Me: The foolish little Cajun girl who can’t seem to stay out of trouble despite numerous beatings. Still hates Gemma worst of all, but others are quickly ascending her list.
Her: The tattooed slut from England who really can fight. She was forced to team with Joni for the fight of her life. She survived, and she still REALLY hates Joni. She and her fine butt still Rox!
Him: He's still with me…although I often wonder why. I haven’t seen him since he left for Texas to help Her in whatever her dumbass has gotten into. His name is still Joe.
Them: The duo of professional wrestlers hired to hurt me and her. The beat us pretty badly, but they ultimately failed in their mission. Of course they are the legendary team of Marie B and Kayla. Marie has a seething hatred for Joni, as well as a budding rivalry.
That Tall Mean Bitch: She was the Tall Announcer Woman in the Passionate Hatred series. Now she’s the mean bitch who really wants to make Gemma suffer. She is the lovely and humorous Jessika.
The Mysterious Bitch: Of course this would be the mysterious ‘Emma Fox.’ The driving force behind all this foolishness. For some reason, she really dislikes Me and Her. We have no clue why, but we soon find out. She is played by our favorite moderator, the lovely Jenn Peccavi…who we really hope has a sense of humor
Emma’s Right Hand Man: Emma’s most trusted emissary. We thought he was unbiased throughout our fights with Kayla and Marie B. We were very wrong. Although he still may have his own agenda. He is the sexy Canadian, Boche.
The Guy Always Lurking in the Shadows: Stormbolt7 has shown up on occasion, and he even promoted a couple of Our encounters. Will we ever find out what is motivating him? We probably wouldn’t have a story if we didn’t.
Kitten: The strange girl Boche claims he “owns.” She quickly becomes a pain in my butt.
Chapter 1
Hi! My name is Joni. I know I have told the earlier stories in a strange script-like format, but I thought I’d change this one up a little and go to a narrative script. I like changing things (just not my eyeliner. Please don’t ask why). It keeps me on my toes. Kind of like when I round a corner and nearly walk into a light post…that kind of ‘on my toes.’
The tale I’m about to share is completely true…If you believe in fantasies, that is. It’s kind of like a trip to Neverland. Except we all get old here. Especially Gemma. You should see the bags under that bitch’s eyes. Too much drinking and not enough sleep, I guess. Stupid cunt.
Oh well, back to the story. This particular day I was sitting at my computer desk…hoping for word from Joe and Gemma…surfing lingerie sites on the web when this mysterious voice told me I have mail. Whenever the voice tells me this, I immediately freeze as cold chills run up my spine! After a moment, I look around the room, but I never find whoever tells me I have mail. I check the house, but I never find anyone. I walk out to the mailbox, and I find it empty. The voice always lies to me. But strangely enough, I go back to the computer and find that someone has sent me a message. Weird, huh? I click on the message icon, and I shake my head and sigh…some one is addressing me as ‘Stupid Bitch’ again.
Dear Stupid Bitch,
Since I haven’t taunted you in a while (it’s true…she hasn’t) I thought I would drop in and torment you a little today. It’s finally time that we meet. (Ugh…I don’t want to meet this nutty whore). I’ve sent you a little present. I REALLY hope you enjoy it!
Love,
Emma
xxx
PS….I really can’t wait to see you bloody and broken at my feet. I’m wet just typing those words…..
Of course there’s an attachment with message, but I decide not to open it. I just click out and go back to my underwear website. I buy myself a cute little red nighty because I’m so distraught over Emma’s last message. Joe and his credit card will understand.
A few minutes later I get up to get something to drink. As I’m walking back from the kitchen, I hear that strange voice again! “You’ve got mail!” Using my catlike reflexes (in reality I nearly pee myself and almost fall through a closet door, but I like my version of events better), I turn quickly around charge through the house looking for the mysterious messenger. Of course the house is empty…and so is the outside mailbox. Damn lying motherfucker! But when I get back to the computer, I notice I have a new message. I shake my head but I open it anyway.
Hello again, Bitch,
Since you most likely didn’t open the last attachment I sent you, I decided to send another. But before you open it, maybe you should ask yourself where your boyfriend, his name is Joe, I believe, really is at tonight. He is with your little nemeses Gemma, isn’t he?
Sweet dreams, luv,
Emma
xxx
Oh God! What is this crazy bitch talking about now? I call Joe’s cell phone, but I get no response. That doesn’t concern me…he usually calls back within twenty minutes, or so. But after twenty minutes, he hasn’t responded. I try again. No response. I shake my head again, and decide to open Emma’s attachment.
It takes a few seconds for the download to complete, but I know what the image is before it fully loads. It’s obvious. I’ve seen those tattoos before. The image is of Gemma engaged in a passionate kiss with my boyfriend. He has her lifted in his arms and he’s holding her like a child.
Chapter 2
I want your ugly
I want your disease
I curse. I throw things. I cry. I scream. Then I sob. “How could he do this to me?” I want to just curl up and die. This is the man I love! And he’s with the woman I hate the worst! “How can you do this to me, Joe? How? Why? Oh God…..”
I remember the first attachment. I know I shouldn’t, but I have to open it. I find it and click on it. It takes another minute to download….same hotel room. Same Joe. Different woman. This time it’s the fucking midget Canadian gymnast whore! I cry more. “Why Joe? Why with the two women I hate worst in the world?”
After a while, I compose myself and I remember an item Joe leaves in the computer desk. I slide the drawer open, and there it is. I remove the wicked looking silver instrument and slowly raise it to my temple. No. Not good enough. I open my mouth and slide it in. I nearly gag on the taste of gun oil and burnt gunpowder. I lower the pistol onto the desk and cry more. Then I realize the gun isn’t for me. Not yet anyway. I remove the magazine and then the bullets. I name one “Gemma.” The next one I name “Marie.” The third one is called “Joe.” The fourth “Kayla” (I know I won’t be able to get to Marie without going through her). The next nine are for whomever gets in my way. The next to last one I name “Emma.” I call the last one in the magazine “Joni.”
Chapter 3
I want your horror
I want your design
‘Cause you’re a criminal
As long as your mine
Over the next few hours I get several more images from the mysterious Emma Fox. All the messages are taunting. The images become more detailed and lurid with each attachment. I become fascinated with how far Marie and contort her supple body! I’d be really impressed if that wasn’t my man the little cunt was fucking! The images of Joe with Gemma don’t make things any better. Although I learn that she likes it doggy style while bent over furniture. “I”LL KILL THAT GODDAMN WHORE!!!!!”
I run from the house and out to my car. I speed down the street like a drunken Nascar driver. I drive erratically, but I know where I’m headed. I have my Berretta 9mm by my side. I know the hotel the pictures with Marie B. were taken in. It’s the Omni Royal Orleans. The place Joe likes to take me when we spend late nights in the Quarter. As a matter of fact, it’s the same room. Joe calls it “our suite.” That fucking BASTARD!!!
I reach the hotel without running anyone down, although there were some close calls on Canal. I double park and storm into the hotel. Once inside I’m stopped quickly by security. Obviously there is a protocol for handling angry women tromping down the corridor with a loaded 9mm. Apparently I wasn’t the first to do it. After being thrown to the ground and handcuffed…threatened with pepper spray after biting a guard…and finally threatened with a taser by an off-duty NOPD officer, I was lead to the security office. But before we get there, an oddly familiar voice stops the guards and inquires as to why I’m handcuffed. After a few minutes of haranguing and bickering, the guards decide to release me to the man, who tells them I’m his sister. Of course no one believes him, but they decide to let me go. The hotel management doesn’t want things that should be handled discreetly to wind up in the morning Times-Picayune. Of course they won’t give my gun back…even after I bat my baby blues at them. Assholes! How can they take it away from me after I named the bullets?!!!
