Sex and Violence in Hollywood (28 page)

“Do I look like the kinda guy’d hand a loaded gun to a fuckin’ monkey with rabies?” Diz asked. He laughed some more, but watched Adam, waiting for an answer.

Adam said, “I’m sorry, but...I-I’m not sure how to respond to that.”

Diz stood and nodded at a camera high in the corner. “Lesstep outside, take a walk around the ranch. I don’t like bein’ on that sick fuck’s tapes, y’know what I mean?”

Adam knew.

Mr. C. came into the kitchen, took a handful of potato chips from the bar.

As the others stood, Diz turned toward the kitchen and called, “Hey, Billy-boy-blue, we takin’ a walk. You hold the fort.”

“Where the fuck’re you goin’?” Mr. C. asked around a mouthful of chips.

“We’re gonna go sacrifice a live baby in the sunlight, then jerk each other off with bloody hands,” Diz said.

Mr. C. grunted.

Diz led them out the back door into the dry, hot desert air. The hill rose abruptly before them, humped with shrubs. They started up at a slow pace.

Everything was taking longer than Adam had anticipated. If all had gone the way he had hoped, they would be on their way home by now. Even walking around outside was eating up way too much time. A feeling of urgency clutched him, and it had nothing to do with his bladder.

“No cameras back here,” Diz said.

The ground crunched beneath their feet as they went slowly up the hill.

“Did Billy-boy tell you I sell explosives?” Diz asked.

“Oh, no,” Adam said. “But we got that impression.”

“You here by mistake, Adam? Zat the problem?”

“Only if you won’t sell us the explosives.”

He laughed again.

“Look,” Adam went on, “it’s not Billy’s fault. He specifically said you don’t sell explosives. It’s just that—” He lowered his voice.”—he didn’t say that until we were on our way here. But now we’re here, and I’m just hoping you’ll—”

“You don’t want anybody else involved, do ya?”

“No.”

“And you don’t want me to know what you’re gonna do with them explosives, do ya?”

Adam shook his head.

“And you two are gonna do this mysterious thing, whatever the fuck it is, you guys are gonna do it yourselves?”

“Something like that,” Adam said.

“What kind you want?”

“What kind of what?” Carter said.

“Explosives. What kind of explosives?”

Adam turned to Carter, who gave him a withering look, and said, “Like I’d know?”

“Of the two of you,” Diz said, “which one has the most experience with explosives?”

Once again, Adam looked at Carter, who shrugged and said, “You’re looking at me again, I don’t understand this. Closest I’ve ever come to explosives is firecrackers.”

“I haven’t had much, um...experience,” Adam said, realizing how ludicrous he sounded. “I always hated firecrackers. Just too damned loud.”

Diz chuckled. “Like I axed before, do I look like the kinda guy’d hand a loaded gun to a monkey with rabies? How fuckin’ dumb do I look?” He remained relaxed and jovial, but his face looked ready to kill and enjoy it. “Know what happens I do that, Adam? Send you on your merry fuckin’ way with some goodies? You fuck up and vaporize yourselves, maybe a buncha other people.” He laughed his seal-like laugh between sentences, shaking his head. As if someone had told a great joke. “But then, see, the fuckin’ cops get involved. They don’t care about you guys, you’re floatin’ around in the air with the pollen, if there’s that much of ya left.” He stopped walking and turned to them. “But they wanna know where the fuck you got the goodies. And maybe, somehow, they work their way back here. Next thing you know, we got federal stormtroopers, fuckin’ psychopaths employed by Uncle Sam, we got ’em up our asses, and the bullets and grenades are flyin’.”

Adam and Carter exchanged a glance as Diz absently kicked a few rocks.

“Now when all that shit happens?” Diz said. “That’s bad, Adam. People die when the feds get involved. People get maimed and crippled. And otherwise fucked up? Tell ya th’truth, I can’t afford any a that shit, man. That’s why I don’t do it. Now, I got nothin’ against you guys, but if you think I’m gonna sell you shit that blows up—” He laughed again, getting a big kick out of the idea,”—then you gotta gimme the recipe for your brownies, man.” Kept laughing as he continued slowly up the hill.

