Per Verse Vengeance Read online

  “Get out. Slowly.”

  “What are you doing?” Nick asks, but he gets out of the car.

  “Now take your gun out and put it on the seat … and your phone.”

  “You’re making a big mistake here,” Nick remarks, but he does as she says.

  She shoves him away from the car toward the surrounding desert, hard enough that he falls to his knees, a few feet away from her. She keeps the gun pointed at his head. “How much did they pay you?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  The road curves out of sight. A dry desert wind blows, accompanied by the skittish sound of lizards and a howl of a coyote in the distance. “I’ll ask you one more time, how much did they pay you?” Suddenly a speeding eighteen-wheeler appears out of nowhere, and Nicole startles at the bright lights and roaring engine. Nick uses the moment to jump toward her and knock the gun out of hand. Then a swift and nasty kick to the stomach sends her flying backwards to the ground. He follows her down, grabs her arms and flings her toward a small embankment. Nicole rolls across the hard ground, gasping. She makes it onto her knees, then starts to vomit … a string of green bile now covering her expensive suit and shoes. She finally catches her breath. “Did you really have to hit me so hard?”

  “Sweetheart, that’s the least of your problems,” Nick replies and points her gun at her.

  “Go ahead … do it.”

  “If I were you, I wouldn’t be in such a rush to die because on the off chance there is a Heaven and a Hell … I don’t see Saint Peter greeting you at the Golden Gates.”

  “Fuck you!”

  “Now, now. That type of language is not going to help your case one bit.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I want what every boy who grows up in the Bronx wants … to play center field for the Yankees.”

  “Well, I can’t do anything about that. But if you let me live, I can double … triple what they’re paying you. Three … four hundred thousand. All the money I have.”

  “You sad, pathetic child. I give four hundred thousand a year to my least favorite charities. Just stay where you are while I go get you some clean clothes out of the car. Make a move and I’ll shoot your knee caps and make the rest of your life really miserable.”

  Nick opens the trunk and looks down at an armory of weapons. “You have an arsenal back here, Nicole.”

  “They’re all registered and licensed.”

  “I’m sure they are,” Nick says to himself as he grabs a dress, shoes and a bottle of mouthwash from her luggage and slams the trunk shut. He flings her clothes at her as he walks past to pick up his gun and phone from the passenger seat.

  Then he turns to watch as she starts to undress.

  “Can’t you at least show me some decency and turn around.”

  “Nope. The last thing I’m doing is turning my back on you. Believe me, whatever you have to offer, I’ve seen plenty times before.”

  She takes off her soiled clothes and shoes and puts on the clean stuff. Nick flips her the bottle of mouthwash and she rinses out her mouth. “Can you get me a bag for my clothes?”

  “Let the vultures have them.”

  “This outfit cost me over two thousand dollars.”

  “I said leave it. Be happy it’s not your little hide that the vultures are feeding on.”

  Nick follows her back to the car, grabs the back of her neck and forces her down into the passenger seat. Then he opens the glove compartment and takes out another pistol and remarks, “Licensed!” He walks around to the driver’s side and sits down.

  “I don’t like other people driving my car.”

  “Get use to it. Your driving privileges have been revoked.”

  Nick pulls back onto the road as Nicole glares out the window, tapping her fingers against the glass.

  “Has anyone ever told you, you drive like an old lady?” she asks.

  “I would be very careful. You don’t smell like a bed of roses and I’m seriously contemplating throwing you in the trunk.”

  “Wow. You really know how to make a lady feel good about her herself.”

  “You just tried to kill me, you little psychopath.”

  “I wasn’t going to kill you. I was just going to push you and your luggage down the hill.”

  “Bullshit. You had every intention of killing me.”

  “Okay, maybe, but probably not…”

  “I can only imagine the trail of mayhem and horror you must’ve left behind … to actually think there’s a hitman after you.”

  “You don’t know anything about me.”

  “I know you have no problem killing people.”

  “Circumstances you know nothing about.”

  “Well then, why don’t you enlighten me? Why not start with the dead guy in your hotel room?”

  Nicole turns to the window again, sighs and continues to drum her fingers. She looks forlornly out at the spectral surroundings. A canopy of stars shines down upon them as the headlights of the car pierce the dark and lonely landscape.

  “He was my boss. The head of the Las Vegas chapter of high-end prostitutes, mostly from Appalachia, sold by our parents with the promise that we would enjoy a better life than we could ever have imagined. The son of a bitch always had an eye for me. But it was forbidden by the council for any member … especially bosses … to have sex with any of the girls. I made it clear to him that I was willing to take the risk and keep quiet. He couldn’t resist and now he’s riding up and down in a service elevator with a bullet through his head.”

  “So it was revenge.”

  “He got what he deserved.”

  “And this council … are they the money behind this operation?”

  “Yeah. Wall Street types, gangsters, Hollywood producers. It’s simple. Nothing sells quite like sex, and believe me, people will pay any price to live out their twisted fantasies.”

  “Do you know any of these council members?”

  “A couple, but only by name.”

  “Start from the beginning.”

  “The beginning is a long time ago.”

  “I’ve got plenty of time. One of the benefits of driving like an old lady.”