“We need to get out of here before they change their minds.” My mysterious benefactor says after I compose myself.
I know I’ve seen him before, and I know where. He was the referee for four of the five fights with Kayla and Marie. He’s a tall, very handsome guy, but in my anger I can’t remember his name. He seemed to be unbiased, and he was always trying to do what was right. I agree that we should leave.
He walks me to my car just as Joe’s Wrecker Service (isn’t that fucking ironic!) tows it from its double-parked spot and toward an address on Airline Highway. I sit on the curb and cry.
Chapter 4
This used to be a Funhouse
But now it's full of evil clowns
It's time to start the countdown
I'm gonna burn it down
The man who saved me from a night in jail reminded me that he is called Boche. He offers to drive me home, if I’d agree to explain why I came to the Omni Royal Orleans with a loaded gun and an attitude. Since he already knows most of the story anyway, and because I’m an emotional wreck wanting to tell someone, I fill in the rest of the details.
My emotions are completely drained by the time we get home. My passionate hatred for Gemma has now reached a crescendo. My anger at Joe is about to explode with unbridled fury. Boche can tell by the look on my face that something stupid is about to happen.
“Let me drive you somewhere. Maybe to a friend or relative’s house? You don’t need to be alone.”
I stare angrily at the front of my house. The one I shared with Joe for so many wonderful years. All that time flashes through my mind, and the incredulous circumstances that lead to this moment overcome me….this is all my fault. I collapse into his arms and weep when this realization hits me.
If only I had kept my mouth shut that night so long ago in Cardiff, Wales. I would have never met Gemma Rox. Nor would Joe. We would still be living our quiet, mundane lives here in the suburbs. Damn her! Damn her! Damn her! Boche has to restrain me from going into the garage and retrieving a jug of gasoline. I want to burn this fucker down.
Chapter 5
Nine….eight….seven….six, five, four….three….two….one…FUN!
Boche successfully wrestles the gas can and matches from my grasp, and I collapse against him once again. I cry harder and struggle to get free, but he refuses to let me go. I punch and kick to no avail. He calmly strokes my hair and whispers that things will work themselves out. I finally give up my struggles, but I can’t resist pressing my body deep into his and kissing him with all the passion I have left in my spent psyche. We enter the house and I have my first taste of revenge for the sins committed against me. At the time it felt so right. Take that, Joe! You motherfucker. Then I stared at the wall and regretted the last hour for the rest of the night.
“I can take you to her.”
I lie on my side staring at the bedroom wall as those words rattle around in my head. Finally, I ask whom he is talking about. He replies, “Emma Fox.”
I slowly sit up and turn toward him. “How do you know her? I thought everyone involved in those fights were hired by Jessika.”
“I have worked for Emma Fox for years. I am, how would you say? Her right-hand man.”
If he had hit me with a hammer, I wouldn’t have been more stunned! I scramble to my feet, and say in a deep, growling voice, “You asshole! What do you want with me?”
“Nothing that you don’t want for yourself.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You want to find Emma. You also want revenge on Gemma and your man. Am I not right?”
I stare at him for a moment, my anger rapidly leaving but a residual burn takes its place.
“I can take you to her.”
“Where is she?”
“I can take you there.”
“When?”
“Now, if you like.”
“Let’s go.”
“Are you sure you want to meet her?”
“Of course. This is the tenth story written in her honor. Who wouldn’t?”
“She really hates you. You should run as far away from her as you can.”
“Fuck that! What’s the worst that could happen?”
“You really don’t want me to answer that. The worst is actually what she has planned for you.”
“She knows I’m coming?”
“Of course. I was sent her to bring you back. Luckily, you came to me and saved me a great deal of work.”
“You fucking asshole! You seduced me!”
“Some might say that you seduced me. Now get in the car.”
“No. I’m not going anywhere with you! You bastard!”
He bats his big green eyes and persuades me to get into the car, although I think it has more to do with the small pistol he pulled out of his pocket that his gorgeous eyes.
We leave that afternoon for Houston, Texas…for what he calls, “My meeting with destiny.”
Chapter 6
She say never have I known it when it felt so good
Never have I knew it when I knew I could
Never have I done it when it looked so right
Leaving Louisiana in the broad daylight
Driving westward I-10 across the southern part of the state always fills me with wonder when I look out at the vast beauty of my home state. I fight off an overwhelming urge to cry as we leave the state and cross into Texas. An ominous feeling that I may never see the Mississippi draining into the Gulf ever again almost take my breath away. I fight off the urge to cry and we head toward the urban ugliness that is Houston.
We arrive in the city at rush hour. Isn’t it always rush hour in Houston? I’d leave this fucking place too if I had to live here. It’s almost as bad as the ghetto that is Memphis, Tennessee. But that’s for another story. We drive into a grimy industrial area until we come to a dark, looming multi-story building. It is grimy and unwelcoming but we drive through a large open door and deep into its bowels. Boche parks the car and asks me to follow him to an elevator. I don’t argue, because once again he has his little gun in his hand. We ride up to the building’s third floor, where we exit and walk down a short, dimly lit hallway to a closed door. Using a key he removes from his pocket, Boche opens the door. He urges me to lead the way in. I enter but quickly stop and Boche walks into me and nearly knocks me to the floor. Standing in the middle of the room are Gemma and Joe. Gemma is in his arms. At least they have their clothes on.
“YOU GODDAMN WHORE!!!! I scream at Gemma and start to rush her, but a strong arm wraps itself around my throat and a white cloth with a foul smelling odor encompasses my mouth and nose. I struggle and writhe, but to no avail. I quickly go limp and dream of frogs being dissected in a laboratory.
Chapter 7
“You son of a bitch! What did you do to her?!!!” Joe exclaims as he watches the woman he loves slide to the floor at Boche’s feet. His bonds keep him from rushing Boche, but he tries anyway and crashes to the floor bringing Gemma down on top of him. After falling, he says, “This was your plan all along? To let her see us tied together?”
“Oh no my friend, she didn’t see your bindings. All she saw was you and the English girl in an embrace.”
I’m gonna kill you, motherfucker…” Joe growls as a laughing Boche walks from the room carrying an unconscious Joni on his shoulder.
“Well, I guess that bitch is really going to hate me now.” Gemma says with a grunt as Joe helps her to her feet.
“She already hates you for some reason.”
“You know why she hates me.”
“Yeah, but I don’t understand the reason.”
“Do you understand anything that ignorant cunt does?”
“Gemma, please.”
“I’m sorry Joe. I know you love her, but she dragged me into this. None of this would have happened if she had left well enough alone that night Metros.”
“God….that was so long ago. It seems like ages.”
“When this is over I’m going to break her fucking neck, Joe.”
“Please don’t. She means well. She really does have a good heart. It’s just that she….she….uh….gets so damned determined. Then there’s trouble.”
“She didn’t have to drag me into her trouble though.”
“I know, Gemma. But it’s kind of odd that you keep popping up. You beat her up pretty badly the first time. You had nothing else to prove. Why do you keep coming back?”