“Okay, I get it,” Adam said as he and Carter followed. “You’re not gonna sell us anything.”

“Yo, Adam, don’t take that personally, ’kay? I’m laughin’ ’cause thass just fuckin’ funny, man, the idea doin’ somethin’ like that in my line a work, shit, man, thass like askin’ a lawyer to work for truth and justice ’steada for fuckin’ money, you dig?”

Adam sighed. “Then we should go, Carter. We shouldn’t waste anymore of Diz’s—”

“Hey, slow down, Adam.” Diz put a twisted palm on Adam’s shoulder. “Whattaya doin’, anyway?” More laughter. That Seaworldesque Yorp! Yorp! Yorp! “Where ya gonna go to get what I won’t sell ya? Walmart? Huh? Look, Adam m’man, you got somethin’ needs blowin’ up, and I blow up things for a livin’. Hell, we’re so made for each other, man, we oughtta haul ass to Vegas and tie the fuckin’ knot!” Yorp! Yorp!

Adam shook his head. “I’m sorry, Diz, but...I just don’t feel comfortable with this. I don’t know you, I’ve never—”

Diz stopped again, put an arm across Adam’s shoulders. A mostly-smoked Camel dangled from his lips. The hole spouted smoke when he talked. “You think I’m gonna run to the cops and tell ’em about your shit? Whaddaya think this is, a fuckin’ sting operation to catch you in the act of tryin’ to blow up your parents? Don’t fuckin’ flatter yourself, m’man.”

Adam stopped breathing. Turned to Diz, face open with shock.

Diz smirked, shrugged. “An educated guess, is all.” He removed his arm from Adam’s shoulder, fished another cigarette from his pocket, and lit it with the butt of the other. Licked thumb and forefinger, pinched the butt out, and dropped it to the ground, buried it with the toe of his shoe. “Adam, you gotta understand me, this is a business. You understand that much, right?”

Adam nodded.

“But it’s a sensitive business. That’s why we protect our clients. Whether they want somethin’ blown up, or some kid to blow ’em off. Why we don’t ask no serious questions. Most of our regular clients appreciate that and have enough good fuckin’ sense to do the same in return. That’s how a sensitive business like this works. Even though we may not trust each other, we fuckin’ have to, otherwise there’s nothin’ to do but stand around starin’ at each other, and no business gets done. Nobody wants to hand you over to the cops, Adam, ’kay? Think you can get that shit outta your head? This is what I do for a fuckin’ livin’, ’kay, man? Been doin’ this shit since I was eight.”

“Where do you learn about explosives when you’re eight?” Adam asked.

“From Pop. Taught me everything he knows and I took it from there. That’s what he used to do. Till he retired and went into the porn biz. The fuckin’ perv.”

They started walking again. The hot ground warmed Adam’s feet through his sneakers. Small creatures scattered ahead of them into the shrubs and rocks.

Adam said, “You took over your dad’s business? So you worked with him, right?”

“If you like sayin’ it that way, fine,” Diz said. “I was fuckin’ employed, all I knew.”

“What was that like?” Adam asked, almost whispering. “I mean, did it make you two any closer, working together? Did you get to know your dad better?”

That got a few loud, full yorps from Diz. “Fuck no, man. My dad’s a prick of the lowest order. The kinda prick who disgusts all the other fuckin’ pricks.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling,” Adam said.

“Your dad a prick?” Diz asked.

“Yep. And he’s close friends with all the other fuckin’ pricks.”

Diz laughed again. Turned to Adam and raised his right hand, palm out.

Adam stared, confused, at the chunk of meat at the end of Diz’s arm. Then he realized Diz was waiting for Adam to give him a high-five. Adam swallowed his disgust and slapped the small, misshapen palm.

“Okay, Adam, tell me. What kinda boat?”

Adam did not hesitate this time. “A yacht docked in Marina del Rey.”

Diz nodded slowly and smiled. “Okay, now we gettin’ somefuckinwhere.”

TWENTY-SIX

"I wonder who
they’re looking for?” Alyssa said, watching a helicopter in the sky.

