Authors: Ashley Bartlett
Tags: #Fiction, #Lesbian, #Mystery & Detective, #General, #Romance, #Contemporary
years. Everyone was up there, from Wayne Newton to Harrison Ford.
What the hell were they doing in a dive like this? Or maybe this shop
wasn’t always located here.
When he made a noise of approval, I returned my attention to
him. He ran his fingers over the numbers engraved on the top of the bar.
Then he typed something into the ancient computer on the counter and
told me the amount. Holy shit.
“So you’ll buy it then?” I was playing cool.
“Yes, of course. It is quite beautiful,” he mused. “Is it not?” We
both gazed at the gleaming surface that seemed to emit light rather than
reflect it.
“Very.”
He nodded, satisfied that I appreciated the bar. “I will get your
money.”
“Thank you.”
• 142 •
Dirty Sex
Ten minutes later, I was back on the sidewalk. The backpack was
much fuller and much lighter. Up ahead, I could see the side of Reese’s
car. As I started going toward it, a guy turned the corner and started
walking in my direction. He looked older than me, maybe forty, so I
ignored him. He wasn’t exactly young thug material. When he didn’t
move to one side for me to walk by, I got worried. I knew I was just
paranoid though so I kept going. When I started to pass him, he grabbed
my arm and dragged me into one of the alcoves.
“What the fuck?” I shrugged his hand off my arm. “Get the hell off
me.” I pushed him aside and walked into a wall of flesh. Shit.
“What’s in the bag?” the guy behind me asked.
“Nothing. Let me go.” The backpack was jerked down my arms
and the wall of flesh laughed. He grabbed the front of my sweatshirt and
pulled me up close to his face. The stench of old cigars and peppermint
invaded my nostrils. The guy behind me unzipped the backpack.
“That’s a lot of cash, kid,” he said. “Take a look at that, Vic.”
The grip on my sweatshirt was eased enough for Vic to lean
forward and look in the bag.
“Where’d you get the money, kiddo?”
“Your mom.” Why did I say that?
“What?” Vic yanked up so I was inches from his fat face.
“Your mom.” Might as well roll with it. “She likes the way I lick
her pu—”
I was thrown into the wall next to me. I tried to put my hands up in
time to catch myself. It didn’t work. Vic came up behind me and pushed
my face into the rough cement. Then he pulled my head back by my
hair, scraping my face against the wall.
“He thinks he’s funny, Gino.”
“I’m a girl, douche bag.” It came out before I could stop it.
Vic let go of me. I stepped away from the wall. There was nowhere
to go. Where the fuck was Reese with her PPKs now?
“You get that, Gino?” Vic grinned, an unnatural twist of flesh and
too white teeth. “It’s a girl.” My stomach turned. I was an idiot.
“Are you done with the obvious? I gotta go.” I tried to grab
the backpack and push past them. The shorter one backhanded me. I
stumbled back, tasting blood.
“Here’s how this is going to work. We ask questions, you answer
them. Got it?” I didn’t answer fast enough. He slapped me again. “You
got it?”
• 143 •
AShley BArtlett
“Whatever.” I wasn’t telling them shit. My mouth started to slowly
fill with blood.
“Where’d you get the cash?” Vic asked.
I hawked some blood and spit onto his loafers. “I told you. Your
mom.” This time he just punched me in the stomach. I doubled over and
yelled obscenities at the pavement. He grabbed my sweatshirt again
and made me stand up straight.
“New question. Where are those bastard kids?”
Shit. “I don’t have any kids.” I played dumb. Vic didn’t buy it. He
did punch me in the stomach again though.
“Where are the goddamn twins?” He tossed me back into the wall.
My head smacked into the cement making it throb.
“Where’s Ryan?” Gino stepped up to the plate when I didn’t
answer. Vic must have been tired. Beating up girls is hard.
“I don’t know anyone named Ryan.” Gino punched me in the ribs
this time. I spit some more blood at him. He grabbed me by the hair and
pushed my face back into the wall. His body pressed into mine, pinning
me. I tried not to hyperventilate.