Gemma stares at the ground wistfully for a few moments and then replies, “You know, I really can’t answer that. I can’t believe I’m about to say this….but I think I really care about her. I can’t explain why, but I really do. I never had this kind of excitement in my life before she walked into Metros that night. It’s been like a crazy merry-go-round since then. And I really like you…..”
Joe softly lowers his forehead onto hers and sighs, “Hopefully this will all be over soon. I wish they would untie us.”
Chapter 8
If you open your mind to me,
You won’t rely on open eyes to see
I lie in a peaceful slumber, my head resting on warm, alabaster stone. A soft breeze riffles through my unkempt blonde hair and his soft finger tips gently caress my cheek.
I open my eyes and I realize that unless Boche or Joe paint their toenails, then the warm, alabaster stone my head is resting on is a pair of legs belonging to another girl. I’m in a room, so there are no soft breezes and the girl who is cradling my head in her lap is stroking my cheek and playing with my hair. She has cute red toenails….
“Gemma?” I softly ask.
“What the fuck did you call me?” A laughing voice asks.
My eyes fly open and I roll of the couch and onto the floor when I realize I know that voice! “Marie?”
“Kayla…she thought I was that tattooed whore!”
I look around and see that I’m in a hotel room…an Omni Royal Orleans hotel room! Marie is sitting on the couch and Kayla is sitting on the edge of a bed coyly leering at me with a smirk on her face. Then it hits me that this is the same room the images of Marie and Joe came from. I call Marie a “fucking bitch” and rush at her but Kayla comes off the bed like a flash and grabs me around the waist and throws me onto the bed. Marie sits on the couch and laughs. But they don’t attack me. I wonder why….
“I enjoyed those nights with your man. He liked them too.” Marie stares at me with an evil grin on her face. “Maybe you can join in next time.”
I scramble off the bed and rush her again, but Kayla is there to stop me just like last time. I wind up face down on the bed.
“We are under strict orders not to hurt you.” Kayla says. “If we weren’t, you’d probably be face down and ass up by now. …Tee hee!”
“What orders?” I ask incredulously.
“Emma’s orders. We don’t get paid if we don’t follow them. We like getting paid. But don’t worry, you’ll end up wiggling your cute little butt for us soon enough.”
I stare at Kayla a moment, and then I look at Marie. She is being awfully quiet….just sitting and staring at me. I want to claw her fucking eyes out, but something about her demeanor makes my stomach flutter. God…I’d love to feel our bodies pressed together again….but then I want to strangle her too….
“Why did they have to put me in here with you two?” I wonder out loud.
“Why not with us? It’s not like we don’t know each other intimately,” Kayla says with a snicker.
I turn red from embarrassment and shake my head. “What is this all about?”
“Emma hates you. We didn’t finish the job she sent us to do, so she plans on finishing it herself.”
“Which is?”
“Tee hee….we can’t tell you.”
“Fucking bitch,” I mumble under my breath.
“Yes, I am. And if you survive this day, I promise you’ll soon see how much of a bitch I can be. I’m going to wipe you from Marie’s memory one day soon.”
I glance at Marie and notice that it’s now her turn to blush.
The door to the room opens and in walks Boche. He points at me and orders me into the adjoining room. Of course I refuse, so he grabs me by the hair and pulls me through the door. Strangely enough, neither Kayla nor Marie laughed at my misfortune. A glimpse of Marie’s face showed just a touch of sadness.
Boche flings me across the room by my hair and I crash to the floor. He turns on the overhead light and I see this is a bedroom. I scramble to my feet saying, “No…no…no…no…no….” over and over. I climb over a chair and kneel down behind it as if I can hide.
“Joni, I’m not here for that. Nor am I here to hurt you. Right now I’m following orders.
“Following orders, my ass! You seduced me once.”
“Don’t play games with Emma Fox…nor with me…Joni. You will not win. Ms Fox left you a little present on your pillow.” Boche says, and then leaves the room, locking the door behind him.
I watch the door close and I wonder to myself how I ever got into this situation. I should have listened to Joe from the start. I sigh and look to my pillow for my “present.” I expect to find an angry black mamba. Instead I find another photograph. This time it’s Joe and a beautiful, older brunette. I bury my face in the pillow and sob.
Chapter 9
After leaving Joni alone in her room and warning Kayla and Marie…once again…to not bother her, Boche leaves the room and walks down a long corridor to his own quarters. He walks through his apartment and onto the balcony. Using his cell phone he calls a number and says, “Storm. This is Boche. All is going as planned. The blonde is locked in her room. Kayla and Marie are aware of the situation. If we can keep Marie from killing the blonde herself, then we may just be able to get them all out alive. Ms Fox arrived earlier this evening. She came alone. She had me drug the blonde’s boyfriend again and take his picture with her. I left the photo on Joni’s bed. We must move early, if we are to save all of them. I fear for the blonde, though. If Emma kills her quickly, then we may not have a chance. I’ll call you in the morning.” Boche hangs up the call and prepares for a long, sleepless night. There is much to be done.
Across town, the man known as Storm signs off on his end of the call. Now it is his time to make preparations. He has been waiting for this moment for a long time.
Chapter 10
“So what do you think is going to happen to us?” Gemma asks Joe as they prepare for another long night of fear and unspoken sexual tension. Joe ponders the question for a minute then says, “I really don’t know, Gemma. But it’s not looking good. If only I could get some idea, or maybe find out who this Emma Fox woman is….”
“I hate being cooped up like chickens waiting for the slaughter.”
“I know. This sucks, first chance I get, I’m going to try and get us out.”
“How?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Where did they take you earlier today?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You came back reeking of perfume.”
“Yeah….I know.”
“Joni caught it to. She thinks we’re having an affair.”
“I know. It’s killing me. I wish I knew where she is. We’ve got to get her out of here. It seems like that Fox woman really has it in for her.”
“She doesn’t like any of us.”
“I know. I wish I knew why, though.”
“Maybe we’re about to find out…..” Gemma replies as the door opens and Boche and two henchmen walk in.
“Get up, Joe.”
“Fuck you, Boche.”
“Okay….I was going to take you to see your little girlfriend, but if that is your attitude about seeing her….”
“Okay, okay. But someday you and me are going to have a long talk.”
“I relish the thought, sir.”
Joe is led out into the corridor and down a long hallway. They stop outside a door leading to a room just like the one he shares with Gemma. It’s funny how they remind him of rooms at the Omni Royal Orleans Hotel back in New Orleans. “What is this all about,” he thinks to himself.
Boche and the guards lead him into the room, and Joe is stunned to notice that Kayla and Marie B are on the bed pleasuring themselves. They never acknowledge the men’s presence. Boche unlocks an enter door and says to Joe, “You have ten minutes. Make the most of it.” Then he switches on the light. Joni is sitting up in bed resting her head on the headboard. She jolts awake when the light hits her eyes.
Chapter 11
“Joe?”
“I’m here, baby.” Joe rushes to the bed and we embrace. I bury my face in his chest and hold him tight as he tells me how much he missed me. I hold him as tight as possible but then I open my eyes and see the picture that was left on my pillow.
“Who is she Joe?”
“Who?” He asks, confused.
“The woman with you. Who is she?”
He stares at me in bewilderment for a moment and I shove the picture into his face. He stares at it and says, “I’ve never seen her before in my life.”
