stomach couldn't take it. But he managed to control the feeling, because barfing all over her would not be a cool move, and tonight he was determined to make her realize he was cool - in spite of all her criticisms. He'd been away in New York for eighteen months, back for ten days, and this was the first time she'd taken any notice of him. Bitch! But he'd get her attention tonight. Oh, yeah! He'd get her attention big time.
'Where we goin' now?' he asked.
'Cruisin',' she replied vaguely. 'Lookin' for an opportunity.'
'An opportunity for what?'
'For whatever comes along, jerk,' she said, throwing him a disdainful look.
He had no clue what she was talking about. But who cared? This was good. He was with her. He'd forgotten all about his controlling father, who was more than likely pissed that he hadn't turned up for their early dinner. So what? He didn't have to do anything he didn't want to. And that included graduating high school and going on to college. His dad had never attended college, so why did he have to? His plan was to get out and enjoy himself, not be stuck in some boring classroom learning useless crap for several more years.
The girl raced the jeep towards a yellow light, trying to make it. Too late. The light turned red and she pulled up with a sharp jerk.
It occurred to him that maybe he should fasten his seatbelt. But no, she'd think he was stupid if he did that. Stupid and afraid.
'I gotta take a piss!' he mumbled, feeling the urge.
'What?' she said.
'Gotta go t' the John.'
'Jesus H,' the girl said excitedly. 'Take a look at the diamonds on that bitch in the car next to us.'
Now he knew for sure he had to take a leak immediately. There was no waiting.
'Take a look,' the girl repeated, speaking low and fast.
He leaned across her, peering into the neighbouring car. He saw a pretty black woman sitting in the passenger seat of a silver Porsche. She had on a low-cut dress, diamond necklace and sparkling earrings.
'So?' he said.
'So,' the girl said, looking around and observing they were the only two vehicles on the street. 'We're gonna take 'em.'
'Take 'em where?' he asked blankly.
'You're so fucking stupid,' she spat in disgust. 'We're gonna take her necklace and earrings an' make ourselves big bucks.'
'No way,' he scoffed, sure she was joking.
'Wanna get your dick sucked?' she said.
His eyes bugged. 'Huh?'
'You heard. 'Cause if you're chicken, I ain't doin' it.'
Jesus! She was serious. 'Sure,' he said quickly, before she changed her mind.
'Then all you gotta do is wave the gun at them, an' order the bitch to give you her stuff.'
'You're crazy,' he said, swallowing hard. 'I can't do that.'
'Okay, okay, we'll both do it,' she said. 'There's no one around, we're alone on the street. C'mon, asshole, if we don't act now we won't get another opportunity.'
He couldn't think straight. His mind was totally fogged out and he wanted to pee more than anything else. But, still, the fact that she'd offered to suck his dick…
Suddenly the girl hit the accelerator, swerving the jeep in front of the stationary Porsche, blocking it. 'Move!' she yelled, opening the door. 'Gimme the fucking gun.'
Blindly he groped for the gun stuck in his belt, and thrust it at her. She jumped out of the jeep and ran around to the passenger side of the Porsche, waving the gun in the air. He trailed behind her.
Chapter Eighteen
'Oh, sweet Jesus!' Mary Lou exclaimed. 'Lennie - look!'
He didn't have to look, he'd already seen. And before he could take any kind of action, a skinny girl with cropped dark hair had pulled open Mary Lou's door and was brandishing a gun in her face. Behind her hovered a black teenage boy who seemed to be having trouble keeping his balance.
'Gimme your fuckin' necklace!' shrieked the girl at Mary Lou. 'An' your earrings and rings. Give 'em to me now, bitch - or I'll blow your fuckin' head off!'
Jesus! Lennie could not believe this was happening to them. 'Hand her your jewellery,' he said to Mary Lou, speaking in a reasonable, calm voice, desperately trying to figure a way out.
'No!' Mary Lou said stubbornly. 'Steven gave me these things. I'm not giving them to her.'
'Take off the fuckin' jewellery, bitch!' the girl yelled. 'You don't want to do this,'
Mary Lou said, exhibiting great bravery in the face of a dangerous situation.
