Jingles answered his phone. “Yeah?”
“Hey,” Shane replied. “I got a new girl making deliveries today and maybe tomorrow, ’cause Crystal can’t make it.”
“Anything to worry about?”
“No. Marital problems, I guess.”
“Cool. Thanks for the call.” Jingles said goodbye, then leaned back in his comfortable office chair to wait for his senior officers to arrive and discuss business. Business was good; he made sure it stayed that way by calling regular meetings and grilling the shit out of his people. He didn’t mind delegating the work, but he damned well wanted to make sure they were taking proper care of his businesses. A little time spent dancing on hot coals kept them sharp.
Fuckers better not be slacking off!
Idly he flipped TV channels, then listened to a commentary about last night’s big game. The bet he’d made had paid off nicely, and he already knew what he’d do with the money.
Then his phone vibrated again, and his smile vanished when he read Crystal’s text message.
Threatened her husband? Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?
He didn’t give a shit about Crystal’s wimpy husband, but he’d invested a lot of time and effort in convincing her to dance at his club. His customers loved her, she was making great money, and he’d finally gotten her to spread her legs. Her Meth habit was coming along nicely, too. He had big plans for her—plans that would bring him a lot of money. Sherrod threatening her husband at this point risked all his plans.
Swearing under his breath, he called Sherrod. “Where are you?” he asked without even a cursory greeting.
“On my way, boss,” Sherrod said easily. “I’ll be there in about five minutes.”
“Good.” He hung up, and took a deep calming breath. Sherrod was his best lieutenant, and he normally made good business decisions. He decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, and wait to hear what he had to say about last night.
Despite that, his voice was harsh when one of his bodyguards softly knocked on his door a few minutes later. “Come in!”
Sherrod stepped in, carrying coffee and donuts. Cheerfully he set the donuts on Jingles desk, and handed him a steaming cup. Then he settled down into a chair and took a sip of his own. “How’s it going, boss?”
Irritation flashed in Jingles’ dark eyes. “What the fuck happened with Crystal’s husband last night?”
He’d hoped to catch Sherrod off-guard with his blunt question, but the man only leaned forward and set his cup on the edge of Jingles’ big desk. “I was going to tell you about that first thing,” he said crisply. “So the white guy comes into the club, and I’m on him about two minutes later. I cornered him at the bar, and gave him the welcome speech. He was cool at first, but then he saw Crystal on your arm, and just about took off. He was headed straight for both of you. I held him back, and then he told me he was Crystal’s husband.
“He said he just wanted to talk to her, but I could see he was going to make trouble, so I told him no. Then he said he’d wait until closing.”
Jingles snorted. “Why didn’t you just let him, then send him on his way?”
“Boss, you and Crystal had just gone up to the VIP area,” he said, and flashed Jingles a meaningful look.
Jingles’ blood stirred a little as he remembered having Crystal put on a private naked show for him…before he’d fucked her brains out from one end of the VIP area to the other. They hadn’t come back down until the club had closed for the night.
Damn, the little snow-bunny can fuck!
He’d wanted to fuck her in there because high definition cameras were hidden all over the room, and he’d wanted her on tape. Watching the video this morning had made him hard all over again; she was just as hot on film as she was in person. He’d had one of his people edit his face out of the video, and make explicit one-minute video clips of her. They’d been mailed to specific contacts all across the country and overseas.
She’s a potential goldmine. I’m not sure if I should sell her outright, or put her to work in another city and sell her later. I’ll wait and see what offers I get for her first.
“Bottom line,” Sherrod continued, and he quickly recalled himself, “I wanted to put a little fear into the cracker, and make sure he respected the club.” He chuckled. “From the look in his eyes, he believed everything I told him. He just about pissed himself, and sprinted out like a jackrabbit!”
Jingles leaned back in his chair and considered his lieutenant’s story. Sherrod hadn’t wasted any time confronting Tim, and he’d prevented a scene in the club. All that was good. “Okay,” he said, and smiled reassuringly across the desk. “You did fine. But if something like this ever happens again, don’t scare the guy so much the first time.
