“How’d it go?” Sherrod asked Dulce after Crystal left the club.
“The bitch has more willpower than I gave her credit for,” Dulce said shortly. “She walked out a few minutes ago.”
“You’re not the only one who underestimated her. Jingles and me figured she’d be farther along already,” he grumbled, and shook his head. “I’d have bet money she’d fuck that guy tonight for more Meth, or fuck him after she got some.”
“Was he really a big-time customer?”
“Fuck, no,” he laughed. “He’s just a regular customer who always propositions the dancers. He pays for the VIP membership, but he’s fucking cheap, and he’s always pawing the dancers and asking them to fuck him.”
Dulce laughed, and shook her head. “You are horrible,” she teased. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you tonight. I thought I’d be able to convince her to take another hit of Meth, at least, and maybe go up to the VIP room. Jingles has more work to do on her.”
Sherrod nodded. “I agree,” he said, then looked down at her. “Coming over tonight?”
“Yeah, baby,” she purred, and reached up to kiss him. “Until then, I need to go make some money.”
“How many times do I have to ask you to stop stripping and be my lady?”
She laughed. “I don’t see a ring on my finger! You haven’t even asked me to move in with you,” she pouted, and laid her hand on his chest. “I want to be with you, but you need to show me you’re serious. Until then, things are going to stay the way they are.”
“Fair enough.”
She turned and started to walk away, but turned back and snapped her fingers. “A party!”
“What?”
“Jingles should take Crystal to a party, or out on a date. She needs reassurance that it’s okay with him before she fucks anyone else. A party at one of his clubs, where she could try coke…and when that wears off, she’ll definitely be ready for some more Meth,” she grinned. “Once she’s good and stoned, Jingles could introduce her to a client, and she’d be fucking him in no time. Hell, she’d probably fuck anyone he put in front of her.”
“Damn, you are one cold, mean bitch,” Sherrod murmured, raising his eyebrows. “I thought you two were friends now or something.”
Sudden hatred twisted Dulce’s exquisite features. “Fuck that bitch! Y’know how much money I’ve lost to her? She’s never worked a day in her life, and she prances in here, takes my customers, and thinks nothing’s going to happen to her? No fucking way! I’m telling you, Sherrod, if Jingles wasn’t protecting her, the bitch would be lying dead in the street, or turning tricks on the fuckin’ corner after I got done with her.”
“Easy, now,” he urged, and laid a soothing hand on her shoulder. “Jingles has plans for Crystal, so you’ll be back to number one soon.”
Instantly she switched gears, and sweetly reached up to kiss his cheek. “Thanks, baby.”
“Thanks for the idea about a party,” he said thoughtfully. “I’ll talk to Jingles about it.”
He watched Dulce walk away, and enjoyed the view as she smiled widely at a customer, then sat down with him.
He’d considered getting more serious about her…but there were times, like tonight, when her personality switched from homicidal to sweet and innocent in the blink of an eye. It made him nervous, because if he did get serious with her, that personality would be focused solely on him. It was one of the main reasons he hadn’t moved things forward. She was gorgeous and fun in the sack…but he had to wonder whether she might just be insane.
Firmly he turned his troubled thoughts back to Crystal. Her unexpected stubborn streak made him shake his head in frustrated disgust. Fuckin’ bitch needs to learn that nothing’s free in this life.
He’d hoped she’d learn that lesson tonight.
Who could have expected her to dig down and find a surprising reserve of strength?
A party is a good fucking idea.
When the trailer door opened unexpectedly, Tim spun his chair around in surprise. He hadn’t expected Crystal to arrive home for hours yet. But his delighted smile faded away when she threw her purse on the couch and stalked back to the bedroom without sparing him a single glance.
Uh oh…Hurricane Crystal’s here.
His mid-term exam was coming up, and he needed to do well…but with Hurricane Crystal in the house, studying would be impossible. Sighing, he rose, and quietly walked down the hallway.