The boy, stationed behind the girl, didn't move. Lennie's mind was racing. He kept a gun in the glove compartment of his car, but there was no way he could reach across Mary Lou and grab it. The best thing to do was simply comply with their wishes.
The girl waving the gun was flushed and edgy. 'You'd better do it, cunt,' she said, in a low, angry voice. ' 'Cause I'm gettin' impatient.'
'For God's sake, give it to her now,' Lennie urged Mary Lou.
Reluctantly Mary Lou reached up, attempting to unclasp her necklace. Her hands were shaking so much that she couldn't quite get it undone.
In the distance, Lennie heard the sound of a police siren.
The girl heard it too, which started to freak her out. 'Gimme the fucking shit!' she shouted excitedly, reaching over, grasping Mary Lou's necklace and yanking it off her neck. The boy standing behind her still hadn't moved. 'Take it, asshole!'
the girl screamed, thrusting the necklace at him. He stuffed it in his pocket.
'Now the earrings,' the girl snarled, as the sound of the police siren grew nearer.
'No,' Mary Lou said. 'You've got my necklace. Take it and go-'
'You dumb bitch!' the girl shrieked, whacking Mary Lou across the face with her gun.
That was it for Lennie. He threw himself across Mary Lou, grappling to reach his own gun stashed in the glove compartment.
The girl saw what he was trying to do and completely lost it. 'Fuck you!' she bellowed. 'Fuck all of you!' And with that she raised her gun, took a step away and fired, hitting Mary Lou in the chest.
The explosion was so loud that the boy jumped back a couple of paces and pissed himself.
Lennie was in shock. It was like he was caught in the middle of a slow-motion nightmare. All he could think of was that at any moment he'd open his eyes and it would all be a bad dream.
But he saw Mary Lou's blood soaking the front of her gown, and he knew with a feeling of dread that this was no dream, this was the real thing.
'You've shot her,' the boy cried out in a panic. 'You've fucking shot her.'
'We've shot her,' the girl yelled back. 'An' the dumb cunt deserved it.' Then she reached forward, snatching the earrings from Mary Lou's ears and began going for her rings.
Lennie roared into action, struggling to grab the girl and stop her. Cold-bloodedly she fired again, the bullet catching him in the shoulder.
He fell back, groaning with a sudden onslaught of sharp pain.
'Let's get outta here,' yelled the girl, and the two of them began running back to the jeep.
Somehow or other Lennie managed to hoist himself up, frantically trying to catch a glimpse of their licence plate.
The numbers danced before his eyes. Then he slumped back in his seat and passed out.
Chapter Nineteen
Brigette stirred, almost awake, but not quite. She'd been dreaming - vivid sensual dreams about love and passion. She rolled over and opened her eyes with a start. The room was dark. Reaching for her bedside clock, she pressed the top button to illuminate the time. It was just before one a.m.
She tried to collect her thoughts because the last few hours were a complete blur. Dinner with Lina, Fredo and his cousin. A club or two, and after that -
nothing.
Hmm… she thought. Aren't I a bit young for short-term memory loss?
She stepped out of bed and padded into the kitchen to get a glass of water, suddenly realizing she was completely naked.
She never slept naked. Had she been drinking?
She couldn't remember.
She poured a glass of water and drank it down in several large gulps, quenching a raging thirst. Then she started going over the events of the evening one more time. She remembered the restaurant where they'd had dinner, drinking champagne, dropping by a couple of clubs. She had a vague memory of Lina and Fredo heading for the dance floor, and Carlo talking to her. After that it was all one big blank.
Oh, God! Am I losing my mind?
She gulped down another glass of water, satiating her incredible thirst. Then she went back into her bedroom, put on a robe and sat on the edge of the bed desperately trying to recall at least something.
Had she gotten sick? Drunk? What the hell had happened?
This was ridiculous. She couldn't remember a thing. Someone must have brought me home, she thought. Maybe Lina.
She wondered if Lina was home. Probably not. When Lina didn't have to work the next day she was into partying all night and sleeping until past noon the following day.
Brigette tried her number. No response. She kept trying until the service picked up. Then she left a message for Lina to call her.
She felt… different. Her breasts were tender, and when she parted her robe she discovered bruises on the insides of both her thighs.
