Tempest smiled, thinking how easy it was to distract Stan from one of his relentless diatribes about how she should move in with him, or they should get married, or one of a hundred other “shoulds” he had on a mental list. She loved him, just not the way he wanted.
They finally reached Tempest’s apartment building, a thirty-minute crawl due to the unrelenting snow.
The only other traffic they’d passed had been snowplows and a few city buses.
She leaned over and kissed Stan’s cheek. “I really do appreciate you. I hope I’m half as good a friend to you as you are to me. I don’t know what I’d do withoutyou, or Little Stan for that matter. You’re a great drummer and a great friend
He grabbed her hair as she reached for the door handle.“Yeah. You’re justblowin ’ smoke up my ass
’cause you don’twanna talk about anything important. I’m not as dense as you think I am, but that’s okay. I’m too tired to fight with you about your screwed-up ideas about men. Hey, shit!” He swiveled his head around, checking out the small back seat and the floor around Tempest’s feet. “Where’s your ax?
Don’t tell me you left your guitar at that hotel?”
“No. I didn’t leave it at the damn hotel, if it’s any of your business. I left it in pretty boy’s car.”
Stan brought his face within inches of Tempest’s. “You’re jerkin’ me! You left your pride and joy in the a**hole’s Jag? What the hell’s the matter with you? Did he really f**k your brains out?”
Tempest swiveled, kicked the door open with her foot, and slid down into the deep snow. A blast of frigid air on her ass told her that the bottom of her jacket was caught on the edge of the seat, exposing her lower body to the elements. It was lucky the visibility sucked, because otherwise the driver of the snowplow that just passed would’ve gotten onehelluva show. She tugged on the bottom of her coat and stomped a foot, which caused her to lose her balance on some hidden ice. Grabbing the truck door, she screamed in frustration. Stan had hit the nail on the head. Damn it. She hated that he knew her so well, and that he knew just how to piss her off.
“Hey! Don’t f**k with me, Stan.” She kicked at the snow. “Yeah, he did. He f**ked my brains out. He had the biggest c*ck I ever sucked, and he could make it dance and do tricks I’ve never seen before. He could license it as a tour bus and rent it out for groups. Is that what you want to hear? I was so horny that I didn’t even think about my guitar. I couldn’t think about anything but his huge cock. His balls…”
The expression on Stan’s stricken face was a mixture of rage, horror and grief, and the sight of it made Tempest bite off the rest of the hateful words waiting to spew out.
She felt as if she’d just kicked her favorite puppy, or she’d thrown that puppy into the path of a reeking garbage truck.
Damn her out-of-control temper. Would she ever stop attacking the few people who actually loved her?
The skin on her ass went numb and prickled with a needle-like sensation. All she needed was to end up with frostbite on her butt. She sighed and gazed up at Stan’s exhausted, disappointed face.
Her teeth started to chatter. “I’m sorry, Stan. I don’t have any right to say those things to you. I’m an a**hole and just wanted to hurt you because you told the truth. You know that I can only hear the truth if it’s the version I like. I’m an emotional toddler with no self-control. Please forgive me. I’m worried about my guitar and not sure how to get it back. It’ll kill me if I lose it, and I feel like the stupidest woman on Earth.” She paused and watched for signs that her bad behavior would be swept under his mental carpet one more time. Seeing the corners of his mouth quirk ever so slightly, she knew his big heart had triumphed over his righteous anger. Luckily, he was an understanding person most of the time.
“Thanks again for coming to get me. That was above and beyond. I’ll sleep this shitty mood off and call you later. Maybe you can help me brainstorm how to get my guitar back. I’m really sorry, Stan. Please drive carefully. Turn the radio on so you stay awake.” Stan could sleep anywhere, even while driving, unfortunately.
Not making eye contact, he mumbled, “Er, yeah, well, okay. I’ll talk to you later.”