“Joe, I’ve seen some other pictures. Of you and Gemma, and ones of you and Marie. The ones with Marie were taken at the Omni Royal Orleans.” I say as tears stream down my cheeks.
“No way Joni. That isn’t possible. They’re forged. They have to be. Didn’t you notice that the room they’re holding me in looks just like a suite at the Omni Royal Orleans. Maybe they drugged us…..”
“None of you looked drugged. Oh Joe…..” I begin weeping harder.
“You’re hiding something from me, Joni. What is it? You can tell me.”
“You bastard!” I hit him in the chest. “You FUCKING BASTARD!”
“Joni, stop. Talk to me. Please?” Joe implores as I bury my face in a pillow.
“I hate myself, Joe.”
“What did you do? You slept with someone else, didn’t you? Who was it?” Joe says, getting to his feet.
The door to the room opens and Boche walks in with two armed guards. For a moment my eyes lock with Boche’s….and Joe knows.
“Joe….NO!!!” Before I can stop him, Joe runs at Boche and knocks him to the floor. As Boche falls, the two guards immediately attack Joe, beating him to the floor with the butts of their shotguns. Boche orders them to stop, but not before Joe is lying next to him.
Boche gets to his feet, rubbing his aching chin, “I guess I deserve that one. The next one will cost you your life.”
“Fuck you. I’ll kill you when I get out of here.”
“Then it’s too bad you won’t be getting out of here. I would very much like another meeting with you. Guards, take him to his room.”
The guards escort Joe from the room, but before he leaves he looks at me and says, “I love you. I always will, Joni,” and then he was gone. I immediately get a deep; sorrow filled sinking feeling that I’ll never see him again. I bury my face in the pillow and weep again. Why has my life come to this? What have I done to deserve any of this? I know my mouth started a fight with Gemma way back in Cardiff that night. She beat me up. I deserved that. But why did that night have to bring on my total destruction? Maybe I’d be better off dead. I know those around me would be better off.
“Joni, you must trust me. I can get you out of this. I don’t want to see you die. Emma Fox plans on killing you herself tomorrow.”
I realize Boche is still in the room , and I can’t believe my ears! This asshole has tricked me, seduced me, chloroformed me, and tossed me across the room by my hair…and he wants me to trust him now?!!! “Are you insane?!!!!”
“Most likely. But I’m your only hope.”
“I don’t like my chances, then.”
“The odds are against you whether you trust me, or not. But we have to try. I can’t just sit back and let her kill you.”
“She wants to kill me? Why?” I ask in bewilderment.
“I really don’t know all the facts. But it is because of something that happened long ago. Something you did to her or her family.”
“What did I do? You’re lying, aren’t you?”
“Unfortunately, I’m not lying this time. You have to trust me. I’m your only hope.”
“Like I said, I don’t think I like my chances.”
“Suit yourself. I’m still going to try and save your miserable life. This is your bedroom. I suggest…no I demand….that you get cleaned up and go to bed. You will need all the rest you can get before tomorrow morning.”
“What’s tomorrow morning?”
“That is when Emma plans to kill you. The clothes you will wear for that meeting are on the dresser.”
“I’ll wear what I have on, thank you very much!”
“Then I will hold you down, strip you, and dress you myself. Don’t play games, Joni. As I told you, I am your only hope.”
“And as I told you, I don’t think I like my chances.”
“Then maybe I should lock Marie in here with you to ensure that Ms Fox’s orders are being followed?”
“No, I’ll take a bath and wear whatever that goofy bitch wants. I want to meet her too.”
"As I said before, Joni, don't play games with Emma Fox. You don't know what you're getting into."
"I'll take my chances."
Boche looks at me for a long moment with a hint of sadness. He sighs and turns as if to leave.
“I have a little surprise for you.”
“Enough surprises, Boche. I can’t take much more.”
“Then don’t look at it as a surprise. You have a roommate for the night. Wait just a minute and I’ll bring her in,” and he leaves the room.
“Oh hell, what now? Marie? Gemma? This is just what I need on the last night of my life, “ I think to myself.
Boche soon returns and to my great surprise, he isn’t with Gemma nor Marie. He is leading a gorgeous brunette by a leash. A leash attached to a leather-studded collar around her neck. My eyes register my shock as the brunette is led in. She can’t be over twenty years old and she looks like a model! Other than the collar she is clad only in a black t-shirt. The shirt can’t hide her curves, nor can it conceal the fact she isn’t wearing anything under it.
“This my dear Joni is my Kitten. She will keep you company tonight. Actually she will ensure that you don’t do anything stupid. Isn’t that right, Kitten?”
The young girl smiles as he says, “Kitten,” and she answers with a giggle.
“Don’t let anything happen to my Kitten, Joni. I hold you responsible for her tonight,” Boche says as he unlatches the leash and then leaves the room. The click of the lock sounds like a gunshot.
I shake my head in disbelief at this turn of events. I look toward my new roommate just as she launches herself at me, slamming us both onto the bed. She wraps her fists in my hair, wrenches my head back and forth, the whole time screaming, “He’s mine, you filthy bitch,” over and over…..
My immediate shock turns to anger and it wells up from deep in the fiery pits of Hell. I unload all my frustration on this girl even though she is at least three inches taller than me and ten pounds heavier.
But my shock soon returns after only a couple punches. The girl scrambles off me, runs to the corner, and she hides behind a chair. “Don’t hurt me! Please don’t hurt me!” She implores in a tearful voice.
Chapter 12
“What the hell is wrong with you? You attack me and then beg me to stop….before I even get started?”
“Please don’t hurt me!”
“I’m going to kick your stupid ass, bitch!”
I rush around the chair she’s hiding behind, but she flees across the room and tries to scramble under the bed. I grab her by the ankle and pull her back. Once again, to my surprise, she pushes herself off the floor and wraps her arms around my head. Before I know what is happening, she’s behind me choking me.
“I want to kill you, Bitch! Boche told me all about your little night together in great detail. He’s mine. All mine.”
I start gasping for air but she releases me and flings me to the floor.
“But I can’t kill you. I was ordered not to touch you. Please don’t hurt me.”
I’m simply stunned at this turn of events! She could have broken my neck. She obviously knows how. But here she is begging for mercy again. “Who’s orders?”
“Boche’s.”
“Why?”
“Because he doesn’t want Emma Fox to kill me in your place.”
“That’s mighty humane of him.”
“Fuck you, bitch! Don’t bad mouth him! He’s good to me!”
“He leads you around on a leash.”
“(giggles) I know….”
“Are you insane?”
“Most likely. (giggles)”
“That was a stupid question. Everyone here is insane. Including me.”
I lower my head and prepare for bed, although I’m pretty sure I won’t be sleeping tonight.
“Stop staring at me.”
“Where do you want me to sleep?”
“Kittens sleep on the floor.”
“But it’s cold on the floor!”
“Too bad.”
“Fucking bitch. Can I at least have a blanket?”
“Take the comforter.”
“A pillow?”
“Don’t press your luck.”
“Bitch.”
“Yep.”
I lie on the bed and wrap myself in the sheets. I can’t stop thinking about Joe. Maybe he was set up. The feeling is right. I just can’t imagine him cheating on me willfully. I own him….just like Boche owns Kitten. I rise up and throw the spare pillow at her with all my might. It catches her in the face as she is stretching on her little pallet just like a fucking cat. She grunts when the pillow hits her and says, “Thanks, bitch.”