“We have time to work on Crystal’s husband…but if you scare him too much, too soon, he might go to the police, or convince her to stop stripping.”
Sherrod soberly nodded. “I hear you, boss. Sorry.”
“No need to be sorry.” It was already done, and there was no way to fix that. “Don’t worry about it. Crystal’s hooked, and she’ll be back. She already texted me, and told me she wants to get the tattoos and piercings we talked about.”
“Nice.” Sherrod drawled the word to emphasize his delight. “That’s good news.”
“Yeah. She also said she wants to quit Meth.”
That was a little more worrisome. If she could kick Meth, she’d probably stop working for Jingles, or switch to another club. His investment would be lost. “Think she can do it?”
“Hell, no.” Jingles waved a dismissive hand. “I’ve been watching her. I give it three days, a week tops, before she’s back and begging for more.”
“What will you do then?”
“First,” he said harshly, “I’m going to make her start paying for the shit. That’s important, because it changes the nature of our relationship. I want her to realize that she needs Meth enough to either pay me for it, or fuck me for it. It’s not just a party favor anymore.
“I need to talk with Shane first, though, because she still technically belongs to our business partners. I don’t want to fuck up their end, so I’ll wait to hear from them.”
“She still needs to be divorced, though, right?”
“Yes.” Jingles nodded. “I’m working on that, too. If I need help, I’ll let you know. It shouldn’t be a problem, though, because I’m going to give her the song and dance about getting serious, and taking our ‘relationship’ to the next level.” He rolled his eyes in mocking disgust. “If she won’t leave her husband, we’ll take more drastic measures. The plan you outlined is a good one, and her husband can disappear into the prison system. That’ll definitely make her divorce him and look elsewhere.”
“I can have Dulce talk to her, if you want,” Sherrod offered. “Help her along.”
It was something to keep in mind. He nodded noncommittally, then glanced toward the door when his bodyguard knocked again. “We’ll discuss it more later,” he said quietly.
At his curt welcome, the door opened, and his other managers hurried in. He started discussing business with them as soon as they were seated.
Crystal took the entire weekend off, and spent every day with Tim. They spent almost every minute together. They drove into San Antonio, had a nice dinner, and went to see a movie. They held hands and kissed a lot, and behaved like giddy newlyweds.
It was great. It was fun. And for Crystal, it was excruciating.
She could hardly wait for Monday morning to roll around so she could kiss Tim goodbye and send him to work. Then reality settled in. All weekend long, her Meth cravings had grown stronger and stronger, until she could barely focus on anything else. Now her hands were starting to shake slightly.
I’m in control, damn it. I’m in control! Meth doesn’t control me! I’ll just reduce the amount I use, and taper off gradually.
Since she was available for deliveries again, she texted Shane first, then sent a longer text to Jingles. She missed him desperately, and couldn’t wait to get more Meth. She didn’t mention that in her message; she’d decided to talk to him about it in person later that evening. She’d already abandoned her resolution to quit the powerful drug entirely.
I’ll just use it when my cravings get really bad. Eventually I’ll wean myself off it completely.
She’d agreed to Tim’s request that she switch back to Joe’s club, but she wasn’t going back fulltime, only enough to make him happy. She still planned to dance for Jingles whenever she could. Tim wouldn’t be happy with that after the way Sherrod had threatened him, and Jingles wouldn’t be happy, either. But it was the only way she could see to keep everyone from getting thoroughly pissed off. Half was better than nothing, she thought as she stepped into the shower.
Suddenly another craving hit her, and she nearly groaned. She’d been able to dismiss them all weekend, but this was stronger, deeper.
You can do this, she reminded herself. You’re in control. You’ll see Jingles tonight, and use a little Meth. But only a little. You’ll be able to wait even longer the next time. Eventually you won’t have cravings anymore. Just slowly reduce how much you use.
Keeping busy was the key, so she decided to clean the trailer. She started in the kitchen, and slowly worked her way to the living room.
When her phone buzzed, she decided to take a break. Soda in hand, she dropped onto the couch to read Shane’s incoming text.
Glad you’re back. I’ll send you the pickup address. Same time as usual. You’ll get a new phone and the delivery addresses later.