Tempest slammed the door and hustled under the overhang in front of her apartment building, watching the truck roll out onto the road. She followed the taillights with her eyes until the snow completely swallowed them up, then she went into the building. The familiar smells in the hallway seemed especially potent and vaguely nauseating. The ever-present curry scent wafting from the Indian couples’ apartment usually made Tempest’s mouth water, but now it turned her stomach. The idiots growing pot in the basement hadn’t learned anything from their last bust. The smell of the huge plants still permeated the lower level of the building, not to mention the easily identifiable aroma of burning joints. She’d stayed out screwing around all night lots of times. Why did she feel so strange this morning? Her hands were shaking and her knees felt unreliable.
She trudged up the stairs to the second floor, hoping her roommate Lauren had finished her post-Hawaiian-vacation homecoming sex hours ago, and was snoozing in her bedroom. With any luck, Lauren wouldn’t have invited half the airplane over for a party. Tempest didn’t feel like explaining her crappy night to anyone else yet.
A hot shower and her flannel nightgown called to her as she turned the corner of the hallway leading to her apartment. She was so caught up in the cozy fantasy that she didn’t notice the mountain of a man standing in front of her door until she practically stumbled into him.
Startled, she stopped, her eyes scanning the frame of the hulking strangerwho stood more than a foot taller than she did. Damn it. This guy didn’t look like Lauren’s usual type, but her roommate had the “any port in a storm” philosophy about men, and Tempest never knew who she’d find in her shower. She was too tired for this shit.
The man wore a cheap-looking black suit with an eye-watering, piss-yellow shirt and a black tie with multicolored cars on it. A pair of lace-up boots with fur around the tops completed his discount-store ensemble. Greasy black hair was combed straight back from his forehead, making him look like an engorged Elvis impersonator. He’d definitely gone overboard on the musky aftershave. He stood with his feet a few inches apart, his hands clasped together like a military guy, and didn’t make eye contact. She couldn’t tell if his bulk was caused by muscles or lard.
“Hey, Huge Guy!What are you doing in front of my door? Did Lauren invite you?”
The mountain didn’t move. “The boss wants to talk to you. Let’s go. The car’s downstairs.” He had a low-pitched, raspy voice, with an East Coast accent. Except for those few words, he hadn’t acknowledged her presence in any way. He hadn’t even shown interest in the fact that she wore nothing but boots and a baggy leather coat.
“You’re nuts. Get out of my way.” Tempest made a futile attempt to shove past the man, and he suddenly grasped her arm in his baseball-mitt-sized hand and started pulling her farther along the hallway, heading for the back stairs. The grip on her arm hurt. She could feel each beefy finger pressing into her skin, even through the leather of her coat. No question; definitely muscles.
She tried to dig her heels into the threadbare carpet without success. The guy could really move. “Hey!
Let go of me! Hold it! Who thef**k are you? What boss? You’ve definitely got the wrong person. You probably want the drug dealers in the basement or Lola the hooker up on third. Wait! Who are you looking for? Maybe I can point you in the right direction.”
He gave her arm a rough tug. “I’m here to collect the whore who was at the hotel. That’s you. So shut your yap and be a good girl.” He made sniffing noises in her direction. “You smell like sex.”
Tempest was being pulled down the hall like she weighed nothing, and the man’s words sent a chill up her spine. The whore who was at the hotel? Could this nightmare get any worse? The neurons in her brain refused to cooperate. No helpful explanations or escape scenarios came to mind so she grabbed a passing doorknob to try to delay their forward motion. Holding on as tightly as she could, she heard the man laugh before he effortlessly wrenched her hand from the knob.
“What do you want with me? Who is this boss person? What the f**k is going on?”
“No questions, girlie. If you don’t walk under your own power, I’ll just drag you down the stairs. Put bruises all over that sweet ass. I don’t think you’d like that. If the boss wants to tell you anything, he will.
If not, you’ll just do as you’re told.”
“At least let me go to my apartment and change clothes. It’s cold!”
He turned his rodent eyes to her and smiled wide, showing brown teeth. “Youshoulda thought of that before you stripped down in the hotel room, slut. Now you can just hope those prime tits don’t freeze and fall off.” He choked out aphlegmy laugh.
The guy sounded like a reject from a casting call for The Godfather . Her stressed-out, overwhelmed brain finally started to connect the dots. More mob guys. But what did they want with her? She hadn’t seen anything. She didn’t know dick about what had gone on after she’d passed out. Was she actually going to be dragged out into the blizzard and taken to some mobster’s lair, or would the psychopath with the Paul Bunyan boots just attack her in the car?