If I didn't know better, I'd think I'd been making love, she thought. But that was impossible.
And yet… she felt as if she'd had sex.
Her mouth was so dry she needed more water. She ran back to the kitchen, panicking slightly. Something had happened and she wasn't sure what.
Fredo would know. She hurriedly dialled his number. He mumbled hello.
'This is Brigette,' she said urgently.
'I'm asleep.'
'Sorry, but I need to talk to you.'
'You and Carlo deserted us,' he said, between yawns. 'Lina is very furious.'
'I… I left with Carlo?' she questioned, her stomach sinking.
'We go dance, come back, you're both gone.' Fredo snorted his annoyance.
'Why you wake me at this time? Call Lina.'
'She's not home.'
'Maybe she found Carlo,' he said slyly. 'If you let him free, I'm sure she would've taken him into her bed.'
'Y' know, Fredo,' Brigette said irritably. 'It's not all about sex.'
'Ah, my sweet little naive one.' And he hung up.
So, Fredo seemed to think that Carlo had escorted her home. Maybe so, easy enough to find out. She buzzed downstairs to the night porter. 'What time did I get in?' she asked.
'Must've been around eleven, Miss Brigette.'
'Was I… uh… was I with someone?'
'A gentleman.'
An inward groan. 'How long was he in my apartment?'
'About an hour.'
Oh, God! Here was the deal. She must have been drunk, had sex with Carlo, and couldn't remember. Totally humiliating.
Yet how was it possible? She'd had too much to drink before and never completely blanked out.
It occurred to her, with a feeling of deep dismay, that she might have been drugged. Some of the models had been talking lately about a dangerous new pill doing the rounds. Rhohipnels - known on the street as ruffles. Apparently the pills were colourless and odourless, and guys were slipping them in girls' drinks so they could take advantage of them. One of the effects of the drug was total memory loss.
Could Carlo possibly have done this to her?
She buzzed the front desk again to find out if Lina was home. The porter informed her that, no, Lina was still out.
She didn't know what to do next. She had no proof, although maybe if she went to a doctor they could take a blood test and find out for sure if she'd been drugged.
No. The humiliation wasn't worth it.
She ran a bath, collapsed into the soapy bubbles, and lay there thinking. She was rich, pretty and successful - yet every time she ventured out and let her guard down, something happened.
I'm cursed, she thought grimly. Exactly like my mom. Her mother, the heiress Olympia Stanislopoulos, with everything to live for, had died in a seedy hotel room with her current addiction - Flash, a drugged-out rock star.
I don't want to be like my mom, she thought, shivering uncontrollably. I don't want to end up the way Olympia did.
She wanted to call Lucky in the worst way. Then she remembered that Lucky was out at an event honouring her in LA. And, anyway, every time she got into trouble she couldn't go running to her godmother.
You are not a child any more, she told herself sternly. You have to learn to deal with things.
But how could she deal with this when she wasn't even sure what had happened?
She got into bed, huddled beneath the covers, and eventually fell into a fitful sleep.
Chapter Twenty
The screaming sound of an ambulance's siren awoke Lennie with a jolt. He was about to get up and shut the bedroom window because the noise was so goddamn loud when he realized he was not in his own bed: he was in the ambulance.
Christ! was his first thought. What the hell am I doing in an ambulance?
He must've made a noise, more like a groan, because a medic appeared beside him, carefully lifted his head an inch or two and fed him a few sips of water.
'What happened?' he managed.
'You were shot,' said the medic, a cheerful-looking ginger-haired man. 'Took a bullet in the shoulder.'
'Jesus!' he mumbled, trying to get his mind around this startling fact of life.
'How?'
'Attempted car-jacking. You must've given 'em a fight.'
Car-jacked. Car-jacked. Slowly it started to come back. A girl yelling, waving a gun. Mary Lou clinging on to her necklace. A black boy standing silently in the background.
Fuck! The girl had shot him. She'd pointed a gun and shot him! It didn't seem possible.
'Where's Mary Lou?' he asked weakly, noticing a throbbing pain in his shoulder.
The medic turned away for a minute. 'She your wife?'
'No… my… sister-in-law.' He groaned, suddenly remembering. 'Oh, God, she was shot, too. How's she doing?'