Posted by hisdinner on November 27, 2004 at 03:07:04:
Chapter 3
Martin was whispering on the phone when Nigiri's new drones pulled their van into the motel parking lot. Allie had flopped into a chair, just back from the coffee shop. Two Styrofoam cups and a bag of carryout rested on the table directly in front of her. She had one foot propped up on the windowsill. Allie sighed. She could really use a pedicure. The ugly orange van caught her eye. It was just pulling into a spot on the outskirts of the lot. She watched as two big bouncer types got out of it. Thug One walked slowly toward the manager's office with a cell phone stuck to his ear. His partner scanned the cars in the lot.
They were definitely looking for someone who wasn't expecting them, Allie thought. If they knew where their friends were, they'd go right to the room. Cripes, there were only ten units in the whole place. This was the most interesting thing that had happened all day, though. It seemed like Martin just wanted to lay low, catch up on sleep. Allie giggled, and touched the tender spot on the underside of her breast. Wow. Last night had been amazing. Scary. So hot. He'd actually cut her, and – Allie must have replayed the whole scene a thousand times in her head already today. His mouth, sucking in her blood. Nibbling a little. But now he was all business on the phone. Again. Allie thought about polishing her nails. She kept an eye on the muscle man outside. The guy was creeping along, reading each license plate like it was a puzzle to sort out. Weird.
"Martin? Look at this guy in the parking lot."
Martin waved his hand while crouching lower over the receiver. He had his back to the window. He hadn't seen a thing so far. Allie pulled her foot from sill, and as she did, the vinyl curtain flopped back into place. Outside, the movement caught the eye of Thug Two, who had stopped to check the license plate of the car outside their unit. He looked up just as Allie parted the curtains again to see what he was doing. Their eyes met. The big guy smiled. It was a slow, predatory grin, like a cartoon cat about to catch a cartoon mouse. Only this guy was way too scary.
"Oh, shit." She said, letting the curtain fall into place again. Too late. Thug Two whistled for his buddy. Nowhere in sight, probably in the office. Twoey patted his pocket, swore, and hustled it back to the van. Allie leapt across the bed, grabbed Martin's arm and tugged at him.
"They found us, dammit, they're here!"
Martin frowned and shrugged out of her grip. "What?" He had just hung up the phone.
"There are two guys outside and they're definitely looking for somebody and one of them just spotted me and I think he's going to shoot us! I think it's the guys who want to kill me!" Allie was frantic, trying to pull Martin off the bed, trying to get him moving.
"The window in the bathroom! It's big enough, come on!" Someone was knocking on the door. Allie was queasy. She hadn't even thrown the extra bolts in place. Stupid!
"Settle down," he said. "I've been expecting them."
"What?" She screamed at him. He was a fucking maniac, that's what. "Expecting them!" She wanted to run and lock the door but she was closer to the bathroom.
Martin smiled. He was still sitting on the bed, buttoning his shirt, taking his time.
The guy outside knocked on the door again. Each time he pounded Allie could see a crack of daylight between the door and the jamb.
Allie backed against the wall close to the bathroom. She reached for the door handle, and Martin said, "Don't. Calm down, sit." She shook her head. Martin walked around the end of the bed, opened the door, and let in the big thug. His bulk nearly filled the doorframe.
"You Jeff?" The big guy nodded. Martin nodded back. The men sat down on either side of the table. Jeff eyed Allie and licked his lips. She pretended not to see. Martin pulled back the curtain. He waved to someone outside. Allie stood in the corner by the bathroom, willing herself invisible. She jiggled the bathroom door handle and discovered it was locked. "Trapped like a rat," she whispered. She could hardly breathe.
Martin turned to her and patted a spot on the bed next to him. "Allie?" His smile never wavered. She couldn't figure it out. He was about to die because he screwed the big guy's boss out of a lot of money, and –well, her. They were both about to die, weren't they? The muscle man obviously had returned to the van to grab a gun. Now Martin wanted them to make chit-chat first?
