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Merciless (Alexandria Novels 2)

Page 21

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Lulu sniffed. “You said Tony is out back?”

“Yeah. And he asked about you.”

“Did he?”

“He misses you.”

The logical part of her brain told her that he didn’t miss her. He missed her money and body. But the primitive emotional side of her that was so needy and hungry for love, warmed. For just a few minutes, she wanted to fit in and not worry. Just a few minutes …

Lulu smiled, knowing if she could soften a little she could coax a favor out of this chick. “Can you cover my tables for about ten minutes? I’ll owe you.”

The chick nodded. “Yeah, sure. Hey, and I’m working this party late tonight. If you want to come, well the more the merrier.”

Lulu knew what the girl meant. She was turning tricks tonight. Lulu hadn’t turned a trick in six months, and as bad as it was, like the drugs it was familiar and resided in the world she understood. “Maybe.”

Maureen/Marcia nodded. “It will be fun.”

“Sure.” Lulu pulled off her apron and pushed through the crowded bar, through the kitchen, and out the metal door that connected to the alley. The cold night air hit her as the door slammed behind her. Even out here, the pulse of the music throbbed in her gut.

Lulu hugged her arms around her chest. She stood under a lightbulb that spit out enough light to illuminate the back stoop but not enough to light the alley. Darkness surrounded her, but she knew Tony was out there. She could feel his gaze on her. She could almost see him reaching out from the darkness, taking her by the hand, and gently pulling her toward him.

But she knew Tony well enough. He would want her to come to him. Especially after her dramatic speech the last time he’d tried to tempt her with drugs and his bed. “I’m giving that shit up for good.” She’d been so full of strength and will then.

Lulu shoved out a breath. “Tony.”

Cars passed on the street at the alley’s lip. A horn honked. A couple argued on the street. But no Tony.

Bitterness tightened her chest. He was going to make her work for this. He’d been pissed by her last rejection, and he wanted her to beg.

She’d done enough begging over the years. It was part of life. A tool to get what she wanted from her mother, drug dealers, or even johns. The only time begging really hadn’t worked had been the night she’d been with Dr. Dixon. She could still remember looking up at him as he’d tied her to the bed. But when he’d pulled out the scalpel and tracked it over her breast, she’d shivered with terror. That time when she’d begged him not to cut her, she’d meant it. She hadn’t liked the rough sex but had survived it. The one thing she’d not banked on was getting cut or dying.

“Don’t, please,” she whispered. Tears stung her eyes.

His Mr. Rogers grin telegraphed his enjoyment. He liked the way her breasts quivered when she struggled. “I can make you perfect.”

And then he sliced his scalpel over her breast, splitting the skin.

“Leave me the fuck alone!”

Blood trailed down her pale skin. “I want to keep going, but I don’t get to kill. The Other one kills.”

Pain scrambled clear thinking. “Who the hell is that? Is that you?”

He didn’t answer, but the streets had been buzzing about the three missing girls.

She didn’t know who the girls were, but she’d heard whispers. When the first had vanished, there’d been no real alarm sounded. Girls disappeared from the streets. It was a part of this world. But when the second didn’t show, other girls had whispered about a killer on the hunt. By the time the third had gone, fear snapped like electricity on the streets. The girls had wanted to pull back and stick with just the regulars, but their pimps pushed them to work and so they did.

Lulu screamed loud and long, and the noise startled Dixon. He glanced around, suddenly afraid that even in this seedy motel her screams would attract unwanted attention. He rose off the bed and went to his briefcase where he kept his little toys. He was getting a gag.

But there was a dark, dangerous look in his eyes. He’d kill her to survive.

She’d never know how she squirmed free of her bindings, but she had.

When he turned to face her, she had the lamp in her hand and hit him as hard as she could. He stumbled back and hit the floor. She scooped her clothes off the floor and ran out of the room into the street naked. She ran a half block before she stopped to pull on her T-shirt and shorts.