Eventually I drift off into a fitful, dreamless sleep. I awake to bright sunlight streaming through the cracks in the drapes. Kitten is curled up on the bed beside me. Her body pressed against mine. Her soft snoring reminds me of a content cat’s purring.
Chapter 13
The man called Storm parks a large van across the street from a seemingly abandoned warehouse. He gets out of the van and crosses the street and hides in an alcove where no watchers can see him. He removes a cell phone and dials a number he remembers by heart. “May I speak to Emma Fox, please?”
“Mr. Storm. I must congratulate you on your hard work. All is going according to plan.”
That voice. That exotic, sexy voice. Storm thinks to himself. Too bad it’s attached to this crazy bitch.
“I just wanted to make sure you were happy with the results, Ms. Fox. When can I expect Kayla and Gemma to be freed?”
“You can pick up Kayla at the specified location as soon as I have finished with the blonde. I will keep the tattooed English girl. She is next on my list after the blonde. I will compensate you with the Kayla’s little girlfriend. Jessika has indicated she has no further need for her.”
“But I was expecting the English girl as compensation.”
“You feel you are being treated unfairly?”
Storm knows this is the dangerous part of the operation. If he becomes too pushy, she may just kill them all and flee before his plan has time to work. He has to make sure Boche’s plan is followed to the letter.
“Of course not, Ms. Fox. Marie will be more than adequate as compensation.”
“Very good. I will have someone call you as soon as I’m finished with the blonde. Goodbye, and very, very good work.”
The man known as Storm ends the call and says a short prayer for “the blonde.” Chances are no one can save her. Although Boche has promised to try like hell.
Another quick call…this time to Boche. The message is simply, but decisive, “The time is here.”
Chapter 14
Kitten and I lie in our warm bed for a little while until we are jarred awake by a loud pounding on the door.
“I hope you are both decent. I am coming in,” Boche says from the doorway. “Ahhh, my beautiful Kitten! You did well. I’m so proud of you!”
I nearly throw up as she gets to her knees and nuzzles against her ‘master.’ What a gross display! She is actually purring and giggling now.
“Go to your room, Kitten. Do what I told you to do last night. You remember, yes?”
The girl says she does and then scampers from the room like a child. I turn to Boche, “What the hell is wrong with you? Why do you treat that poor girl that way?”
“Ahhh, my lovely Joni! I never would have guessed you are a humanitarian. But how do you know that it isn’t her choice to be treated that way. Maybe she even likes it.”
“You’re an animal!”
“Perhaps. But I do in fact own Kitten. She is my pet. You are not one to judge me. Isn’t Joe your pet?”
“Fuck you!”
Boche laughs at me and then says, “Please shower and then put on the attire you were shown last night. You will be having breakfast with Ms. Fox in approximately one hour. Be ready when I return.”
With that, he turns sharply and exits the room.
The next hour turns out to be the longest of my life. I can’t help but wonder if everything that has been said will come true. Am I living the last few hours of my life? Will I ever see Joe again? How about that fucking Bitch, Gemma? Will I ever get back to my beautiful New Orleans again? The knock I’d been dreading ends my reverie.
“Are you ready?” Boche asks as he enters the room.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I respond.
“Don’t play games with Emma Fox, Joni. She’s very dangerous.”
“So you keep saying.”
“It bears repeating.”
“Why do you care?”
“I want what she has. You may be my path to getting it.”
“And what might that be?”
“I cannot say. You may tell her under duress. You will surely be under duress soon enough. Let’s go.”
“Where are we going? What does she have planned for me?”
“I believe you’re having breakfast with her.”
Boche leads me from the room and down a long hallway. I become self aware of the outfit I was to ordered to wear. I’m wearing blue thong panties, a long white silk robe and nothing else. Emma has the right idea for breakfast clothing. But I feel naked as we ride the elevator upwards.
The elevator finally stops after completing it’s long journey to the roof. We disembark and walk down a short hallway, through a door to the outside and into a dream world that could only be conjured from the darkest depths of Hell.
The roof of the building has been converted into an idyllic garden scene. There are small trees growing in pots, plants, and what looks like a real grassy area. Concrete gargoyles and ceramic birds guard over the lush greenness. Real birds flock to discreetly placed feeders and baths designed to give naturalness to this unnatural setting. The scene would be beautiful…if it wasn’t for the hazy, smoggy backdrop of the Houston skyline and the noises and smells associated with any large metropolis. It also doesn’t help that several armed men are standing at each corner of the rooftop.
Boche leads me a across a clear portion of the roof that doesn’t seem to fit with the rest. We walk up two steps and onto a raised, covered porch. There is a table filled with breakfast items on the porch. There are only two chairs at the table. A woman occupies one of the chairs. She stands to greet me as we approach. “Joni, it is my pleasure to introduce you to Ms Emma Fox,” Boche says, and then walks back toward the elevator.
Chapter 15
Boche steps onto the elevator and as soon as the door closes, he calls Storm. “It’s time to roll. There are ten guards in the building. Four are on the roof. A few will flee at the first sign of trouble. The rest are loyal to Ms. Fox. The other six are scattered on the second and third floor. We don’t have much time.”
As Boche signs off his phone, the man called Storm starts up the large van, puts in gear and drives as fast as he can toward the warehouse’s closed garage door.
Boche gets off the elevator on the third floor…where the remaining captives are being held. He rushes down the hallway unlocking doors as he goes. He begins ordering everyone into the hallway. When he gets to the room where the guards are, he punches the first one through the door in the face and orders the other one to the ground at gunpoint. He sees that this guard is nothing more than a scared boy, so he disarms him and locks him in the room with the injured guard. He takes their radios before he secures the door. Just as he notices the captives streaming into the hallway, a loud crash rocks the building. He knows that this is the man called Storm driving through the garage door.
Boche must now convince the captives that it is in their best interests to follow him. But first, he must deal with the large, very angry Joe….who just yanked the pistol from his hand.
Now with a pistol pointed at his own forehead and Joe’s forearm crushing his windpipe, Boche manages to squeak, “You have to trust me! I can get you out of here!”
“Fuck you! Tell me where Joni’s at, or I’ll turn your head into a canoe!”
“Listen to me, you fool! All of you will die if you don’t!”
“Tell me where she is!”
“We’ve got to get out of here, Joe!”
Just as Boche starts fading from the immense pressure on his throat, a heavy weight hits Joe in the back. His grip is torn away from the man he was choking and he reels against the wall as Kitten reaches around his head and starts clawing at his eyes. The gun falls from his hand and clatters to the floor. He tosses the clawing, screaming woman off his back and Gemma slams into her, knocking her to the floor. As Gemma rushes to punch the brunette, the girl curls up into a fetal ball and says, “Please don’t hurt me.”
A stunned Gemma stares at her for a moment and then Boche says, “Yes, please don’t hurt my Kitten. She was only trying to help me.” Gemma stops in her tracks…not because she is a humanitarian…because Boche is holding the pistol once again.
Joe gets to his feet and stands in front of Gemma. “What do you want from us, Boche? Haven’t you done enough damage already?”
“I want you to listen to me. Don’t interrupt. If you heard that loud noise moments before then you heard Storm drive a truck through the garage door of this building. We must get to that truck before the other guards get there. That is the only way you will get out of here alive.”