"Are you kidding me?" she said, wrapping her arms around herself. There was a sharp rap on the door, and Allie jumped.
Jeff reached back without leaving his chair and opened the door for his partner. "Hey Carl. This is Martin," he said. Carl was carrying a big case. He crossed to the desk and put it down. "Hey," Carl said. He leaned against the desk.
Allie rushed past Carl to the door. She pulled it open. Martin jumped up and grabbed her by the arm. She squawked and struggled in his grip. He pulled her inside and threw the bolt, and sat her down on the bed. "What is the matter with you?" she screamed at him.
"Nigiri is a businessman. But he's a hungry one. He called me, arranged a raincheck, is what he called it. No harm, no foul if I deliver this time around. The guy is jonesing." Martin smiled at Allie and hugged her closer. "Hard to stay mad at the butcher, if he's the only one around."
He looked at Carl's case. "That the money?"
Carl nodded. "Is that the girl?"
Martin held Allie tight against him. "No," he said.
Allie sagged against him, too confused to speak.
"Then where is she, come on, we got to get her cold-cased and out on the next commuter back to Vegas," Carl groused.
Martin walked to the bathroom door and popped the lock with one hard twist of the handle. He motioned for the men to join him. Allie stood up. Her legs felt rubbery. She sat back down again, hard. From the bathroom, she heard a high-pitched squeal and then a sickening thump-- flesh hitting porcelain. Allie cringed. She had a handful of the bedspread gripped tight in each hand and she'd started rocking, humming to herself. She glanced from the bathroom to the unguarded door. She heard scuffling, grunts and struggling, and then the water in the tub shower came on. Allie didn't think she could handle any more of this. She stood up again and began to search for her shoes. Car keys. Purse.
"Don't go." Martin was behind her, wrapping his arms around her, nuzzling her hair. He was steamy from the shower, his chest was damp against her back. His hair curled and tickled her neck when he bent to kiss her there. He had stripped to his shorts.
"I go out for burgers and you go out for girl?" She twisted around to face him, shaking her head and squinting at his face. "Where did she come from? How did she get here? Is there a girl back there? What the hell is going on, Martin?"
He fended off Allie's fists as she pummeled his chest. He gripped her wrists and pulled her close and said, "She came to me. Motel maid. She cleans the rooms the same time each day. Easy meat," he said. "Oh sorry. I know how you hate puns," he added.
Alllie shook her head and hissed, "I can't believe this!"
Martin drew her closer and whispered against her neck, "She fills the bill, or you do. I chose her. For Nigiri. Allie, think about it. This gets you off the hook."
Allie winced. Martin grinned, "I just can't stop with the puns today, can I?"
For the last ten minutes a rhythmic thumping had been emanating from the bathroom, the unmistakable sound of sex, but with only one voice panting, grunting. Both Martin and Allie turned as the noises stopped. She looked up at him. "Martin, I don't think I can handle this."
He kissed her. "Want to wait in the car? As soon as I'm done in here, we need to take off." As he spoke, Big Jeff lumbered past and out the door. He returned a few moments later, rolling in a large plastic container. It looked like a giant cooler with locks on top and wheels below. It barely fit past the bed. Jeff parked it outside the bathroom.
Martin squeezed Allie tight and said, "What do you say, honey? Want to stay outside?"
Allie looked out at the car, then to the bathroom. She heard squelchy wet sounds, like wet flesh against plastic. Outside, she'd be all alone. She shook her head. He tilted her chin up with one finger and kissed her softly, several times. She didn't take her eyes off him. Martin cocked his head. Hm. He spoke soft and low. "Do you want to watch, Allie?" He stared deep into her eyes. She pressed her head against his chest and held onto him, not moving. And then she nodded, and looked up at him. "A little," she said, her voice like a small child's.