She immediately texted back.
Sounds good. Thx.
Cleaning the trailer had kept her busy, and she’d managed to forget her cravings for a while. She felt stronger, more in control, as she went back to cleaning. In a few hours, the entire trailer sparkled. She basked in the shower again until her skin started to prune.
When she finally stepped back out, she took a closer look at her reflection. She’d lost weight. Not a lot, and most people wouldn’t notice, but she did. She made a mental note to eat more regularly.
The cravings returned, even stronger this time, while she was getting dressed again.
They were like an alarm clock, she thought with growing concern. She hit the snooze button again and again, but they just kept coming back stronger and stronger. Could she really manage to give up Meth?
I’m in control, she assured herself as she focused on getting ready. I’m not a Meth addict. I’m in control!
She made it to the pickup location with plenty of time to spare, so she detoured into her favorite fast-food joint for a burger and soda. The high-calorie foods helped ease her cravings a little, and she thanked her good genes and fast metabolism for letting her eat anything she wanted without getting fat.
She was still early, and the coolers weren’t ready yet, so she waited patiently in her car, whittling away time by surfing the net.
“Hey, Crystal.”
The deep voice at her window made her jerk around. She quickly summoned her best fake smile. “Cliff.”
He noticed the way her gaze skimmed over his black leather jacket and colorful patches, and grinned. “Yeah, I’m with the club now. I’m almost a patched member.”
“Good for you,” she said neutrally. “I remember hearing you’d joined the club.”
“I’ve been a Prospect for a while,” he bragged. “I’m surprised we haven’t run into each other before now. Are you here for the coolers?”
She barely resisted rolling her eyes. Cliff was trying to act casual and cool, but she’d seen his act before. It had been cheesy in high school; now it was just sad and pathetic. His biker jacket didn’t change him; in fact, it only made him worse. He wasn’t a bad guy, and he was even attractive. But he was so stuck on himself that his personality suffocated anyone who got close to him.
Silently she sighed, and resigned herself to dealing with him until the coolers were ready. “Yes.”
“Sweet!” His eyes gleamed with delight. “We’ll be seeing a lot of each other, then.”
“I doubt it,” she retorted coolly. “I usually don’t even stop. Normally I just pop my trunk, and they put the coolers inside. We don’t talk, and I think the club wants it that way.”
Now his grin turned lecherous. “Crystal, Crystal! We’re friends, and we have history! I wouldn’t ask you to pop your trunk without at least talking to you first!”
His sly wink and shit-eating grin nearly made her throw up. The thinly-veiled reference was cheap, transparent, and exactly like him. Fucking douchebag.
This time her sigh was loud and exasperated. She stared straight ahead, and prayed that someone would hurry up with the coolers.
“I was just kidding.” He sounded sulky, then raked a hand through his hair. “Okay, I’m sorry. That was out of line.”
“Yes, it was.” She shot him a single cold glare. “Why do you have to be such a fuckin’ prick?”
“Look, I know I can be a real shit…but I’m trying to change, really I am,” he insisted, ramming his fist into his palm. “I’ve always really liked you. You helped me a lot when we worked at the Mariner, and I’d like to get back to that point.”
“Cliff…”
He cut off her quick retort with an urgent gesture. “Please just hear me out, okay? Please!”
Simple politeness demanded that much, so she subsided. His look of relief was almost comical. “I just want us to be able to talk to each other,” he said earnestly. “That’s all.”
“That’s it?” She eyed him with open skepticism.
“That’s it. I’m not going to bullshit you,” he promised. “I like you. I want to be more than friends. But having you as a friend is enough for now. We can build on that foundation. You don’t know how much you mean to me…if you did, you’d take me more seriously.”
“I’m married,” she reminded him. “You know that. Tim is my husband.”
“I know that, damn it…and you married the wrong person!” he snarled. “I’m serious! Tim isn’t the right man for you…and everyone who knows you both realizes that you got married way too young. You’re completely different people. It’s just a matter of time before you grow in different directions!”
His outburst startled her into protesting, “That’s not true! Besides, what the hell do you know about marriage?”