She’d undressed to her bra and panties, and was searching through her drawer when he stepped into the bedroom. Lust slammed into his belly when he saw her nearly naked; they hadn’t had sex in weeks, and he missed her terribly.
“Hey, Crystal,” he murmured.
She jumped and whipped around, holding a T-shirt in front of her. In the brief instant before she turned away to finish dressing, he saw her expression change from surprised to happy, then to irritated. The first two he could understand; the third one baffled him. They rarely even saw each other these days, so how could he have irritated her?
Unless she’s already given up on your marriage, dude.
“What are you doing home?” she snapped.
“Um, I live here? It seemed like a good place to study, sleep, and…I don’t know…share with my wife.” His initial attempt at humor faded quickly when she just looked coldly at him. “Sorry to bother you.”
“I thought you’d be out studying with your girlfriend,” she said shortly.
“What? Girlfriend?” He blinked at her in stunned amazement. “Are you serious?”
“Well, you’re with her all the time.”
Her sulky tone made him shake his head in disbelief. “Yeah, studying…but that’s it. That’s all.” Then he narrowed his eyes. “Can you say the same?”
“Fuck you,” she spat. “I don’t fuck customers!”
“How about club owners?”
Silence echoed like thunder as they glared daggers at each other. Finally she sighed, and held up her hand. “Look, I had a really shitty night tonight, and that’s why I’m home early. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. Let’s not make it into anything more than that, okay?”
He hadn’t thought he could feel worse about the situation, but he’d found out he was wrong. She hadn’t answered his question. Feeling the pain all the way to his bones, he turned and left the bedroom.
“Tim?” Her angry voice followed him into the short hallway. “Tim!”
He ignored her, and slumped back into his chair. The pages of his textbook blurred as he stared blindly through them.
Accounting had become his security blanket, his way out of this fuckin’ trailer, and his ticket to a new life. But she obviously didn’t want any part of that new life. Why had he ever let her start stripping?
Like I could have stopped her. Has she ever listened to me, or anyone who gave her advice? No, she’s always done what she wanted, and relied on someone else to pick up the pieces when things went to shit.
LeAnn wouldn’t act this way.
Fuck!
Thinking about LeAnn was worse than useless; it only twisted the knife deeper. She wouldn’t want or need this kind of drama. It was seedy and ugly, and would only push her away. Even if, by some miracle, she did want him as more than a friend, she wouldn’t want a husband with this kind of baggage.
Crystal marched past him a few minutes later, dressed to kill in a sexy club-hopping dress and sparkly heels. “You’re an asshole!” she said hotly. “I come home to spend time with you, and you don’t even care! All you care about is yourself, and your stupid college stuff!”
The injustice of that made him burst into caustic laughter. “You’re full of shit, and you know it!” he retorted. “You came home because something happened at the club tonight. You’re not here, or dressed like that, because you want to spend time with me!”
“Fuck you, Tim!” she said angrily, then yanked open the door. “You don’t know shit!”
“Going out to score drugs, Crystal?” His voice was suddenly very quiet. “Got a habit you need to feed?”
If he’d lost his temper, shouted at her, thrown things around the trailer, he couldn’t have broken through her defensive shell. She’d seen that all too often growing up; she could have ignored it and simply stalked out of the trailer. The soft, somber pain in his voice stopped her cold, and sliced right into her heart.
“God, I’m so sorry!” Sobbing, she sank down onto her knees, then curled into a fetal position. “I’m so sorry!”
Anxiously he scooped her into his arms, and carried her back to the bedroom. She was so light! She didn’t look abnormally thin or unhealthy, but she’d lost so much weight!
“Shhhh. We can fix it, Crystal,” he whispered. “Whatever’s wrong, we can fix it.”
He laid her on the bed, slipped off her shoes, and covered her with a light blanket. Then he stretched out beside her, and held her while she cried.
Within two minutes, she was fast asleep. He’d never seen exhaustion claim her so fast; her reserves were totally gone.
At first he checked on her every fifteen minutes, then decided she was going to sleep through the night. Quietly he dimmed the lights, leaving only a small nightlight burning, then returned to the living room.