  Nicole taps the side window repeatedly … her eyes dotting across scattered cacti. She can almost feel their thorny stems reaching in and stabbing her battered body and mind.

  “It’s better if I don’t tell you any more. The less you know … the better.”

  Nick almost smiles, then lifts his gun and points it at her. “Start talking.”

  “Like you would actually shoot me.”

  “You know, you’re not nearly as attractive right now as you were at the bar. So stop with the attitude and start talking.”

  “Whatever you say, tough guy. It was a dark and gloomy night, a long, long time ago and little Nicole—”

  Nick shoves the barrel of his gun into her side.

  “Hey, that really hurt! The next time, I swear I’ll heave all over you.”

  The gun jams into her side again, and she jumps. “Fine, I’ll tell you the whole friggin’ story.”

  Nick settles back in his seat but keeps the gun pointed at her.

  “One day, a fancy lady pulled up in front of our trailer … knocked on the door and made my parents an offer they couldn’t refuse. Fifty thousand dollars for their fifteen-year-old daughter.”

  Nick looks at her with disbelieving eyes. “Yeah, I know it’s hard to believe. Fifty thousand for a hillbilly whose only redeeming and appealing quality was her looks. I guess they’d been scouting me for some time … said they wanted me for a modeling agency. They promised my parents I would get a superb education … I’d be provided for like a princess. Naturally, my loving parents signed on the dotted line, waiving all parental rights.”

  Nicole laughs as she looks at the expression on Nick’s face. “What? Like your parents wouldn’t have done the same?”

  Nick suppresses the desire to reply and she continues, “When
I came home from school that day, my younger brother and baby sister were outside admiring a limousine in front of our trailer. Madam Johnson was still there. My parents told me I’d be going on a trip with her … to an enchanted place. Just thinking about driving in a car reserved for movie stars and I had my first real orgasm. I was wet all over. It was like I peed myself.”

  Nick smiles faintly … it’s hard to imagine an innocent fifteen-year-old Nicole.

  “I thought you might like that analogy.”

  “Cute … and distasteful,” Nick remarks.

  “You haven’t heard anything yet.”

  Nicole looks down at her hands, takes a breath and glances out the window again. “In the limo … Madam Johnson sort of … examined me … like I was cattle or something. She ran her hands all over my face, my hair, my breasts … even my feet and hands.”

  Nicole’s voice trails off and without looking at her, Nick can tell she’s lost in her memory. “Then she … she put her fingers into me … my vagina. Poked around like she was looking for some hidden treasure. I just froze. I didn’t stop her. I remember she said, Very nice. And then just wiped her hands off on a Kleenex. We went on a private plane. There was another girl, Elizabeth. They gave us bottled water — first time in my life I had water that wasn’t from a tap — and broiled fish and vegetables.”

  Nicole sniffs the air. “My God, I really do smell. Maybe, you should put me in the trunk.”

  “Just keep talking.”

  “Why? You have a time machine? It’s not like we can go back and change things. I don’t see the purpose in rehashing this, and don’t you dare shove that gun into my side again.”

  Nick places the gun in his left side coat pocket as a grimace of pain streaks across his face.

  “Why do you favor your right side so much?” Nicole asks. “Were you involved in an accident?”

  “I guess you could call it that.”

  “Recent?”

  “A little over a year ago. It seems to flare up whenever I have to flip a naughty little girl over my shoulder.”

  “Bullshit! I noticed it back at the bar. So, what happened?”

  “Just an accident.”

  Nick turns on the radio as Nicole rests her head against the side window and studies his handsome face as she listens to Bob Seger’s, “Roll Me Away.” She suddenly reaches down and shuts off the radio.

  “Don’t like that song?” Nick asks.

  “I love that song. That’s the problem,” Nicole replies. “Are you familiar with upstate New York?”

  “A little.”

  “Well, that plane carrying Elizabeth and I landed on the grounds of this huge estate along the Hudson. Until this very day, after nearly a decade in Las Vegas, I’ve still never seen an estate that big. Makes the new Yankee stadium look like a toy. It has a hospital, cemetery, libraries, a gym bigger than Rupp Arena, dance halls, screening rooms, classrooms, auditoriums … an unholy city hidden by an impenetrable forest and the mighty Hudson.”

  The darkness on both sides of them, like a cloud of discontent silently forming a commonality … a confessional bond, is punctured only by the headlights of the car as it pierces the black solitude that lies ahead.

  “At first, I thought I was living some type of dream and Elizabeth, who was my roommate the entire time we were there, thought that Jesus had delivered her to the Promised Land. Her family was very religious … Bible-thumping hypocrites who preached the word of God but had no problem selling off their daughter. After all, they had four others. Our room was bigger than my entire home back in Kentucky and we shared our own bathroom. Our beds were huge and comfortable. The pillows smelled like flowers. There were about twenty of us girls, all about my age. And one Miss Lynch. We called her our hall monitor. We were supposed to go to her if we had any questions.”

  Nicole starts to laugh. “I’ll never forget Elizabeth’s first question to Miss Lynch. She asked if we had to pay rent to stay there. Poor Elizabeth, she was way too good for this world.”