“I don’t know a damned thing about it, and you know it,” he snapped. “But here’s what I know about relationships: you can’t have secrets. It doesn’t work. I’ll bet Tim doesn’t know about your deliveries, does he?”
He’d struck home, and she fell silent. She wasn’t sure how to respond, but she damned well wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of the truth.
“Where are the coolers?” she finally demanded, glaring up at him.
His broad shoulders sagged. “I’ll go get them,” he sighed.
Imagine his nerve! she fumed as she watched him disappear into the building. She’d never encouraged him, but he was like a dog with a bone. He just wouldn’t give up.
Sure, it was flattering…but mostly she was just infuriated.
Tim was her husband…her future…and just because he didn’t know about her deliveries, that didn’t make him the wrong man for her.
It’s none of Cliff’s fucking business anyway.
He returned a few minutes later with three coolers. She pulled on the trunk lever, felt the thumps as he set them inside, and then the car vibrated as he slammed the lid. She started her car, then hesitated when he returned to stand by her window.
“What is it, Cliff?” she demanded.
He didn’t respond right away; simply stared down at her with crossed arms and a sober face. Finally he leaned closer, and his eyes softened. “You wouldn’t have to keep any secrets from me…not ever,” he said quietly. “I’ll change for you, and I’ll always be there for you. That’s a promise. We’re the same, Crystal, and you could be yourself…your real self…with me. I’d never put limits on you. I know I can make you happy if you’ll just give me a chance.”
She blinked up at him in amazement. He looked so vulnerable, so defenseless! She’d never seen him this way before, and felt the hard knot of anger in her chest soften a little. “Okay, Cliff,” she murmured, reaching up to lightly squeeze his arm. “Let’s continue to talk to each other.”
That made him beam again. “Sounds good…and thank you.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She waved off his obvious delight, then slyly grinned. “Who knows? I might even end up liking you again.”
That made him laugh as he handed her an envelope, then stepped back and let her drive away.
She wondered, as she saw him wave in the rearview mirror, whether talking with him was wise. She didn’t want to encourage him. Had he taken her last mocking statement too seriously?
Oh, well. I’ve been dealing with guys like Cliff since I was fourteen. It’s nothing new. Besides, he is good-looking. Maybe he will change. I wouldn’t leave Tim for him, but maybe I can help him find someone else.
As usual, she received the delivery addresses on her way, and stopped briefly to retrieve the first one from her GPS’s memory. She still relied on the clever little unit, despite having been to the same places several times. It was added security to keep her from getting lost, and she’d gotten into the habit of using it.
When she finally reached Jingles’ club, she laid the cooler on the bar, and greeted him with a wide smile. “Hey, handsome! Miss me?”
“What’s up, girl?” Grinning, he hugged her tightly. “Damned right I missed you!”
“Mmmm!” she hummed seductively. “I missed you, too.”
The bartender poured her a soda, then took the cooler in back. She climbed onto a barstool, and Jingles sat down beside her. “You okay, baby?”
She nodded. “Yeah, why?”
He looked at her carefully, then gently clasped her hand in a comforting squeeze. “Your text. Marital problems. Sherrod. Meth. Is everything okay? I worry about you.”
His obvious sympathy made her feel warm and safe. “Tim didn’t know how often I dance here,” she explained. “He went to Joe’s club the other night, and learned that I hadn’t been there for a long time, so he came here to ask me about it…and ran into Sherrod.” Suddenly her eyes narrowed, and she waggled a finger at him. “Why the hell would he threaten my husband when Tim just wanted to talk to me?”
Jingles’ eyes went cold, but his expression remained calm. “Let’s discuss this in private,” he commanded, sliding off his barstool. “Now, Crystal.”
Her eyebrows rose in surprise. Had she done something wrong? Jingles didn’t get angry, but when he got quiet and still, it was even worse than anger. Obediently she followed him, taking care not to touch him.
He held his office door open, then firmly closed it behind her. “Sit.”
“Baby, wha…?”
His eyes went flat. “Sit the fuck down, Crystal,” he snapped, pointing at the couch.
Gulping, she quickly complied, and nervously ran her hands over her legs. Why was he upset; what had she said or done?
