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Cindy VanTur forced herself to slip from the rear of her car.
The chauffeur was tall and dark. He was cold, his features lean
and wolf-hungry as the dark eyes roamed her body. A quiver started in her
middle.
She ignored it.
“Thank you, Jamison.”
He leaned close, and warm breath blew into her ear.
Ignoring that, as well, she stalked to the door of the motel room
and palmed the lock. The computer read the palm print, recognized it as a
master, one of the new gods, and opened for her without warning the inhabitants.
Mike and Creel were sharing the room. The TriV screen was flashing
LIVE TO YOU: ON AIR LIIIIVE TV! (Mike
From North Carolina and Local Boy Do Philly! Current Viewers: 200).
It showed a woman sprawled in the sheets in each bed. In each bed
right before her. Cindy took a step forward with her fists clenched. She
stumbled and looked down to see the floor littered with bottles. Cameras in the
walls winked on.
“You dirty son of a bitch,” she cried. “Damn you, Mike. Get
up.”
He didn’t bother opening his eyes. “What, Cindy?”
“Get up and get those whores out of here.”
Squinting against the light, Mike sat up in bed. He smoothed the
hair from the woman’s face, stroking her awake.
“Mm-m, no.” She sighed and yawned. “‘M sore, Miky. Asked
Linda.”
Cindy jumped forward with her hand open and clawed, a snarl
marring her face.
Mike grabbed the hand. Staring into Cindy’s cold fury, he pushed
it down. When she straightened, he shook the woman.
“Time to go, sweetheart. I’ll call a cab for you and your
sister.”
“Oh, Mike. Let me sleep.”
“Sorry, honey, but my wife is here.”
The woman bolted up in bed, saw Cindy and ran for the bathroom
slapping Linda on her bare bottom.
Mike offered Cindy a smile. He held up the sheets and winked.
She scowled.
“Come on, honey,” he said. “I missed you.”
Both prostitutes came from the bathroom and ran by the beds and
out.
“Hey, don’t you want a cab?”
“I’d rather have them fried.”
“Now, Cindy. Don’t be mad at them. And don’t get mad at me,
either. It’s your fault.”
“Mine?” she cried. “I’m not the one sleeping with some
diseased bitch.”
“She had her shots, and her doctor is a Party rep at the
house.”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”
His face hardened. “Mean what? What do you mean? I get sent on a wild goose chase into the slums of
Philadelphia, and you complain when I look for a little comfort. Hell, I’m a
whole man, not like your boy-toy, there.” His chin jerked in the direction of
the open door and Jamison.
The casterati darkened.
“Door,” Mike shouted. “Close.”
Jamison leaped at it but the door slammed shut. He began to pound
on it. The insulation thickened to kill the racket.
“Maybe you want to make me like him?” Mike snatched up the
trashcan and shook it at her. Condoms littered the bottom. “Maybe you want to
cut off my balls, too. Is that it? You want a clean bed-toy, Cindy? One that
won’t make spots on your silk sheets.”
Shouting at Mike over the roar of his voice, Cindy stomped her
foot. It came down on a bottle. Arms flailing, she screamed. Mike grabbed her,
dragging her to the bed.
“Let me go,” Cindy cried, punching at Mike.
He rolled over on top of her, shoving her into the cheap mattress
and smiled down at her.
“Let me go,” she said, gritting her teeth at his smirk.
“Never. I’m old-fashioned, lady. Every part I was born with I
still have, and I’m going to keep. And then there’s you.”
He pressed his lips against hers. Cindy’s teeth snapped at him.
A smug Mike chuckled. “Bet that gelding wouldn’t dare try
that.”
“Neither will you, once I have you arrested. I’m going to have
them put in a jar of formaldehyde and set on the fireplace mantle at the farm so
you can look at them every day. In the dining room, I think, right between–”
Smiling, he stroked her body, and she wriggled against him.
“Between trophies for Stallion of the Year and my first blue
ribbon for jumping.”
He slid a hand under her blouse. “Will mine be marked Best of
Show?”
“No.” She scowled. “But as you’re serving dinner, you can
dust the jar.”
“Promise?” He buried his face in her neck and whispered.
Cindy’s eyes widened.
“Yes. I . . . swear.”
A few minutes later her clothing was on the floor, and she was
crying out for more. The TriV screen widened.
The demon shouted, “LIVE
TO YOU: ON AIR LIIIIVE TV!” (Mike from North Carolina and Local Boy Do
Philly! Current Viewers: 98,000)–“NOW INTERNATIONAL!”
Cindy screamed and wailed in delight.
Creel sat up in bed. Numbers on the screen were shooting higher by
the second. He saw who was under Mike and did the smart thing. He went back to
sleep.
©2004 StoriesByEmail.com
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