“Where’s Joni? I’m not leaving without her.”
“Joe, you must trust me. I will bring her to you.”
“Fuck that! I’ll get her myself.”
“You’ll be dead before you find her. Trust me. I promise you I will bring her to you…if she is still alive.”
“What do you mean, ‘If she’s still alive?’ For your sake, you better pray she is.”
“Please Joe. Protect my Kitten until I return with your Joni. I hold you solely responsible for her as you do me for Joni.”
Joe looks at the armed man for a moment, obviously weighing his options. As a token of trust, Boche hands him the gun. “Get these people to safety Joe. I will save your precious Joni. Trust me.”
With that, Boche runs toward the stairwell and disappears. Kitten tries to rush after him but Joe and Gemma restrain the screaming girl.
Chapter 16
“What do you want from me?”
“I want you to sit down and have breakfast with me.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought you may be hungry. Now sit down!”
The tone of authority in her voice can only come from one who is used to giving orders…and having them followed without question. I decide that this may be the only way to find out what is going on. I sit down across from her.
“Eat, child. You look famished.”
“Did you poison my food?”
The woman called Emma Fox crinkles her face in humorous disgust and reaches across the table and takes a bite of my food. “Satisfied? I’m not dead. Joe told me corn flakes with strawberries were your favorite breakfast. I hope you enjoy.”
“You were in that picture with Joe.”
“Yes. We had a marvelous evening. He is quite a lover. I may keep him around for a while.”
“I hate you.”
“Such harshness from one so young. Eat your breakfast, and then we will discuss hatred.”
I am hungry. I don’t want to, but I succumb and eat like I’m famished. I catch Emma watching me and I can’t help but think of a rabbit trapped by a rattlesnake’s stare. As I eat, she begins to talk.
“Of course you know by now that my name isn’t really Emma Fox. I think you’ve known that for sometime (actually, I haven’t). My name is really Jenn Peccavi. Does that name ring a bell with you?”
I think for a minute, but nothing comes to me, “No. Should it.”
“Well, yes it should. Twelve years ago you destroyed me. Now it’s time to return the favor (twelve years ago? What is this nutty bitch talking about?).”
“Twelve years ago? I don’t understand….” I say with a mouthful of cornflakes.
Emma, or Jenn, hasn’t taken her eyes off me. She is watching for any indication that I understand. But I really don’t.
“Yes. Twelve years ago I was very young, but very powerful. I was the head of a large empire in Florida, Texas, the Mississippi Gulf Coast, and parts of Tennessee and in Louisiana. I had to fight hard to gain what I had in New Orleans. But one day an…ahem…investigative reporter took it upon herself to expose me in the Times-Picayune. She called me a criminal. She made up baseless accusations of a vast network of drugs, prostitution and rackets. She accused me of ‘fixing’ several sporting events in the Southeast. She even exposed my propensity for violence. She somehow learned that I ran an underground combat network and liked to participate. She said I was very cruel to my opponents.” A wicked grin appears on her face, “I guess that much was true. I supposedly crippled her cousin.” She pauses for a moment to let me digest what she’s telling me.
“Well…did you?” I ask, now curious to see where this is going.
“Did I what?”
“Run a criminal empire? Did you cripple someone?”
“No.” She hesitates and drops her eyes for just a moment. “I’m no criminal. But yes to your second question.” She flashes that evil grin again.
I think for a moment, but I still can’t figure out how I play into any of this. Why am I here?
“That’s all very interesting, but what does it have to do with me?”
“Oh Joni, please don’t play coy with me. I don’t like games. Unless I’m the one playing them.”
“Really. I don’t understand,” I push my empty cornflake bowl away and look at her.
“You don’t? The Times-Picayune article that ruined me was written by Jonica Desjarlais.”
“That’s my name!”
“I know. You wrote it and then you disappeared. I was told that you went into hiding because of what I might do to you. But I knew it was you when I saw your name on that catfight website. I know your style. I’ve had twelve years to study it. I’ve watched for your byline for so long that I feared I might never find it. Fortunately, my passion for combat led me to that forum. As luck would have it, your story was the first thing I saw. I knew it was you from the very first sentence. Fate is on my side, mon cher.”
What is this crazy bitch talking about? I never wrote for the Times-Picayune. Especially not twelve years ago!
“I…I never wrote for a newspaper.”
She stares at me and the wicked grin never leaves her lips. She has the coldest eyes I have ever seen, and I’m beginning to really get scared. The expression on her face never changes while she picks up her heavy water glass and takes a deep drink.
“You can deny it all you want, nothing can change history…or your future. Now, you wanted to discuss hatred…..”
The smile never leaves her face and her eyes never stop sparkling as she releases the water glass and it slams into my forehead like a hammer.
Chapter 17
Joe finally manages to quiet the screaming kitten and head his little gang of misfits to the stairwell…it seems Boche disabled the elevator. Oh well, three stories isn’t too far to go, and Joe decides the stairs will probably be safer anyway. The five prisoners take up formation with Joe leading then Kayla and Marie keeping an eye on Kitten. Gemma wants to gag the young girl, but Joe says they don’t have time. Gemma brings up the rear (appropriate for her, don’t you think?)
As they edge closer to the second floor exit, the door opens and a guard rushes onto the landing. There is nowhere for the prisoners to escape and after a moment of hesitation, the guard opens fire with his pistol. Fortunately for Joe, Marie, Kitten and Gemma…the guard isn’t a very good shot. Unfortunately for Kayla, he doesn’t have to be a good shot as lead bounces off concrete and tends to ricochet. Fortunately for Marie, Kayla, Kitten and Gemma…Joe is a very good shot. Unfortunately for the guard, Joe doesn’t miss. The guard crumples to the floor just as Kayla screams out in pain.
Marie rushes to her lover’s side and gasps in horror when she sees blood appear on Kayla’s shoulder. “Please be ok, please, please, please….” She pleads.
Joe immediately checks the wound and hastily bandages it with a piece of cloth torn from Kitten’s t-shirt. He announces that it appears to be a clean wound, but she needs medical attention as soon as possible. But first, he has to get the group to the basement. With help from Gemma and Marie, he manages to get Kayla to her feet. She proudly comments that she is “fighter,” and she’ll be alright. But the pain and fear in her eyes belies her bravado.
Joe leads the group deeper into the depths of the building until they finally reach the landing marked parking garage. They walk through the doors and come face to face with Jessika and another guard. Both are armed and pointing their guns at the group.
“Aw damn, not now!” Gemma exclaims upon seeing her fierce rival. He body still aches from their last encounter. She does take pride in the fact that Jessika’s body still bears the evidence of their last encounter.
Chapter 18
The heavy drinking glass slams into my forehead and I recoil backwards, tumble out of the chair and land in a shower of glass, ice and very cold water. My hands raise to my forehead and I feel no blood, but before I can probe any farther, my hair is roughly grabbed and I’m half dragged off the porch and tossed onto the strange area that seemed so out of place on the roof a little while before. But as I land on the padded ground, the area’s purpose becomes crystal clear. It was designed for Emma’s “combat sports.”
Before I can explore the site any farther, my robe is yanked and torn until it is completely off of me. Now I’m left only in my blue thong. Emma…or Jenn…slowly removes her silk robe and reveals matching purple bra and panties. “I’ve waited a long time for this moment, Jonica Desjarlais. Welcome to your destiny.”