Her purse had spilled out across the carpet when she’d collapsed. Though he knew it was wrong, he couldn’t resist searching it for drugs. To his relief, he found nothing incriminating: no pipe, no plastic bag of crystals, no tin foil squares, not even a chemical smell inside it.
He’d researched Meth thoroughly, and learned how to detect if someone was using. She might not have had any in her stylish leather purse, but all the physical signs were there. She was losing weight, had mood swings that verged on paranoia, and she was obviously exhausted. Maybe it was just from working so hard, or being upset and suspicious about LeAnn. But what if she hadn’t stopped using Meth like she’d promised?
An incoming text message made her phone vibrate. He wasn’t surprised to find that she’d switched her password; it was only more proof of how she’d changed over the past few years.
There were several unread texts, missed calls, and voicemails. He could only read the last text that showed up on her display:
You okay? Sherrod said you left the club early. Worried. Call when you can.
Someone—probably the club owner—was concerned about her. It sounded perfectly innocuous; there was no smoking gun, no clear evidence of drug use, or proof that she was having an affair. What if his suspicions were wrong?
Sighing, he turned off her phone, and plugged it into the charger. She probably wouldn’t care, but he didn’t want her phone battery to die.
He studied until he couldn’t keep his eyes open, then slept on the couch. When he checked on Crystal the next morning, and found her still sleeping so soundly that she wouldn’t even mumble or roll over, he felt a moment’s icy panic. But her pulse was strong, and her breathing was normal and steady. She was just totally worn out.
Before he left for work, he scribbled a quick note, and left it on the bathroom mirror.
Crystal,
I don’t know where we got lost, but I’d like to find each other again.
My life begins and ends with you.
Please don’t give up on us.
Tim
An intense Meth craving woke Crystal. She lay in bed, breathing deeply until it passed. Every muscle in her body ached, and she felt tired and listless.
Her emotions were a messy tangle of sadness and resentment. She wished Tim hadn’t already left for work, because she missed him…but at the same time she was glad he couldn’t see her suffer through Meth cravings. It wasn’t fair that he disapproved of her habit, she thought self-righteously; she couldn’t bring herself to consider life without the drug, and it would be so much easier all around if he’d just give in and accept it.
It’s part of my life, and it makes me a better person. I shouldn’t have to give it up. I shouldn’t have to feel like shit just to please him.
Tim’s my husband and…well, he’s my husband, she thought, unable to finish the familiar mantra when she felt so sick and so angry. But Jingles is my lover, my supplier. He makes me feel alive. God, I miss him so much!
The man and the drug seemed to blend in her mind, because both of them gave her overwhelming pleasure. She rolled onto her side and curled into a fetal position, still battling the fierce craving, and hoped he’d be back at the club tonight.
When she finally felt strong enough, she ventured into the bathroom, then into the kitchen. Normally she skipped breakfast, but today she was starving. Tim must have gone shopping recently, because the refrigerator was full. She poured herself a bowl of sugary cereal, and crunched her way through it.
Would it really have been a big deal to fuck that customer? she mused as she tried to ignore her body’s imperious complaints. No…I’ve fucked other guys I didn’t care about. Hell, I’m doing the same now every time I fuck Tim.
But you’ve never fucked anyone for money. You’re not a whore or a prostitute!
It would help Jingles.
He wouldn’t want you anymore. He’d drop you like a bad habit, just like every guy in high school did after they fucked you.
Maybe he would still want me, if he understands I’m doing it to help his business. Would Tim?
Tim will always want me. He’ll always forgive me.
She finished her cereal, and rinsed her bowl. A hot shower would make her feel better, she decided. She always thought more clearly after the steaming water pounded her aches away.
She didn’t notice the soggy post-it note on the bathroom mirror until she turned off the cooling water and stepped out. The ink was smeared beyond legibility, and she couldn’t figure out what it said. Tim must have left it, she thought with a renewed trace of irritation. Probably telling me to stay off Meth.
