Hollow Dolls, The (36 page)

“Hey, your lights are on.” Mel tried to grasp what was bothering
her inside.

“I know,” he said.

The guy looked up and she saw he recognized her.

“I wanted to make sure it was you.”

It stunned her for a split second. Her intuition kicked in as the guy
pressed a snub nose into her belly and clamped a handcuff on her wrist.

“Melanie Willow, you’re under arrest for murder. Now get in.”

He waved his gun in her face, motioning her to get in the back
seat then pressed the snub nose back against her belly. Mel looked him in the
eye.

“You’re considered armed and dangerous Miss, I wouldn’t want to
have to use this but I will.  Now get in!” He pulled her cuffed hand down
toward back seat and Mel climbed in.

“Cuff yourself to the cable,” he said.

He had the gun pressed to her temple. She slipped the other cuff
on her wrist and closed it a few clicks.

“Tighter.” She squeezed the cuff down all the way securing her wrist
to the heavy cable. It was bolted to the floor. Mel looked at the metal plate
and the  bolt heads, all on top of the carpet. Obvious. A work vehicle. She’d
known something was off. What the fuck. Too slow. Mel felt like the way things
were going it almost seemed right for her to end up in jail somewhere. The man
climbed in and turned around.

“The name’s Rick Smith. We’ll be together for a while so we might
as well be civil.”

“Right. How very nice to meet you Mr. Smith. Is that even your
real name?

“It is actually.”

“How did you find me Mr. Rick? You’re the one who talked to Jennie?”

“You’re a sly one Miss Melanie. The authorities in UK had no clue.
They tossed a line to Interpol who had no clue either. I’m good though. I
tracked down your real father Walter. After that it was easy. Hell. Right now
I’m the only one who knows who or where you are Miss Melanie Willow.”

You’re not a cop so what’s going on?”

“Fugitive recovery agent. Interpol put the bounty out on you.”

“How much?”

Rick looked in the rear view at her. She could see yearning in his
eyes.

“Enough,” he said.

“I’ll double it. I can give you cash today. Right now.”

“Everyone says that. No go. You’d get caught again and end up
turning
me
in.”

“I’ll throw in this.”

“What?”

“What you keep looking at. An all-nighter Rick. Think about it.
Plus double the bounty. I’m not going to get caught by the cops. You know that.”

Rick smiled. She could see he was thinking hard as he turned the
key in the ignition. She figured he was probably getting hard too.

It was 8pm and getting near dusk. Rick said he’d have to turn her
in at the Interpol office in Spokane. They’d driven for an hour stuck in rush
hour traffic most of the way out Highway One going south, then cut off to the
secondary highway. He’d sort of counter-offered her another day of freedom for
an all-nighter. Rick had asked, “You into anal?” He was really casual about it,
like she was a hooker. Maybe that’s what he thought. Maybe that’s what she was.
She was a slave after all. Melanie leaned back on the old seat. She wanted to
cut herself open and die here on Rick’s crusty old back seat.

He found them a little trailer court motel.

“Don’t go anywhere now.” She detected a bit of a southern accent—a
long gone one. He
walked up toward the office. The trailer seemed to
shrug, embarrassed about its old siding coated in oxidized lime green paint and
its broken sign on top that said ‘CANCY’ because the ‘NO’ and ‘VA’ neon letters
just flickered and half lit up.

Mel went over his little ‘you into anal’ thing in her head.

Why not? Like, what does it matter? Sure, she loved it when men
crammed their fat hard penises into her little tight white trash ass. Or no
wait, “I’m not that kind of girl, but maybe for you Ricky baby!” Or whatever.
What did any of it matter? She was just putting in time because the world had a
plan for her from day one and nothing was going to change the plan.

Then came Winnie and the ‘why not’ mystery. Whenever Mel would
answer one of Winnie’s suggestions with ‘Why not?’ Winnie would always come
back with, ‘Moonfleet’. It was like a secret code word in a spy movie. It was
Winnie’s safe word too. Where was that word from? She wanted to know the answer
to shit like that. She wanted to fucking grow old with Winnie! If she  ended up
in prison back in England now what the fuck? How would Winnie even know where she
was? She  just wished Jack would come out from behind the car. Out of nowhere
and pound Rick. Rip that stupid cocky, half-assed southern punk voice right out
of his throat.

Rick came back. He handed her the cuff key through the window.

“Un-cuff yourself and get out.”

When Mel  climbed out Rick pressed his snub nose to her belly
again.

“You like that spot huh,” she  said. She got up close to his neck,
breathing it on him. That made him smile and she smiled back.

“Just behave and we can have a little fun before I hand you over.
Let’s go. Number 12.”

He held her around the waist as they walked and had the gun jabbed
into her side. He wasn’t gentle. The place had one main trailer for an office that
was surrounded by a courtyard of little boxes all built together with aluminum
doors on the front. They could be mousetraps. Or Rick traps. Little boxes on
the hillside. Just shoot me now Rick, please.

 “You treat me right and I’ll make you cum. Remember, I’ll be the
last man you have for a while,” said Rick.

He unlocked the door and nudged her in. The aluminum door behind them
slammed at the same time as he cracked her on the back of the head with the
butt of his gun.

“Sit,” he said.

She staggered onto the bed and was hanging on hard to consciousness
for a few minutes. Everyone liked whacking her on the head for some reason.
That’s all there was. The cheap polyester bed cover felt nice and weird. She
was in a B-movie. Sin City. Jessica Alba. Kim Li. Her head started clearing and
she focussed. Around the tiny room, laying face down she saw it was all brown
panelling with thin black stripes. A window at the front. A tiny door going to
the bathroom. Summery brook painting behind the headboard doubled in the mirror
over the dresser facing it. Rick stood next to the painting. She eyed him and
tried to smile only she couldn’t. Rick had a moustache and a heavy two day
growth on his chin. He threw cuffs on the bed as Mel started to sit up.

