Dance For Me (27 page)

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Authors: Alice Dee

BOOK: Dance For Me
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 “So whatchu wanna do tonight?” he asked, coming up for air.

  Hope slid her hand under his shirt to feel his warm flesh. She slid her hand between his lower stomach and the tightness of his belt, grabbing a firm hold on him.  His breath got heavy quick-he scanned the club to make sure no one was noticing this. No one seemed to be paying attention.

“You gonna tease me?” he asked, looking down at her arm that was half hidden under his shirt.

“Yes,” she said, licking his lips.

 “Ugh,” he grunted, flushing all hot and bothered. “Thought you wanted to take things slow?”

 “It will be slow...at first. Let’s go,” she whispered, still licking his lips in slow motion.

Fuck yeah, he thought. Fuck. Yeah.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 50... Confusion

 

“Is that her?” Marcus pointed out one girl. She was conversing with a bouncer out on the sidewalk. Her hair was long and dark and she had dimples.

“Nah,” Joe replied.

“She looks Hispanic.”

“She said it’s a skinny bitch. That bitch aint skinny.”

 “That bitch is fine. Mmm!” Marcus grunted, biting his bottom lip.

 “What about that one,” Joe said to Marcus. He pulled onto the Avenue and slowly strolled passed Mercedes who was standing outside the Lucky Star, and pointed out another dark haired woman in a short dress. They pulled up in front of Palm Nation. The guys looked in the rear view mirrors and watched the brunette. She was with some guy in dark clothes and together they disappeared to the back of the Lucky Star. 

  “It’s gotta be that one.”

The boys decided to follow them to their next destination. It was too risky to do something here. Maybe they would stop somewhere not so crowded or even at whoever’s house. They could do it then. They followed the car from a safe distance, which led them to a small two story four-plex a few minutes north of Las Vegas. They parked across the street and waited patiently. Marcus checked out their surroundings. It was quiet and dark on this street. The four-plex was a corner, back facing the highway.

“So what we doing?” Marcus asked. “Just socking her up?”

“Reach in the glove compartment. Grab that stun gun. We don’t know what that dude’s got on him so have that ready. He does anything you taser that mother fucker.”

“They’re getting off, come on.” The boys opened their doors quietly and headed across the street to the parking lot.

 

***

“Shit.”

Tristan rolled her head toward Dominic.

“What’s wrong?”

“I forgot my wallet. I gotta turn back and pick up some cash.”

Dominic busted a U-turn and drove back home. Tristan waited in the truck, got on the phone to talk to Charla and examined her false nails against the freeway lights. Through the side rearview mirror she could see Dominic heading up the stairs.

“I think it’s going down tonight but I don’t know all the details. I guess I’ll know when word gets back to me.” 

A car pulled in next to Dominic’s truck, in Hope’s old parking spot. Tristan turned her head and saw Justin in his car talking to his passenger. She sunk lower into her seat, hoping he wouldn’t see her because she didn’t feel like talking to him. Luckily he didn’t notice her. She watched as he and Hope’s “prostitute friend” started messing around on the trunk of Justin’s car.

“I better stop them before they end up having sex right in front of me. Talk to you later, bye.” Tristan hung up and rolled down her window.

“What are you doing here?” she called out.

Justin and Shamayla stopped kissing. Shamayla straightened herself out and crossed her arms, giving Tristan a nasty ass look. Tristan smiled back at her. She got Dominic back and that was that.

’Hate on, loser’ Tristan thought to herself.

“What’s up Tristan?” He held up Dominic’s wallet. “He left it at my house.”

 

***

By the time Marcus and Joe realized there was someone in the white truck, it was too late. They were only feet away from their target(s). Marcus went for the girl while Joe came up behind Justin and got him in a headlock. Shamayla started fighting back but Marcus was too strong for her. He put his hand over her mouth and ran her head into the side of Justin’s car. Marcus dragged screaming Shamayla to her feet and hesitated for a few seconds.