When she looked for her phone, and found it on the charger, she couldn’t help smiling. He must have plugged it in; he was always thinking of the little things.
Page after page of text messages scrolled down the screen when she turned it on, and she listened with a growing smile to the voicemails. They were evenly split between Jingles, Sherrod, and Shane.
Sherrod was sorry. Jingles was worried. Shane wanted to know if she could make deliveries this afternoon.
They all cared about her…unlike Tim, who only cared about school.
That’s not true, she thought with a guilty pang. He does care about me. He just doesn’t care about the things that are important to me.
She called Jingles first, and left him a reassuring message; she was fine, and she missed him. Her voicemail to Sherrod was cold; she hoped he’d get the hint that she was still pissed at him. Finally she texted Shane and let him know she’d woken up late, but was available for deliveries. She added a P.S., asking about Raven, but didn’t expect a response.
I don’t know why she hates me now. It’s like we were never friends.
Since he’d gotten involved with Raven, he’d turned cold and distant. He was all business with Crystal now. It was Raven’s doing, she thought; she’d been friends with both of them, but after they’d hooked up, they’d cut her adrift. Raven had made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that he was off-limits now.
She’s become such a bitch.
She’d missed them at first; they both been magnificent lovers. But she had Jingles now, she reminded herself, and he was even more amazing.
I want to get serious with you. His deep voice echoed in her ears, and her heart raced a little faster. Serious with Jingles? She was definitely open to that possibility! He was fun, exciting, dangerous, and he was okay with her drug use. He was also rich, and he didn’t want her to have babies…at least not right away.
He was just the opposite of Tim.
Calm down, she sternly reminded herself. He hasn’t asked you to marry him.
What if he did?
Confused, she buried her face in her hands, and tried to sort out her feelings.
The phone’s vibration snapped her back, and she checked her text. He’d written,
Damn, girl. Don’t ever make me worry like that again.
Smiling, she sent him a return message.
I’m sorry, baby. I fell asleep last night, and woke up late. Forgive me?
His terse reply made hot tingles spread all over her body:
If it happens again, I’m coming to get you. You can sleep late at my place.
The thought of spending the night with him was intoxicating. Even just thinking about waking up to his gorgeous face, hard body, and amazing attributes made her quiver with excitement. Her fingers trembled as she replied,
In that case, I’ll make sure it happens again. I’d like to wake up next to you!
His response made her bounce up and down on the sofa with rising excitement.
Party tonight. Wanna be my date?
Yes! Definitely yes!
She waited with bated breath for his reply.
Cool. Bring some party clothes with you today. We’ll leave from the club.
Eagerly she typed,
Sounds great. I can’t wait!
His reply this time made her feel warm and fuzzy inside.
Miss me?
You have no idea how much I miss you!
She could almost see his satisfied smile when he responded,
Good. You’ll wake up next to me tomorrow.
Her eyes began to gleam with pleasure.
Promise?
He didn’t respond that time, and she felt a stab of disappointment. He’d probably just gotten busy, though; he was such a busy man.
She ran to the bedroom and began rifling through her clothes, trying to find something nice to wear. But nothing suited her mood or the occasion, and she began to frown.
I need something new, she decided. Oh, and a trip to the salon!
She rarely touched the thick rolls of cash in their little safe, but now she opened it and counted out two thousand dollars. She was already planning when she texted Shane to ask if she could pick up the coolers early. That would give her plenty of time to visit the salon first, then make her deliveries.
She smiled as she envisioned Jingles’ face. He’s going to get real serious after he sees me tonight.
Crystal left the salon several hours later feeling happy, sexy, and excited about her upcoming evening with Jingles. Her excitement even helped her handle the Meth cravings which were hitting her body regularly now. She’d had her nails and hair done, and she’d even had herself waxed completely bare. She couldn’t wait to surprise him, and see his amazed face…and then bury himself deep inside her.
I can’t wait for tonight! Yay! Jingles is taking me out!