“Cuff yourself to the headboard.”

“Come on. You don’t need to do that. I’ll make it worth your
while,” said Mel.

He threw a fifth of bourbon onto the bed beside her. 

“Fine! Have a drink. I don’t want you drying up on me.”

She broke the duty label and screwed the top off. Took a swig.

“Another. A big one this time,” said Rick.

She knew he wanted to slow her down.

She guzzled some more and screwed the top back on.

“How about some TV?” she said.

“Fuck the TV,” said Rick.

“It helps me relax.”

Rick tossed her the controller and then started getting undressed.

Mel turned on a BC Lions game. Cranked the volume. She unbuttoned
her plaid blouse and slipped it off.

“Get the jeans off too, and don’t even think about trying
anything, I’ve had combat training.”

Mel peeled her skinny jeans down to her ankles and stepped out of
them. She was still dizzy and teetered a bit as she pulled the jeans around her
heel. Rick moved closer and slipped his hands around her waist as Mel
straightened up. He was naked and his semi-hard cock pressed against her leg.
He kissed her neck then pulled her down on the bed. Climbing over straddling
her on his knees he dangled his cock in front of her.

“Well, don’t just lay there. C’mon! Make it worth my while like
you said.”

“Sure honey.”

She grabbed his cock with her left hand and sat up. Mel licked her
lips to make them nice and wet then moved her mouth around the head.

Then out of nowhere a hard right to his balls! Mel’s specialty.

Rick doubled over groaning, and landed half on top of her. He was
a good two-twenty and she struggled to get his dead weight off of her chest. She
left him on the bed with one hand on his balls and the other grappling for her
arm. Mel bent down and scooped her clothes as she went for the door. It was
taking too long.

She fell. Hit the floor, struggling to keep her eyes open. Her
head throbbed. Something had hit her. She was being dragged back up onto the
bed by her hair. She was too dizzy to make a move while Rick cuffed her wrists
to the headboard.

“Shoulda’ known better,” he said.

Crouching by the bed still wincing from his nut shot he took a hit
of bourbon.

“Now I’m gonna have to make it hurt, you stupid bitch.”

Mel disconnected as he switched holes back and forth. Taking
turns. He rammed in and out of her with her legs up high on his shoulders.

She ’d lost.

She’d lost Jack, Kim Li, Winnie, Scott.

What was left?

Rick suddenly stopped, dropped her legs down flat then nuzzled his
face in on her neck.

“Walter?” Had she lost him too? 

Maybe prison wasn’t such a bad idea. Somewhere to be. No more
decisions.

Once Rick got himself inside again missionary style he pounded
away. Mel’s head banged against the head board as it banged in tandem against
the wall. His hands cupped her ass cheeks then he slid his index finger from
each hand into her ass and both his middle and second fingers into her vag and
pulled apart while he fucked her. She guessed that was a style thing with him. A
specialty. Something he did with all the girls. She couldn’t feel much. The
pain was minimal and she couldn’t find it. She couldn’t seem to find anything.

His two day stubble grazed against her cheek. It was on her right
cheek. Peter’s spot. It began to arouse her at first. It was Nigreda being
tickled and Melanie even felt it. The three of them were together again. As Rick
pressed his grizzly beard against her cheek Mel felt the adrenaline build
inside her heart turning it into a pounding monster. She gulped air like she’d
just been born. Nigreda was flexed and alive.  

Mel’s body sparked like a plug!

Without any warning she pulled so hard on the headboard it split,
freeing her. In one fluid motion she wrapped her cuffed wrists went around Rick’s
neck. She lifted and rolled him over until he was flat on his belly. Mel reefed
the cuff’s chains into his throat with her knee pressed into the center of his
back. She kept the chain pulled against his windpipe. He was out in thirty
seconds.  Mel slipped the cuffs out from under his chin.

Her head throbbed with so much pain it felt like her eyeballs were
going to explode.

She saw the lamp he’d thrown at her over by the door. It was huge
and ugly. She felt her head and checked her hand. Blood. A fair bit. She cuffed
his hands behind his back and took a long drink of bourbon.

“To the south,” she said.

She  wanted to cut him and drain his blood. See all of it gush out
onto the cheap carpeted floor. It would be too messy. Too personal. He wasn’t
worth it. She stuffed his underwear into his mouth good and tight and held his
nose with her knee buried into his gut.

Rick came to realizing his hands were cuffed behind his back. She was
smothering him. He screamed into his underwear as best he could while she
watched his eyes get angry for a few seconds. Then as he realized he couldn’t move,
the inevitability sunk in that he was going to die. Then came the pleading and
begging in his eyes. He was full of fear with a little boy look.

He looked like a big ugly chipmunk. It made her cackle a little like
a cracked out crow.

“I’ll say it for you Rick. Oh, please let me go! I didn’t mean
it.”

That made him really struggle and kick his legs. She could squat
over him and pee on his face with the rag in his mouth. Waterboarding.

“You should have taken my offer. Here’s the new deal. I’m going to
smother you to death now Rick.”

His body lurched violently a few last times. His eyes had nearly popped
out of the sockets. She took another long pull on the bourbon. Pulled the damp
undies out of his mouth and dropped them all wrinkled on his belly then jammed the
neck of the bottle down into his throat.

“Don’t want you drying up on me,” she said.

Mel watched as the last of the bottle gurgled down into his
stomach.

“Thirsty boy.” Her voice rattled with adrenaline.

She looked at the headboard she’d ripped open. It was crappy old
particle board that had probably had absorbed ten times its weight in cum and
sweat over the years. Thank God for cheap crap furniture.