He poured himself a drink before settling in the chair across from her. Then he leaned forward, and fixed her with a steely gaze. “First of all, Sherrod runs this club, so don’t you ever fucking second-guess him again, understood?”
She flinched a little, and whispered, “Yes,” in a shaky voice.
“Second, he didn’t threaten your husband. What he did tell him was absolutely true. You’re not delivering Chinese food, and I won’t tolerate problems in this club. Not from anyone, especially not from someone who works for a business partner.” He hesitated briefly, then added, “Or her husband.”
“I’m sor…”
“Shut up and listen,” he interrupted her, and this time his irritation was clearly audible. “Finally, Sherrod kept Tim from coming to see you while we were upstairs in the VIP room.”
She paled, and her eyes widened in belated understanding. “Oh, shit,” she breathed. “I’m sorry, Jingles!”
“Yeah. Sherrod made the right call, Crystal. Not just for that night, but also for the future. Now we don’t have to worry about your husband showing up unannounced and seeing anything he shouldn’t.
“Unless,” he added after a long, thoughtful pause, “you’re already tired of me.”
She launched herself off the couch, and onto his lap. Before he could react, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately.
At first she’d been scared, but as he’d explained the situation, she’d become aroused. His tone, the authority in his voice, and his assertive manner had all revved up her engine.
He laughed, and eased back a bit. “Settle down. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not quite done yet, baby.”
Chastened, she sat back and stared into his eyes. Hunger for him was even stronger than her drug craving, and she didn’t know how much longer she could wait for either.
“Meth,” he said quietly. “What’s going on, Crystal?”
She sighed in frustration. “I don’t use it that often at home, so I kept my pipe and extra bags in the safe. Tim found them.”
“He make you give it up?”
“Yeah.” Then she quickly added, “But it’s for the best anyway. I don’t need it, and it’s not good for me. I’m going to try and wean myself off it.”
He studied her carefully. “You doing okay without it?”
She rolled her eyes in disgust. “No, not really. I still have cravings, but I’m pretty sure I can control them. I’m not addicted or a security risk.”
“Of course you’re not,” he quickly assured her. “He’s just overreacting, that’s all. You’re not binging on the shit, or tweaking. It’s a recreational drug just like weed…” Then he smirked. “…or Viagra or Cialis or whatever he takes to get hard.”
“Stop it,” she frowned. “Tim doesn’t need anything to get hard.” But still she stared at him uncertainly. “Sometimes the Meth cravings scare me. That’s a bad sign, right?”
“It’s fine,” he whispered, and slowly ran his hands over her body. “I can help you with the craving. He’s treating you like a child. He doesn’t even understand what you go through when you dance, does he?”
Her eyes closed as she enjoyed the feel of his strong hands on her body. When his hands found her breasts, she softly moaned and let him massage her sensitive nipples.
“Does he?” Jingles persisted.
“No.” She breathed it on a reluctant sigh. “He doesn’t.”
“That’s right.” Triumphantly he smiled. She was putty in his hands, and he was molding her to be exactly what he wanted…not what her husband wanted. “You’re a grown woman, Crystal. He needs to accept that, and deal with it.”
Hypnotically she nodded.
“When you’re with me, or in my club, you don’t belong to Tim anymore.” Now he let his voice harden, and clasped her face in both hands. Her eyes flew open, and she stared breathlessly up at him. “You’re not married, and I’m your only man. You hear me?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Good. I’ve got some for you now. It’s all good, baby,” he said persuasively. “I said I’d take care of you, didn’t I? Do you trust me?”
She nodded vigorously.
“That’s right. Just remember, you come to me for Meth,” he said firmly, and gripped her hair tightly. Her eyes widened with mingled fear and lust. “I mean it. You come to me, and no one else. I’ll keep you safe.”
“Only you!” She gasped it, then cried out in delight when he kissed her, and began to yank off her clothes. In moments they were naked and writhing. He took her, dominated her, and used her in a dozen positions. She loved every second of it. She surrendered to his desires, his direction…and orgasm after orgasm washed through her shuddering body. His size and stamina left her breathless, barely able to move when they finally finished.