The brunette charges me and I manage to evade her first attack, but she soon has me cornered. I can’t flee. There’s nowhere to go. Every time I move, the four-armed guards form a barrier between me and any method of escape…except the roof’s edge. Now, I’m pretty dumb, but I’m not dumb enough to think I can fly. I turn and face the big, brunette bully. I believe I have a plan.
I’ve seen Gemma do this little maneuver several times. Heck, I’ve fallen victim to it at least three times. So why not give it a shot? I bet it works. Surely Jenn Peccavi isn’t that good a fighter. Facing my adversary head on, I strike out with my left fist. As it speeds toward her face, she easily blocks it…as I anticipated. I launch a hard underhand right fist toward her unprotected belly, but as it reaches the halfway point, her forehead slams into mine with a sickening ‘thud!’ As my head is jarred backwards, my entire body follows. I do a complete 180 in the air and land on my shoulder blades. The back of my head makes a second sickening ‘thud’ as it strikes the mat. The world goes black.
The pain briefly goes away, but comes roaring back in a torrent of ice cold water. I open my eyes and Jenn is standing over me with a second, now empty, water glass. Its contents are now splashed around my head. She laughs as she hands the glass back to a guard. “Oh my, this going to be easier than I thought. You are so weak. Too bad you can’t hide behind a keyboard now, isn’t it?”
I blink my eyes several times to remove the cold water, but I can’t believe how badly my head hurts. I sit up but a wave of nausea so intense hits me that I fear I may throw up. But I manage to keep my breakfast down as Jenn pulls me back to my feet by my hair again. I stagger a little and then she drives her fist deep into my exposed belly. I double up as sharp pain shoots all the way to my spine and I crumple to the floor while my tormentor laughs. “You’re so soft. Not so tough now, are you.” She kicks me in the side of the head and I collapse onto my side. “Fight back, you weak little bitch! I can’t believe you’re giving up this easy!”
My God! She is going to beat me to death and there is nothing I can do to stop her. Am I really this weak? Do I have no pride? No desire to live? I know I’ve let Joe down, but apparently he doesn’t care much for me any longer. I can’t fight for Gemma. She hates me. But that’s my fault too. I have no family left except an estranged sister. There is no one I can fight for. No one cares if I live or die. There’s just me. Only I don’t understand why I’m even here. I strike out with my heel and kick the laughing woman with a solid blow just below her kneecap. She yelps in shocked pain and falls onto her good knee beside me. For the first time today the smile leaves her face, and it is replaced by the most frightening visage of utter hatred I have ever seen. I’m sure if I somehow manage to survive, this look will haunt my dreams for the rest of my life. She balances herself, forces her hand into the front of my panties, pinches what little hair I have (damn, I knew I should have shaved
) and yanks so hard my butt lifts off the ground. I squeal in shocked pain as she yanks and yanks. Finally, I feel the hair pull free and my butt flops back to the ground. I curl up in a sobbing, writhing ball and try to rub the burning, searing pain away. Behind me I hear giggling as Jenn asks for a clean towel. “Put this a bag. I want those for a memento.” Over the course of the next few minutes I am subjected the most intense lesson in pain that I’ve ever felt. Jenn rolls me onto my back, straddles me and immobilizes me by pinning my arms to the floor with her knees and sitting on my chest. She proceeds to discuss her ‘hatred’ by pounding my face with her fists and hands. When she is finished, I’m pretty sure my nose is broken and one eye is swollen shut and the other has blood pouring into it from a cut on my eyebrow. I would lament on how I let myself get into this situation again, but I just hurt too damn bad. She grabs me by the hair and bangs my head off the floor. “Soon my dear Jonica Desjarlais, you’ll be begging me to go ahead and kill you.” With that, she stands up and stomps on my lower left leg until I’m pretty sure I heard a pop and I black out as the intense pain reaches my brain.
Chapter 19
The guard raises his weapon and orders Joe to drop his. Jessika and the guard obviously have the drop on him, but Joe knows he can’t let their escape bid die here. This is the only chance they’ll get. But before he can do anything rash, Jessika raises her pistol and slams it into the back of the armed guard’s head. The man pitchs forward then crumples to the floor unconscious. “I’ve got a long history with Kayla and Marie. I can’t let Emma kill you. Although I relish the though of destroying Marie and Gemma myself. Maybe someday, but now you need to get Kayla to safety.” Jessika then turns and flees back into the bowels of the building.
“C’mon, we’ve got to get Kayla out of here,” Joe says to the rest of the group. They stagger down a short hallway and into the main bay of the garage. Not knowing what to expect, they are relieved to find Storm and his van waiting. Freedom is close.
Storm gets out of the van and approaches the group with a huge smile on his face. Then it fades when he notices the blood on Kayla’s shoulder. Instead of wasting time asking what happened, he rushes to assist her. Turning to Joe, he asks, “How well do you know Houston?”
“I grew up here, why?”
“Okay, you drive. I’ve got some experience with gunshot wounds. I’ll stay in the back with her. We have to get as far from this place as we can.”
Joe nods his head in agreement. He assigns Gemma and Marie to assist Storm in the back of the van. Kitten will ride in the cab with him so she won’t be a nuisance. As everyone climbs in the vehicle, Joe takes one last look around wondering if he’ll ever see the woman he loves again. “Damn you Boche. You better not let me down.”
Joe gets into he driver’s seat and the van rockets out of the garage and into the hot, humid Houston afternoon. He points the vehicle eastward towards New Orleans.
Chapter 20
Once again I’m rescued from a hot world of darkness by a rush of ice-cold water. My tormentor is standing over me with a now empty glass for the second time. My God! What have I done to deserve this? But this is obviously my Purgatory. Soon I will probably die without ever understanding why.
I am roughly pulled to my feet again, but this time I don’t stop there. Jenn lifts me like a child (I can’t believe how incredibly strong this woman is) and slams my poor body across her outstretched knee. I gasp in shocked agony, but I hurt to badly to scream. Hell, I can’t even beg. Not that I would. No one cares about me. Joe’s with Gemma and he looked happy in the pictures. I plan on dying with dignity. But pride can only carry you so far….I whimper as Jenn slams my back across her knee a second time and I fear she may be trying to break it just like my leg.
Suddenly a popping noise can be clearly heard from deep inside the building. Jenn stops her torture for a moment and orders her guards to investigate. As they reach the door, more popping sounds arise. Jenn screams in anger as the men all throw down their weapons and flee the rooftop.
“Dammit why can’t anything go as planned! Come back you fucking idiots! Damn. You want something done right, then do it yourself.”
She walks over to a table and picks up a wireless radio. She speaks into it briefly but gets no reply. Her agitation increases as she looks back at me. “I guess it’s time to end this little game, mon cher.” She picks up a baseball bat and approaches me.
I struggle onto my knees and raise my head expecting the impending fatal blow. “Twelve years ago, huh?”
“Twelve years ago. You signed your death warrant the day that article was published.”
“Okay. But it wasn’t me.”
“There’s no reason to lie, Jonica Desjarlais. Die with a little honor, please.”
“I’m serious. It wasn’t me. I was still in high school twelve years ago. No newspaper would have hired me.”
My words sound hollow when spoken through mashed lips and a broken nose. But they ring of truth. I couldn’t have written that article. With my one eye still open, I see the truth finally sink in on my adversary. She now realizes I’m the wrong Jonica Desjarlais.