There’d been a female cop working the corner that night. A tall redhead, she was talking to one of the girls and had spotted Lulu the instant she’d paused by the front stoop of a bar.

“You okay?”

Her clear voice startled Lulu. Instinct told her the new girl was a cop so she clutched her hand over her breast to hide her injury, which had bled through her shirt. She didn’t want more trouble. “Fine. I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” The words were wrapped in a genuine gentleness that had sent her defenses crashing.

Lulu had wept. “Some john got a little rough.”

The cop pulled out her phone.“You’re bleeding badly.”

“I’ll heal.”

“Not without help.” She called for an ambulance.

Lulu’s head spun. She’d have fallen if the cop hadn’t cupped her elbow and guided her to the curb. Again, she was gentle. “My name is Officer Julian.”

Tears welled in Lulu’s eyes.

“Who did this to you?” Julian asked.

Lulu sensed the other girls on the corner were watching like wolves ready to destroy the weakest member of the pack. “He’s a regular. His name is Dixon.”

Officer Julian squatted next to her, radiating a strength that made her feel safe. “He cut you.”

She glanced into Julian’s eyes for the first time. To her surprise there was no judgment. No disgust. “I think he was talking about the girls that went missing. I think he killed them.”

And from that moment, her life had changed. She’d gone to the hospital, been stitched up, and the cops had asked her all kinds of questions. She’d identified Dixon in a lineup and soon found herself the key witness in a murder trial.

Lulu shut her eyes. She did not want to remember that part of her life. “Tony! Where are you?”

The shuffle of feet followed, as if he pushed out of the lawn chair he always brought with him. Tony was a big guy and hated standing for long stretches. “I’m here, baby.”

The cold made her nose run. She swiped the back of her hand across it. “I need just a taste. Not much. Just a taste.”

“Baby, I got all the taste you need.” He stepped into the fragile ring of light, his black face blending with the darkness. He grinned, his gold and diamond grill catching the light. “What kind of taste do you want?”

“Nothing harsh. Just a little to get me through.”

He chuckled. “Thought you didn’t want no more parts of me.”

How could she have been so sure then and so unsure now? “Yeah, we a

ll say stuff.”

“Sure, baby.”

“I just want a taste.” She played a dangerous game. He’d give her a sample, knowing she’d want more. And when she came begging for more, he’d start making demands. But she wouldn’t want more.

She wouldn’t!

He slid his big, black hand into his pocket and pulled out a baggy full of tissue-paper wads. “I can give you a few hits.”

She glanced around the alley, worried for the first time that someone would see her. “Just one will do.” She dug a twenty out of her pants pocket and handed it to him.

He took it and happily handed her a little tissue wad loaded with coke. “I tossed in a little extra.”

Lulu stared at the wad in her hand, hating and craving it all at once.

“I’ll be here for a few more hours if you need me again, baby.”

Her fingers tightened around her little lump of happiness. “I won’t be back.”

Genuine laughter rolled out of his chest. “Right.” Brown eyes glistened and danced as Tony stared down at her. The hunter stared at his prey.

Unable to bear his gaze on her any longer, she turned and moved toward the other edge of the light. Her heart hammered in her chest as she slowly unfurled her fingers.

Just a taste.

I won’t be back.

With a trembling hand she untwisted the top of the wad and found the little lump of white powder. Just a sniff and she knew how good she was going to feel.

Just a sniff.

Just one.

She raised her palm to her nose, and in a blink Angie Carlson’s face flashed in her mind. The attorney had stared at her this afternoon, clearly expecting her to be a fuckup. The gaze had raised Lulu’s ire, and she’d been determined to prove to the snotty bitch that she was worthwhile.

For several moments sitting in that fancy office, she’d felt as low as she had on the witness stand. And that had pissed her off. But she’d held her tongue because she’d wanted her son more than she’d wanted to tell Carlson to fuck off.

And staying in control had served her well. By the end of their meeting, there’d been the faintest hint of hope in Angie’s eyes.

I want my son.



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