  “The two of you didn’t keep in touch after you left this palace?” Nick asks.

  Nicole’s eyes well up with tears that stream down her face like a torrential storm. She trembles and stutters as Nick reaches over and takes her hand. “No! Please don’t, please don’t touch me.” He lets go as she desperately tries to regain control.

  “Yes, we were both assigned to Vegas and we shared an apartment the entire time. At least … until a few weeks ago when I was called down to the city morgue to identify her body. Maybe she’s finally made it to the Promised Land?” She starts to choke up again as she tightly clenches her fists and pushes down hard into the seat.

  “An overdose. She was way too good to survive this place.”

  She bows her head and her long dark hair veils her face. “Has your mother ever touched your face in such a soft, comforting way that it felt like it had the healing power of God and for the moment all worries were magically removed?”

  “Sure, many times,” Nick replies.

  “Well, that’s how Miss Lynch’s hand felt. The very next day, I found myself in a dentist chair for the first time. At least half my teeth had cavities but I was lucky. I didn’t need braces. All the other girls in our hall did.” She smiles and reveals her beautiful teeth as she tries to defuse some of the tension.

  The next day, it was a doctor appointment. They told me I was going to have a few minor surgeries, nothing to worry about. I remember them putting a mask over my face and telling me to count backwards from a hundred. When I woke up, Miss Lynch was there. She touched my face and told me that everything went great. I was still so drugged I couldn’t talk. When I finally came to, Miss Lynch told me that I had a few cysts removed from my vaginal area … that it was normal for girls my age to have them and best to get rid of them as soon as possible. And they removed a mole from the back of my neck.”

  Nicole turns her head and lifts her hair, revealing a surgical bandage on the back of her neck. “I guess this can come off now,” she says. “It’s been over a week.”

  She pulls off the gauze and Nick sees a freshly forming scar.

  “They put a monitoring chip back there … like the type you might put in your dog. I finally found a doctor I could trust to take it out.”

  “All the girls had that?”

  “Yes. But when you come from nothing and are suddenly fed three delicious meals a day and given beautiful clothes, pedicures and manicures, you don’t rock the boat. They gave us dance classes, ballet, taught by real professionals. We swam every morning in a beautiful Olympic-size pool instead of the dirty creek behind our Kentucky mansion. And I was reading a lot … and to my surprise, enjoying poetry. Byron, Keats and Shelly. You’d be surprised what a hillbilly can learn when given a chance. They taught us to speak properly and walk like a lady. I learned how to play the piano and the violin. It was all Mozart and Beethoven, and jazz and the Beatles. No trite country music.”

  Nicole looks down at her bandage, which has fallen on the seat between them. “I guess you’re not a germophobe?”

  “No. I’ve been around enough disease and germs and nasty bacteria in my life that my immune system might be the healthiest thing about me.”

  “They taught us proper hygiene too. Being pretty was one thing but it was also really important to smell nice. Yeast infections were not a good thing.”

  Nicole rolls the bandage into a small ball and throws it out the window into the darkness. “Domus dei, porta caeli,” she remarks. “The house of God is the door to Heaven.”

  “They taught you Latin?”

  “No, but there were Latin phrases engraved on many of the old stone buildings. Apparently, Catholic monks originally owned the property. Ex opere operato.”

  “By virtue the work performed,” Nick translates.

  “Very good, Nicky. A Catholic-school alumni?”

  “Yeah. So when did the biology classes begin?”

  “The very next year … a core requirement. No shame in
allowing your greatest asset to be exploited and trashed. After all, ten percent of ten thousand is one thousand dollars and that’s not counting off-the-book tips from especially satisfied customers. Not bad for a hillbilly. The training was intensive but thankfully the school had an ample supply of volunteers willing to help explore every aspect of our bodies. Teenage boys, lesbians, middle-aged men, senior citizens … ugly, pretty, disabled. You name it. Actually, you probably would have been an eager volunteer after suffering through all that nonsense Catholic schools preach.”

  “No, I would not have been an eager volunteer. Some of that nonsense, as you call it, was teaching us the difference between right and wrong … and instilling in us a moral code that I’ve tried to live by.”

  “Bullshit. That little speech might work on your mommy but not on a girl like me. If you had seen me in my skimpy lingerie and someone told you to go play doctor, your little brain between your legs would have led you straight to me.”

  “Not if you smelled like you do now.”

  She laughs. “Is that the best you can come up with?”

  “Let me rephrase. I hope that if I were in such a situation, I would walk away, but not before I kicked the living shit out of the degenerates in charge.”

  “You would have set me free?”

  “Of course I would have set you free.”

  “And if I didn’t want to be set free?”

  “They had you that brainwashed?”

  “Like I told you, I came from nothing and was suddenly living in a palace. Having my body violated was a small price to pay for never having to go back to that shithole.”

  “So when did they ship you off to Vegas?”

  “When I was seventeen. Young enough to play a cheerleader one night and a socialite the next. Which one would you prefer?”

  “The one sitting next to me.”

  She laughs. “The smelly Nicole?”

  “The Nicole from the bar … before you opened your mouth.”