Martin held her out at arm's length. "You sure? This isn't like—like last night," he said. "This is just a job." Allie nodded, but she wasn't so sure. The fire was in his eyes again. Maybe because she was going to be there, watching? Oh god, she shivered.
He took her hand and led her into the bathroom. Her grip tightened when she first saw the blond who filled the tub. She was either dead, or she was unconscious. Her body was pink, well-scrubbed. Her hair hung in wet tendrils or clung to the sides of the tub. Her lips were naturally full and red, and they were parted just enough to display a row of white, even teeth. Was she sixteen? Her body was curved, and tanned skin gave way to the barest Vs of white over her pubis and her small round breasts. Allie blushed. She felt embarrassed for the girl. She flushed even deeper when Carl turned and zipped up his fly.
Could she do this? Allie took a shaky breath as she watched Martin lift the girl's feet and tie them together. Allie snatched up a towel and worried it between her hands. He hoisted the limp girl upside down and hung her from a stepladder he'd wedged into the tub. Her hair trailed onto the floor of the tub, very near the drain. Was she breathing? Allie couldn't tell. Martin leaned in and gripped the girl's chin and pushed it down, and then he drew a scalpel across her throat and turned her a bit and the blood sprayed out against the tub walls in shockingly powerful streams. She gurgled and her eyes opened. Alive! Allie gagged and ran from the bath.
She stayed outside in the fresh air as long as she could stand to be alone. It was getting dark. Cars shot past on their way into Reno. Allie sat out on the bus stop bench and watched them. She was barefoot, and her purse was in the room. If they had a bus out here in the sticks, it didn't run at this hour. She wasn't sure she would have tried to board, even if it had stopped. About two hours after she'd run out of the room, Allie returned. A police car had slowed and the officers had given her a look. "Out of town talent," the shotgun had hollered. The cops were still hooting by the time Allie got safely inside.
Jeff was pushing the sealed container toward the door, making deep grooves in the carpet. Carl backed the van close to the room and left the double doors open. They heaved the girl and her container inside. The two men climbed into the van and disappeared. No one had said a word to her. The bathroom door was closed. She could hear the shower running. Allie needed to see him.
When Martin came out, he wore fresh dry clothes. He found Allie sitting on the bed, hands clasped, knees pressed together. He sat close to her. "You're here," he said. It sounded almost like a question.
She nodded, and suddenly she felt so tired, she slumped against him again. And she sobbed. He held her and he didn't say a word. She wiped her eyes after her crying stopped and whispered, "Can we leave now?"
Martin nodded. "Sure."
They'd driven only ten miles or so when Martin surprised Allie by pulling off the highway and driving down a country road to a small frame house. There were scattered houses spaced about five acres apart, interspersed with trees. They looked peaceful in the moonlight. "We're home," he said.
"Home?"
"I like it up here in the summer. In the winter for skiing, too," Martin said, pulling a suitcase from the trunk. He carried a grocery bag in his other hand. They went inside, turning on lights in every room. Allie was too tired to judge his decorating skills. She flopped onto a couch and waved him away when he asked her if she wanted dinner. He threw a blanket over her and tucked a pillow beneath her head.
She woke to the unmistakable smell of bacon. Maybe she was hungry, she thought. He was setting the table for himself, but he added a plate when he saw her up.
"Eggs?" he said, looking across the stove at her. She sat in a stupor at the small dining table.
"Two." She drank the coffee he'd given her and warmed her fingers around the mug.
Martin carried a platter of eggs and bacon to the table, then he busied himself in the kitchen again. Allie heard the snapping, sizzling sound of something juicy hitting a hot skillet. Fresh meat? They hadn't stopped at the market. Allie realized she was starving. She couldn't wait. She nibbled on a piece of bacon and watched him cook.
He brought in a small skillet full of sliced meat and grilled onions and set it next to his plate. She could not identify it. Wait.
"Liver?" she asked. "Ew."
Martin relished every bite. "Yes," he nodded. "Girl's."