Even though she was dressed in street clothes, she got whistles and appraising looks at each delivery. A few of the guys asked for her phone number, and one of them even asked her to stick around a while. None of them were rude, or came close to touching her, but their desire was obvious. Several of them were really cute…if she wasn’t seeing Jingles, she might have been tempted to stick around.
Nope, not today. My man is waiting for me.
My man?
As usual, she saved Jingles’ delivery for last. She practically floated through the double-doors and into the club. The bartender smiled approvingly when she waltzed in and laid her cooler on the long bar. “Wow, you look great!” he complimented her. “Jingles is up in his office.”
She winked at him, and hurried upstairs.
When she softly knocked and entered his office, he was watching TV across the room. He glanced up with a welcoming smile…and she couldn’t contain herself any longer. Laughing, she launched herself onto his lap.
They kissed passionately for several minutes. Then he eased back with a laugh of his own. “Down, girl!” he teased. “Damn, I’m going to have to be gone more often!”
“Please don’t,” she quickly implored. “I miss you too much when you’re gone.” She played with the buttons on his shirt, then slid her hands beneath to caress his chest. “I miss you so much!”
His eyes narrowed a little. “I got a business to run, baby.”
“I know.” She swiftly nodded, then smiled. “So tell me about this party! I went to the salon today, can you tell?”
“Hell, yes!” he said emphatically. “Shit, half the guys you delivered to today called and asked if you could stay and party with them!”
“Is that right?” She rolled her eyes, then added, more seriously, “I only party with you. You’re my man, and I belong to you.”
“You do, huh?” His smile widened.
She leaned down to kiss him. “Yes.”
“Well, that’s good, because tonight is going to be business and pleasure,” he said lightly. “We’re going to another of my clubs, and I’m entertaining my current business partners, plus a few potential business partners.”
“Sounds fun! What kind of business partners?”
His smile vanished. “Important business partners. That’s all you need to know.”
“Okay.” Uncertainly she nodded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
“That’s okay, but you should know better.” His lips thinned into a tight line. “Now it’s important that my meeting go smoothly tonight. Understood?”
“Can I help with anything?”
“Yeah.” He nodded, and smiled again. “You can look gorgeous, and stay on my arm. Can you do that?”
“Definitely!”
“Good. You’ll get asked to dance tonight…as good as you look, I guarantee it,” he said with a teasing wink. “That’s fine; it’s okay with me if you dance with other guys.”
Crystal frowned a little. “I thought I was with you,” she murmured. “I don’t want to dance with anyone else.”
“Damn, girl, you are with me!” he exclaimed. “But these are friends, and people who do a lot of business with me. A guy buys a million dollars of my product and wants to dance with my girl, I’m going to let him. That’s just good business.”
Very slowly she eased off his lap, and moved to an empty chair.
“Now what’s wrong?” he demanded.
She twined her fingers together and stared at them, trying to hide the tears that were starting to flood her eyes. “Nothing.”
“Don’t tell me nothing. What the fuck is wrong?”
How could she explain this bone-deep terror that he was trying to get rid of her, just like the boys in high school had, without sounding like a clinging, possessive female?
“I want to be with you, Jingles,” she softly implored. “I want to be on your arm, and be your lady. I don’t want to be passed around to your friends and business partners.”
The anger that filled his eyes frightened her, because he was normally so controlled. She gulped when he rose and walked over to his desk.
“Please don’t be mad at me! I just want to be with you.”
“I’m not mad, Crystal,” he said crisply. “Tell you what, why don’t you just stay here tonight, and work your regular shift.” He offered her a plastic smile, and sat down. “You look great, and you should make a lot of money.”
His mood had shifted so fast from warm and inviting to cold and distant that she didn’t know how to respond. Finally she whispered, “Why is it so important to share me? Sherrod wanted to share me with a customer last night, and you want to share me with your friends tonight.” Helplessly she shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
He hesitated for so long that despair chased across her face, and she turned to leave the room. His cool voice stopped her. “It’s just part of my business. I thought you understood. I’m not a fucking accountant…”
Before she could respond to that slur against Tim, he ruefully shook his head. “Listen, just forget it. Forget I mentioned anything. Just work your regular shift.”