They spooned together on the couch, sated and exhausted. She felt warm and safe, and loved the feel of his lean, hard body behind hers. A contented sigh escaped her as she brought his palm to her lips in a gentle kiss.
“How you doin’, baby?” he murmured against her tangled hair.
She moaned languidly, then chuckled. “I’m doing much better now, thank you. God, you’re amazing!”
“I’m glad you think so. I don’t want you looking anywhere else,” he said firmly, and kissed her bare shoulder.
“You have nothing to worry about,” she smiled, and glanced back at him. “You’re all I can handle!”
“Is that right?” A touch of ironic humor colored his deep voice. “What about your husband?”
Crystal tensed a little. “What about him?”
“Well, are you happy with him? Does he satisfy your needs?” Jingles hesitated for a moment, then continued, “It doesn’t sound like it, Crystal.”
“Yes,” she said softly.
Snorting, he propped himself up on one elbow so he could look down at her. “Girl, the only person you’re fooling is yourself.”
Crystal blinked up at him in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, your husband isn’t right for you, and you know it.”
“You’re wrong,” she insisted. “He’s just not like you or Sherrod.”
“I’m not saying he’s a bad guy,” he conceded with an indifferent shrug. “He’s just the kind of guy who wants to put you in a box in the suburbs, so you can crank out babies for him. It’s obvious, isn’t it? Tim wants a stay-at-home mom who will support his career and raise his kids.”
“No, that’s not right,” she protested. “You don’t know Tim, and you don’t know what he wants for us.” Angrily she pulled away. “Don’t be mean.”
He eyed her skeptically. “Really? I’ll bet he can’t wait for you to stop dancing. You already said he forbade you to use drugs. He probably wants you to go back to that other club, too, doesn’t he?”
Every word hit home, and she looked away.
“You’re making great money, you’re a fantastic dancer, and you’ve got a nice job delivering for the club. I’ll bet you dollars to donuts he doesn’t give a shit about any of that, does he?”
She stared down at her lap. “No.”
“No, I’m wrong?” He paused, then ruthlessly continued, “Or no, Tim doesn’t give a shit about any of those things?”
She raked both hands through her tousled curls, then started collecting her clothes. They were scattered all over the room. Irritation showed in every movement as she tugged them on, then stared down at him.
“Please don’t push me,” she said quietly. “I’m not certain anymore about the state of my marriage, but you pushing me doesn’t help. You confuse me, and I don’t know how I feel about all this. You and me, stripping, the deliveries, fuck! It was all so clear when I started, and now it’s all messed up in my mind!”
He hid his elation behind a repentant smile. “I’m sorry I said anything.”
She nodded solemnly, then turned to leave. “I’ve got to go. I’m dancing at the other club tonight.”
“Okay. I won’t push you on your marriage,” he said quietly.
“Thank you. I do love my husband,” she insisted, then blinked away brimming tears. “But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I’m also falling for you. I don’t know what to do anymore.”
He smiled. “Do me a favor.”
“Anything!”
“Just think about what I said. You’re not the only person who’s falling for someone around here. I have feelings for you, too, and we’d be great together.” He added a note of vulnerability to his soft imploring request. “We could have a future together if you’d give me a chance.”
Crystal’s eyes widened. “I didn’t think you cared about me that way.”
“I’m very serious about you,” he said firmly, “and I want to see you more often. I’m sick of just seeing you at the club. We need to go out, have dinner, go dancing, or see a movie like a regular couple. I want to wake up next to you,” he added earnestly. “I want you in my life.”
Brimming happiness nearly overrode her stunned shock. Oh, my God! Can we have a future together? It sure sounds like that’s what he wants! What do I want?
“Just think about what I said,” he repeated, and gently squeezed her hand.
“I will,” she nodded. “I promise.”
“Thank you. Now I need to get some work done.”
She nodded, and bent down to kiss him one more time. Then she left his office, and hurried downstairs.
Jingles watched from the window as Crystal hurried across the parking lot and slid into her car, then sighed and sat down at his desk. Shane answered his phone call on the third ring.