 “This is fucked up,” he said to himself. He bit the bullet, about to pop Shamayla in the upper stomach. With her wind knocked out, she wouldn’t even be able to cry. Marcus heard someone shout from the stairs. He left Shamayla against the car and went for the stun gun as Dominic came down the stairs. Trying to run backwards and aim at the same time, Marcus shot the stun gun and accidently got Shamayla in the head. Shamayla had been running toward Justin when she caught that jolt with her scalp. Her legs turned noodle and she collapsed to the concrete, skull bouncing off the pavement.

“Fuck!” Marcus shouted, dropping the weapon. He ran away and didn’t look back.

  Joe was too busy fighting with Justin who had been too caught off guard. Dominic grabbed the man all in black who was kicking his friend’s ass.

At this point Tristan hopped off the truck not knowing what was going on. She recognized the guy on the ground underneath Dominic. He was Joe from the strip club and there was no doubt about why he was here. She figured the guys fucked up somehow and so she panicked, and jumped on Dominic’s back. Dominic tried to get Tristan off of him, shouting at her to get off. She put his hands over his eyes, disabling Dominic and letting the guy scurry from underneath him and run off.

“What are you doing?!” Dominic shouted, flipping her over on her back. “He fucking got away!”

Tristan didn’t know how she’d get out of this but if that guy had been arrested, he might talk and she would be held responsible. She couldn’t let that happen.

“What the fuck, Tristan!”

While Justin tried to get on his feet, Dominic went over to Shamayla who was on the ground, unconscious.

“That fucker kneed me in the balls,” Justin said through eyes squeezed shut. When he opened them, he saw Dominic slapping at Shamayla’s face, trying to get her to wake up.

“What the fuck happened to her?” Justin cried out, limping to the passenger side of the car where Shamayla was on the ground.

Tristan put her hands over her mouth. She looked out in the direction Marcus and Joe took off in.

“Call the cops!” Dominic shouted at Tristan.

She nervously went back to the truck and got on her cell. Tristan’s heart was beating insanely. She wondered if it had been mistaken identity; it had to be. She hesitated to dial 9-11 but knew she had to.

“What the fuck was that about?” Dominic asked, heaving. He looked from Justin to Tristan who had just got off the phone. 

“Is she all right?” Tristan asked in a shaky voice.

“No, her head’s split open, she’s fucking bleeding!” Dominic took off his shirt and wrapped Shamayla’s head in it while Justin held her in his arms, panicking.

After the cops took down their statements and Shamayla was driven off in an ambulance, the scene was reduced to Dominic and Tristan. They sat in his living room in silence that scared Tristan. Dominic was staring at her and he had that creepy, serious, scary look in his eye.

“You better start talking.”

Tristan sat stiffly on his couch.

“You were getting carried away-“

“You jumped on my back,” he said over her words. “You covered my eyes, and you let him get away. Why were you protecting him? Do you know him?”

She didn’t like how Dominic was talking to her like she was a four year old.

“I already told you, you’re scary when you fight. You looked ready to kill him-“

“No, you’re a liar. What was that?”

Tristan couldn’t tell him the truth. No frikken way. How could she explain that? Imagine what he would do if he knew she hired someone to beat up Hope? And then this happens… they target the wrong girl? Tristan knew their fuck up was her fuck up but she’d rather answer to Dominic than to the police.

Dominic grabbed his keys and headed down the stairs.

“Where are you going?”

“The hospital to see how my friends are.” He got in his truck and left Tristan there, staring down at him from his door.

 

 

  51... Interruptions

        Shane couldn’t figure out what was going on with Hope but knew better than to ask dumb questions. He figured she must really be sorry ‘cause she realized what a catch he was. On the way to her apartment, Shane could barely drive because she was kissing his neck and grabbing on him the entire time. As she unbuckled herself he put his hand on her wrist and told her to hold up for a second. She looked at him, he studied her eyes trying to determine whether she was drunk or not.

   “Are you drunk?” 

    She looked pretty normal, maybe just a little tipsy.

   “No, I only had a few sips before we left.”

    He recognized that she was indeed sober. He just wondered what would mess this up because it was too good to be true.