“How about pretty little Reese?” he murmured in my ear. The rasp
of his voice when he said her name made me want to kill him.
“Bitch, I’m gonna drop you like a bad habit.” I struggled to push
him off. I was going to knock him out. I could do it.
They laughed. “Come on, kid. You’re driving her car. We know
she’s with you,” Vic said.
“I’m right here, you stupid fuck,” came Reese’s voice from behind
us. I couldn’t see anything, but Gino moved away from me. “That’s
right. Get the fuck off of her.”
Finally free, I turned and looked at Reese. She had a handgun
trained on each of them.
“Get over here, babe.”
I didn’t need to be told twice.
“We’ve been looking for you, Reese.” Vic stepped toward her and
started reaching into his jacket.
“Get up against the wall. Hands where I can see them.” Gino
laughed at her instructions. “Do I look like I’m fucking around?”
Neither answered, but they both turned and put their hands on the
wall.
• 144 •
Dirty Sex
“Search them,” she instructed me. “I want guns, cell phones, and
car keys.”
“I’m not touching them.” Fighting some nineteen-year-old punk
with my friends to back me up was way different from those fuckers
kicking the crap out of me.
“Do it.” One look into those cool gray eyes and I jumped to feel
up Gino and Vic. They let me, but it was more like bored indulgence
than fear.
“Come on, honey. Drop the act,” Vic said. I patted him down. He
was packing a massive handgun. I put that on the pavement. Lucky for
me, their car keys were in his jacket pocket. I really didn’t want to reach
into his pants pocket. That would just be disgusting. When I dropped
his cell phone next to his gun, Reese demolished it with a quick stomp
and twist of her heel.
I moved on to Gino. The piece he was carrying joined Vic’s, along
with a knife, a scary serrated number.
“Stop this shit,” Gino advised after Reese killed his cell phone
too. “Just come with us. You won’t be in any trouble.” He sounded like
he was consoling an unruly toddler.
“Sure, why not?” She was being sarcastic. Vic believed her though.
“Good girl.” He spun to face her.
Reese pistol-whipped him. His head flung to the side. “Did I say
you could turn around?” He cupped his face in response. A trickle of
blood seeped between his fingers. “No, you dumb fuck. Now, face the
wall.”
“All right, kiddo, you made your point.” Vic did as he was told.
Warily, he glanced over his shoulder at her.
Reese handed me one of the guns and pointed at Gino. I directed it
at his head. She picked up the knife and stepped closer to Vic.
“I haven’t come close to making my point.” Her tone was scarier
than the gun cradled in her hand. She flicked the knife open. The gun
went to the back of Vic’s neck, forcing him to press his face into the
wall. The knife went between his legs much higher than he wanted it.
“Do you understand me?”
“Yes.” His voice was strained.
“Where’s your car?”
“On the street.” Reese inched the knife higher. “Behind you. The
blue Cadillac,” he rushed to clarify.
• 145 •
AShley BArtlett
“Good. Now walk over there,” Reese said. “And move carefully.
Wouldn’t want to lose anything.” Vic did as he was told. Each footstep
was stilted.
“You too,” I said to Gino. He didn’t move. “Move your ass.” He
shuffled with his head down. Probably just happy there wasn’t a knife
to his balls.
“Open the trunk, babe.” Reese had her hands rather full.
I squinted in the dim light at the piece of plastic until I figured out
which button did what I wanted. The trunk popped open.
“Get in,” Reese said. I laughed.
“We’ll never fit in there.” Vic’s attempt to sway her was useless.
“Sure you will. You’ll just have to spoon,” I said.
Vic almost looked relieved when the knife was removed from his
genitals so he could get in. Almost.
“Not you.” Reese stopped Gino before he climbed in. “How did
you find us?”
“It wasn’t hard.” He shrugged. Not smart.
“How did you find us?” she asked again.
“We looked.”
Reese was livid, but in a cool, deadly sort of way. She traced the
tip of the knife down Gino’s cheek. He sucked in a mouthful of air and
held it. The knife caressed his throat to his collarbone. Reese smiled.