“How’s your supply chain coming along?” he asked tersely.
The biker’s voice was clipped with barely-veiled annoyance. “Fine. Why do you ask?”
“I was just wondering if you could lose one of your delivery girls.” Jingles leaned back in his comfortable chair, and stared up at the ceiling. “Not immediately, but soon.”
Shane didn’t have to ask who he meant. “Damn, Jingles,” he grumbled. “I can’t lose her yet. She’s one of the few with a really flexible schedule, so she picks up a lot of the slack for me.”
“I get that.” The black man nodded his understanding. “Can you start planning to replace her?”
Shane sighed. “I already am. I started looking for a replacement as soon as she started dancing at your club.”
Jingles laughed. “You know me too well.”
“Yes, I do, buddy.”
“What kind of timeframe are you thinking?”
Shane considered for a moment. “Good question. I’m thinking four, maybe six months at the outside. It might be sooner, but it’s hard to tell right now. We just added three new girls to our team, so it might be sooner.”
“That works for me.”
“Yeah? How about price?” he demanded.
Jingles hesitated a moment before replying. The video he’d sent his customers had piqued considerable interest; he could put Crystal to work in a dozen cities around the country and make serious money. But his overseas clients were willing to pay an obscenely high price for her, and he was leaning in that direction.
A lot less risk, he thought seriously, especially if there are issues with her fucking husband.
His clients in the United Arab Emirates had bid the highest; natural blondes were very rare in the Middle East, and American women, in particular, were extremely valuable and popular. They had money coming out of their asses, and they were willing to pay outrageous amounts for women of Crystal’s quality.
Six figures, maybe higher if I add a sweetener like that other girl I need to unload.
“If we were doing this today, I’d stick to the $50k figure,” he said. “It’s hard to say what her condition will be in four to six months…but if she doesn’t change much, I’m thinking $35k.”
“If she doesn’t change much in six months,” Shane retorted, “I’m still thinking $50k.”
“We got time, buddy,” Jingles said soothingly. “Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it…but if she’s in good condition, I won’t haggle much.”
“Okay.”
“Always good doing business with you, Shane.”
Before he could hang up, the biker suddenly asked, “Hey, how did that other transaction work out?”
Jingles considered his answer before replying. The Blades had dropped off several women for disposal, and he’d made money each time. The last one had been especially profitable. Shane wasn’t likely to get involved in that business; it wasn’t his style at all. So he didn’t see any risk in answering, “Great. I’ve already made back my investment.”
“I’m glad it went well,” Shane nodded, “because the club wants to make more of those transactions in the future.”
He liked the sound of that. “Anytime. I just need a little advance notice, and my organization can handle any club transactions.”
After they’d hung up, he called Sherrod into his office. “What’s up?” his lieutenant asked as he took a seat across from his boss’s desk.
“Crystal.” Automatically Jingles scanned his TV monitors for a second, then met Sherrod’s keen gaze. “It should be about four to six months, so plan accordingly.”
“Sure thing, boss.” Sherrod’s loyalty was absolute; he wouldn’t have blinked at selling his beloved grandmother to the devil himself if Jingles would profit. “Are you thinking U.S. or overseas?”
“Overseas,” Jingles decided. “Initially I was thinking about having her tour the States, and lending her out to our business partners…”
“But?” Sherrod’s eyes narrowed slightly. “What changed?”
“But,” Jingles continued, “our Arab customers are throwing out big numbers. Crazy big numbers!”
Sherrod gave a low whistle. “Damn.”
“Yeah. ‘Damn’ is right!”
“And her husband?”
“He’ll be out of the picture by then. But just in case he’s not, he may need to be dealt with.” Jingles smirked, and leaned back in his chair. “I’d prefer it if Crystal divorces the little fucker. If she doesn’t, we may need to take other steps. The approach you outlined to him the other night is probably the best one, so let’s think about who we want involved…just in case. It’ll be a lot easier to deal with him if he’s locked up and awaiting trial. Prison is such a dangerous place, after all.”
“I hear you, boss. There are lots of accidents in prison, especially the county lockup. A white suburban accountant wouldn’t last a weekend.”