Adam thought, I wonder if they’ll ever look for me that way. He stamped the thought out like a dropped cigarette.

Parked off Mulholland, they sat in the backseat of Adam’s convertible. It was a few minutes after two o’clock in the morning and they had made love there twice. And once in the kitchen at Alyssa’s house when Adam picked her up.

He had been unable to sleep, but could not stop thinking about Alyssa. He’d called her, but talking was not enough, so he’d picked her up.

Alyssa was naked in the backseat, skin glowing like sea foam in moonlight, long Daffy Duck nightshirt tossed over the back of the front seat. She leaned on him, and he leaned on her, pants down around his ankles, shirtless. Their faces were close as they stroked each other’s skin. Eyelids heavy, lips puffy and red from kissing.

The helicopter flew over the blanket of lights below and wielded its sword of light against the city. Searching for someone, something.

“Will they look for us like that?” Alyssa whispered.

“Will who look for us?”

“The police.”

Alyssa had brought along a few Heinekens from the refrigerator and Adam was drinking one when she said it. Some of it came back out through his nose.

“You okay?” she asked, patting his back as he coughed.

“Fine.” He kept forgetting about her fantasy killing spree. At first, he had thought she was talking about his plans to kill his dad. But she couldn’t possibly know about that, not yet. “Yeah, they’ll probably look for us like that.”

She put a leg over both of his, her fingers combed his pubic hair.

“But by then,” he went on, “we’ll be gone. On our way to the next state. And the next. And the next one after that.”

Alyssa moved closer, played with his nipple as she sucked on his neck.

“We’ll always be at least one step ahead of them,” he whispered. “Right from the beginning.”

“Will we get married in Vegas?” Her words burned on Adam’s neck, then she lifted her head, looked directly into his eyes.

Adam’s heartbeat sped up. He was afraid he had misunderstood her. Perhaps she was just joking. “Are you serious?”

She nodded her head, grinned. Sighed as she took his penis in hand and squeezed. He was hard instantly. “It’s two-something in the morning.” Her voice was husky and hoarse as she straddled him on her knees, skipped the slow stuff and started riding him hard. “And we’re fucking in your convertible,” she said, teeth clenched. “You think I do this shit with everybody?”

They came fast and loud. Alyssa stayed on his lap afterward, Adam still inside her. They fondled and kissed and whispered.

Alyssa whispered, “I think I’m in love with you.”

Adam pulled back a few inches and looked at her. He was surprised and moved. “You think? When will you know?”

She laughed. “If I think I’m in love with you then I must be, right?”

He kissed her. “I was trying to sleep tonight, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I wondered if I was misreading anything, you know? But I guess I wasn’t. I feel the same way. I mean, I’m in love with you.”

She touched her forehead to his, placed a hand to his cheek and kissed him a few times. He could hear the smile in her voice when she whispered into his ear, “My Adam. You belong to me now.”

TWENTY-SEVEN

"You haven’t eaten
, have you?” Diz asked.

“No, I’m not hungry,’ Adam said.

“You gotta have Doughboy’s specialty. The Five Alarm Omelette. Killer shit.”

“No, thank you, I don’t need a five-alarm anything right now.”

“But I already ordered for ya, man.” Diz lit a cigarette.

Adam sighed, closed his weary eyes. “Okay, okay.”

“Yo, Adam, you all right?” Diz’s eyebrows probably would have frowned if they were not frozen in place. “You look fucked up, bro.”

“Just a little tense,” Adam said. “I thought we were meeting someplace anonymous. Someplace with a lot of people so no one would notice us.”

“This is better,” Diz said. “Everybody here? Fuckin’ family I’d die for any motherfuckin’ one of ’em, and they’d do the same for me. That’s why we’re here, ’stead-uh someplace where everybody’s a fuckin’ stranger and you gotta watch yer back alla time.”

“Hi, Adam,” Billy said. He had been sitting at the table all along, virtually invisible with his nose buried in a Lady Death comic book.

“Hi, Billy”

“Where’s Carter?

Adam said, “I guess I forgot to pick him up.”