She twisted her wrist so the blade was at the neck of his shirt. Slowly,
very slowly, she slit his shirt open.
“You want to talk?”
He didn’t move, didn’t breathe. I think he finally got that she was
serious.
Reese started tracing down his chest again. This time pressing
hard enough that the blade made a scraping noise on his skin. Every
few inches she dug a little deeper so a bead of blood would emerge
from his chest. It was freaky. I would have thought her cruel except
for the eyes. This was killing her. She wasn’t going to last long. As she
approached the waistband of his slacks, he started to grind his teeth.
“You want to tell us now?” I asked Gino. Reese seemed relieved
to have me take over.
Gino glanced up from the knife on his beer belly. His entire face
had gone slack.
“How did you find us?” Reese asked.
• 146 •
Dirty Sex
“We got a tip,” Gino gasped. “A pit boss at one of the casinos on
the Strip. Don’t know who. This guy told one of our contacts. I don’t
know anything else.”
“Thank you. Now get in the trunk.”
Reluctantly, Gino climbed in with his buddy. Reese slammed the
trunk shut on their surprised faces. Methodically, she picked up the
guns, wiped off any fingerprints with the bottom on her T-shirt, and
tossed them into the front seat. She repeated the process with the knife.
She took the keys from me and tossed them in a nearby trashcan.
“Are you okay?” Her hand trembled when I brushed my fingertips
over it.
Reese nodded curtly. “Are you?”
“Yeah. Just a little beat up.”
“All right. Good.” She was fighting to keep her composure. I
could tell.
• 147 •
• 148 •
Dirty Sex
At the hotel, I shed my clothes, grabbed clean ones, and went
into the bathroom. I checked out my face in the mirror. One
side was covered in scratches from the small peaks of cement. I was
glad Reese held a knife to that dude’s junk.
My shirt was a bitch to get off because my shoulders and ribs
were hurting pretty bad. Other than that, I was fine. It was Reese I was
worried about. She hadn’t looked at me or talked to me the whole way
back.
The steam and hot water felt damn good. As soon as I was under
the spray, the tension in my back eased up a bit. My face stung a little,
but if that was the worst of my problems then I was doing pretty well.
As I walked out of the bathroom in my boxer briefs and T-shirt, I
looked around for Reese. She wasn’t there. Not in her room either.
“Reese?” I tried not to panic.
“I’m right here,” came her voice from the couch.
“Hey.” I crossed the room in a few long strides to kneel in front
of her.
She slowly sat up. Dark hair fell forward covering her face. I
reached up and carefully brushed it back. There were tear tracks on her
cheeks.
“Are you okay?” I asked softly.
She didn’t seem to hear me. “I wanted to hurt them.” Another tear
fell. “When I saw that guy pushing you into the wall, I wanted to kill
him.”
“I wanted to kill Christopher when this happened.” I brushed my
thumb over the fading mark beneath her eye.
• 149 •
AShley BArtlett
“Why?”
“I don’t like seeing you hurt.” I’d thought that was obvious.
“But you hate me,” Reese said. Seemingly unaware, she slid her
hands over mine. Her fingers drew patterns on my palms and wrists.
My hands started to tremble.
“I’ve tried that, but I’m no good at follow through.” My attempt at
humor was lost when my voice shook.
“I don’t hate you either.” She wouldn’t look at me.
“Good, I was real worried.” I tilted her chin up so I could see her
eyes.
“Shut up,” she said when she saw that I was teasing her. We
grinned at each other like idiots. “Does it hurt?” Her warm fingers
traced over the scratches on my face. My spine started to tingle, the
sensation rolling languidly down my back and into my limbs.
“Not really.” I couldn’t even feel the pain anymore. The more she
touched me, the less I felt anything except really good.
“Take off your shirt so I can see.”
I let go of her hands. “I don’t think I should.” Normally, taking off
my shirt wouldn’t have been a problem. Reese had bandaged me up a
million times.
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t be objective anymore.” Either one of us naked
equated to one thing for me now.