Frustration made her voice break. “Jingles, don’t do this. I just want to be with you. Why can’t I just be with you?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea anymore.” He dismissed her with a single cool gesture, and began studying some papers spread across his desk. “Look, it’s been fun for both of us…but things change, and it’s probably for the best.”
“No, it’s not for the best!” she insisted. “Stop it, Jingles!”
His voice rose slightly as he looked up at her again. “You’re fucking married, Crystal. Where did you think this was going?”
Angrily she walked back to his desk, and glared down at him. “You said you wanted to get serious with me.”
Impatiently he leaned back, and glared back at her. “How the fuck am I supposed to get serious with someone who doesn’t understand my business? What do you think you deliver every week? Ice cream? Damn, girl! You think I do business with fine, upstanding members of the community? People who go to church on Sundays and teach Sunday school?”
She swallowed hard. “No.”
“Fuckin’ right. You can’t be in my business halfway!” he snapped, then lowered his voice. “Halfway gets people killed, Crystal.”
When she only nodded and wiped her eyes, he gentled his voice even more. “Honestly, baby, you’re married to a normal guy, he loves you, and he’s going to provide for you. A few years from now, you’ll be living in the suburbs with two and a half kids, and all this will be behind you. That’s your future, and it’s probably best that you accept it.”
Let’s see if a little reverse psychology works, he thought, studying her carefully. He was betting it would…and before the night was over, she’d be on his arm at the party.
Another Meth craving washed over her; he saw the way she closed her eyes and breathed slowly until it passed. Without serious rehabilitation, she wouldn’t be able to control those cravings.
C’mon, Crystal. C’mon, girl. That’s a good girl. Give in…you know you want to.
He waited calmly while she searched his face, and waited for her to respond. Finally she sighed. “You’re just asking me to dance, right?” she asked carefully. “Nothing else?”
Good girl, Crystal. Now roll over like a good dog. That’s a good girl.
“Just dance,” he nodded. “That’s all I’m asking of you, and it might not even be necessary. You’ll be in control—and if anything more happens, it’ll be your decision.”
She nodded slowly, then leaned down to kiss him. He startled her by yanking her into his lap; giggling, she melted against him. “I’m not ready to lose you,” she admitted, and kissed him again. “I’ll dance with your friends.”
Damned right, you will! I’m going to train you to fetch and come on command, Crystal. You’re definitely going to learn that last one, my little bitch!
“I don’t want to lose you, either, especially not to some suburban white guy,” he mocked, then kissed her again. “You don’t belong in the ’burbs, baby. You belong with someone who can take care of you, and see to your needs.”
“Speaking of needs…” Shyly she nodded toward his safe.
“Tonight, baby.”
She was disappointed, but tried not to show it. “I’d better go get dressed, then.”
“Damn right,” he said, and lightly slapped her ass. “You have some time, though, because we don’t need to leave for a few hours.”
She yelped, then laughed and skipped out of the room. At the door she hesitated, and blew him a kiss. “I’ll be ready.”
“Reverse psychology,” he muttered under his breath after she left. “Works every time.”
Tonight wasn’t about sharing Crystal; that was only a distraction. He’d just wanted to see if she’d fight their relationship. She definitely didn’t want to stop seeing him…so now he’d focus on building her trust. They’d been casual lovers until now, with her torn between her husband and suburban life and Jingles and his club. It was time for her to pick a side. He was sure she’d pick him. He had the lifestyle she loved, the drugs she needed, and he was everything her husband wasn’t. That made all the difference. He just needed to forge a stronger emotional connection with her.
I’ll do that tonight.
He didn’t need another bitch turning tricks on the streets until she disappeared into a whorehouse south of the border. He already had too many of those women.
No…I need a high-class, high-dollar bitch, and Crystal is perfect, he thought to himself. Time. She just needs time, a little emotional attention, and more Meth.