She tried grabbing onto the handrail on their way downstairs, but the big guy seemed to have such a good time yanking on her arm that she was afraid he’d gleefully rip it out of its socket. He’d been serious about dragging her if she didn’t cooperate. She knew his type. She was just a piece of ass to him. Better to shut up and go along until an option showed up. If an option showed up.
The door at the bottom of the stairs was magically opened by a clone of her escort. The new guy shuffled over to a black van parked in the alley with the engine running. He pulled back the side panel, and Brown Teeth pushed Tempest inside. She landed on her back with her legs splayed. Both men laughed at her as she closed her legs, sat up, and tried to pull her coat down. The fall had twisted her back, and she couldn’t find a comfortable position. The door opener cupped his cock, made a licking motion with his tongue, and said, “I’ll ride in the back with the merchandise.” Brown Teeth shoved him aside. “You got shit for brains? The boss wants her.” He slammed the sliding door, and they both climbed into the two fronts seats.
As the van rolled along the alley, Tempest searched for anything she could use as a weapon, something that might give her the opportunity to buy a few seconds to make a getaway. But the only thing sharing her space was a collection of crumpled fast-food bags, empty cigarette packs, and a suspiciously red-stained towel in the corner. She didn’t relish the idea of running half-naked through a blizzard, but the alternative seemed worse.
One of her captors turned on the radio and heavy metal blared from the over-sized speakers, causing her to briefly cover her ears with her hands. The music was so loud she couldn’t hear what the two mob guys were talking about, but they seemed to be having a heated discussion about something. One of them pointed a thumb in her direction. She had a bad feeling about the topic.
* * * * *
It was a short ride. Just as Tempest’s exhaustion wrestled down her fear and she started to nod off, the van came to a sliding halt. When her abductors turned off the engine, the music blaring from the radio suddenly ended and the silence was thick. It was almost surreal, as if all sound had been sucked from the universe. Her mouth went dry, and her stomach fluttered with anxiety. As a musician, Tempest was used to attacking her eardrums regularly with a wall of sound, but in her present anxious condition, the silence felt like instant deafness. Maybe the heavy snow created an additional acoustic damper, or maybe she was just so tired she was about to lose it completely. The whole thing was weird. Not only did she have the sense of floating in a soundless void, but the two goons in the front seemed to be motionless, as if her brain had pressed an inner “pause” button. Nothing had felt normal to her since her brief time withMalveaux . Her reality train had definitely derailed. He must have drugged her.
She was startled out of her altered state by the slamming of the front doors. Her entourage had gotten out of the van, and Brown Teeth was tugging the side door open. A blast of cold air triggered an adrenaline rush and set her teeth chattering again.
“Come on, girlie. End of the line. Haul ass.” Brown Teeth grabbed one of her ankles, dragging her by one leg toward the opening. She didn’t have time to brace herself, so her upper body slammed back against the floor. Her coat was bunched up around her waist. The other evil Elvis snickered as he leaned in and slid a finger along Tempest’s exposed clit.
“I’mgonna get me some of that, one way or another,” he wheezed.
Tempest didn’t even blink. Her free leg kicked out, and her foot caught him between the eyes. He went down like a skyscraper in an earthquake and didn’t move. Her martial arts training was the best investment she’d ever made.
“Fuck,” Brown Teeth growled, releasing his grip on her ankle. “He’d better not be dead, or it’ll be your ass.”
Tempest jumped out of the van, pulled her jacket down and got up in Brown Teeth’s face. She couldn’t see any benefit to playing victim.
“Yeah, you’re big and bad. I get it. If you’regonna kill me, just do it, but nobody touches my pu**y without an invitation, and you two a**holes don’t have one.”
He took a step back and laughed. “I wouldn’t touch that pu**y with somebody else’s dick. All you working girls got cooties.” He looked down at the stunned mobster crumpled in the deep snow. “I’ll take you downstairs then come back for him. Theboss don’t take kindly to chicksknockin ’ out his second cousin. You better hope he’sfeelin ’ generous today. Let’s go.”