 “Come on,” she smiled, biting her bottom lip. She leaned in to give him another kiss and then got out of the car. She led him through the gate and through her apartment building that was quiet on this night. As they neared her door, Shane noticed the pebble gardens and cacti maze around the complex. He looked at her, silvery jingly earrings, tight little skirt…she looked so decorated and girly. Hope unlocked her door, turned into him and started kissing him again.

   Like he had been thinking earlier, don’t ask dumb questions. She was hot and cold, hot and cold. He didn’t see anything getting in the way of this but her, herself. Hopefully she wouldn’t change her mind mid-way and stop things. She left the lights off and took his hand, leading him down the hall and into her bedroom where her bedroom set was all set up.

  She fell back on her bed, Shane on top of her, pulling his shirts over his head. He lowered his head to her stomach, kissing it while sliding off her skirt. Hope smiled wide as he left a trail of kisses from her thigh to her ankle. He slid her skirt passed her feet and flung it behind him. She bit down on her knuckle as Shane’s lips worked their way back up her inner thigh. She squeezed her bottom lip tight between her teeth, interrupted by pounding on the front door. Shane paused and looked up at Hope, resumed, but then there it went again.

   “That’s not your ex, right?”

  Music played from her phone on the night stand. 

  “Should you answer it?” Shane asked.

  “Whoever it is will go away.” She dreamily closed her eyes as he went on kissing her.

 Then the window shook with thunder.

 “Hope! Hooope!!” A raspy troll like voice called from outside.

“Okay,” Shane said, moving his mouth away from her. “What the hell was that? That sounded like a toad."

 She recognized Mercedes’ voice. She sighed long and heavy and put her wrist to her forehead.

  “Daaaaamn,” Hope said between clenched teeth.

  “Open the door!” 

   Shane and Hope watched the shadow head away from the window. 

  “I’ll get rid of her.” Hope swung her leg over Shane and sat up, putting on her kimono style robe. She left the door ajar and headed down the dark hallway, into the living room and opened the door. Mercedes didn’t give Hope a chance to say a word.

 “I don’t have all the details, all I know is Shamayla’s at the Hospital.”

 Hope watched Mercedes’ mouth as she spoke.

 “I have my car, do you want a ride?”

  “I have a friend over. I’ll be there, meet me there.”

  Hope didn’t even thank Mercedes for the news. She closed the door and in a blind spell walked into her room.

 

            

         

                

 

 52... Serious?

 

            She was right, this was ridiculous. He folded his arm behind his head and watched Hope grab her robe off a chair and slip into it. She hurried out of the room. Shane hoped she’d get rid of whoever it was and then they could pick up where the left off but maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. He wondered if this was God’s way of telling him this just wasn’t meant to happen. He could accept that if only he could accept that. He didn’t want to.

‘I want this girl, help me out, help me out.’
He bit his lip
. ‘No, I can’t pray for that. That’s fuckin’ crazy.’ 

         He eyed the room and various girly things like her peach colored lamp, a sheer purple scarf and beaded jewelry hanging off one bedpost.  There were saints and candles on the dresser top. She was Catholic. On the wall was a small framed portrait of a woman from around the thirties or so. He figured it was Hope’s great grandmother or some relative from another time.

         The same music played again and her phone vibrated against the night stand table top. The screen lit up bluish white and glowed in the darkness. It stopped ringing and then the phone went dark. He could hear voices. Shane sighed and tried to hear more but he couldn’t. The phone lit up again, catching his eye. He walked to the window and tried to ignore it but it was just begging him to look. Come on, just look at me, see who’s calling. He waited it out. The temptation died out with the light and all was silent. But then amazingly, it rang again.

 

  Hope stopped in the hall for a moment to get her head around what she’d just heard. She pushed the door open and saw him fully clothed putting on his shoes.

 “Good, you’re dressed.”

 “Is everything okay?”

 “No.”

  “What’s wrong?”  He grabbed his keys off the ground and waited for her response.

 “That was Mercedes. Shamayla’s in the hospital. I don’t know what happened, I don’t know if it’s minor or serious, I just don’t know.”

“You want me to drive you?”

 Hope got into a dress and pulled her hair back.

 “You don’t have to do that.”

 “I want to.”

 She smiled at him.

  “Really?”

 “Of course.”

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