“You were in high school?”
“I started a year late because my parents thought I was too immature to start at five.”
“It wasn’t you?”
“No. You have the wrong girl.”
Chapter 21
As the sun descends from the sky at their back, a large white van speeds toward the Texas-Louisiana stateline. The only occupants are Joe, Gemma and Kitten. Kayla was dropped off at a Beaumont hospital along with Marie and Storm, both of whom refused to leave her side. A phone call from Storm later revealed that the injury was only a flesh wound and would leave no permanent injury. After that news, Gemma collapsed into a heap and slept like the dead in the back of the van. Joe still hasn’t heard any news about Joni, and he’s quickly losing hope.
“Do you think I’ll ever see Boche again?”
“I don’t know, Kitten.”
“I miss him.”
“I know, Kitten. You’ve said that a hundred times already….but why? He leads you around on a leash.”
“Maybe I like that, asshole! You ever think about that?”
“You like being lead around on a leash?” Joe asks, incredulously.
“Maybe.”
“Boche’s a fucking animal! He treats you like shit, and you like it? Are you insane?”
“Most likely. But please don’t talk about Boche like that! He saved my life! I’m his Kitten! If it wasn’t for him I’d probably still be dancing on poles and using meth. He saved my life! People treat me with respect when he’s around. They look at me with respect! I can go to nice places with him. He treats me like a lady when there’s no one around. You don’t know! I like showing the world I belong to him! I’m happy because of him! I’m healthy because of him! Why not be his pet?”
The young girl collapses against the door and cries. Joe rolls his eyes and says, “I’m sorry Kitten. I was out of line.”
“Will you take care of me if he doesn’t come back?”
“I don’t know, Kitten. I need to find Joni.”
“Boche said he’d bring her back, didn’t he. He will! But I don’t think his future plans include me.”
“What are his plans, Kitten?”
“I don’t know if I should tell you.”
“And you want me to take care of you? Welcome back to the streets.”
“He’d kill you if you did that. You gave him your word.”
“I guess I did. You’ll be taken care of. But now you owe me something. What are his plans?”
“He’s going to kill Emma Fox and take over her empire.”
“Her empire?”
“She runs a vast crime network stretching from Miami to El Paso. She has stuff in the Caribbean and Australia too.”
“Impossible. I’m a cop. The last woman in New Orleans who had that much power was Jenn Peccavi, but she disappeared ten years, or so, ago.”
“Peccavi! That’s the name Boche kept mentioning!”
“Emma Fox is Jenn Peccavi?”
“Yes! That’s it!”
Joe’s heart sinks when this news hits him. Now he has real reason to believe he may never see Joni again. Emma Fox is Jenn Peccavi. Unbelievable!
Kitten tires of the conversation after a while and tries to lay her head on Joe’s shoulder, but he pushes her away. Soon she curls up in a ball on the front seat and falls asleep. Before he knows it, the sleeping girl has her head in his lap. He is astounded when he notices her soft breathing sounds just like a cat purring. He softly stokes her hair just to keep her purring.
Chapter 22
“You were still in high school?” The realization hits home and Emma Fox…aka Jenn Peccavi…can just repeat this same line over and over…..
“Yes.” It hurts to talk, but I manage it pretty well. “I was still in high school.”
“The Times-Picayune would never hire a high school student as an investigative reporter. Were you named after your mother?”
“No.”
“Grandmother?”
“No.”
“Aunt? Uncle? Any family member?”
“I was named after my grandfather. His name was Jon Thibodaux.”
After a minute of reflection, the woman formerly known as Emma Fox turns pale as a ghost. “I did all of this to you….and you’re the wrong person?”
“Afraid so.”
“OH MY GOD, child! What have I done?”
“So? You can let us go now?”
“Absolutely not! Not now!”
“But….why not?”
“Well, for one thing, you know too much to be left alive. For another, that smart mouth of yours would drive a nun to murder. I can’t let you live.”
My heart sinks as my last ray of hope flickers. I steel myself for the inevitable. Surely it will come soon. I guess I was ready for it a little while back. I mean, who is there left to care whether I live or die. Joe certainly doesn’t. He can live his life out with his little English whore. I lower my head and softly weep.
“But you know, Jonica Desjarlais, I’m a sporting woman. Since I made a mistake, it would be unfair if I didn’t give you some sort of chance. I guess you’ve earned it.”
I hear the sound of the baseball bat clatter to the floor and I think, “Oh great, she’s going to beat me to death with her hands. Yippee!” But that isn’t what she has in mind.
“Your friends are still alive. Look and see where the bat is. Go on, look up at it. Good. That isn’t very far. If you can get to it before I do, you can still win. If you win, your friends will be spared. But if you lose…..” She smiles that wicked grin again, “This is your only chance. I will tell my crew what I just told you.” And she keyed the radio and did just that. Now, Joni, what is your choice?”
The bat is only about three yards away. Not too far. But I can’t breathe through my nose, my back hurts, and my leg is possibly broken. I have no chance. She’ll be on me before I can even touch the bat. I’m going to die on a rooftop in Houston on a hot, humid summer afternoon. There are storm clouds forming to the west. But I most likely won’t live long enough to see the lightening. Three yards is an eternity. My eternity. Then I see the third option. I spring off the floor toward the open door. Jenn face turns to a mask of shock when she sees where I’m headed and she staggers off balance to stop me. Just as she blocks my path to the door, I push off my injured left leg…and yelp in pain…change direction and dive toward the bat. I see Jenn stare for a moment in disbelief and launch herself towards me and the bat. I dive and my fingers touch the hard, round wooden surface just as her body crashes into mine……..
Chapter 23
….Joe walks along the lonely beach always looking for the one he lost. Movement from the water catches his eye and he looks and sees a laughing blonde playfully beckoning him to her. It is the one he loves. He rushes toward her and as he gets closer the setting sun brightly lights her hair and illuminates her in an aura of golden light. Then she’s gone. He looks wildly around, but there is no sign of her. She is gone again. He looks at the shore and drops to the sand and weeps when he notices that his are the only footprints in the sand…..
Joe sits up in bed covered in a cold sweat. The damp sheets are a tangled mess at his feet. He takes a moment to realize where he is, and why he’s there.
“You miss it, don’t you?” Gemma softly asks rising up on his left, placing a warm hand on his chest.
After a moment of recollection, Joe replies, “Yes, I do. I can’t believe it’s over.”
“Me neither. You know, I really miss the fun. The excitement! That stupid bitch could sure get people riled up!”
“Oh God, don’t I know! She was a professional troublemaker. Damn, I miss that!”
“But are your other needs taken care of? Could she do this?
Gemma runs her hand down his chest and belly and into his boxer shorts. They both playfully giggle and wrestle for a moment.
“Yeah, she could get me pretty excited.”
“Like me?”
“There’s no one quite like you, Gems.”
“You got that right! Come over here and let me help you forget all about her.”
“Okay!”
Finally, I had enough of this nonsense! I rise up from Joe’s right side and say, “You two know I can hear everything you’re saying right?”
“Hey Joe, she is awake! How the hell are you, babes?”
“Fuck you, slut! Get your hands off my man!”
“Make me, you fucking wimp!”
“You bitch! Let go of my hair!”
“Ow, slag! Don’t slap me!
Joe watches the action over him with a pleased smile on his face.
“Can I play, too?”
Gemma and I both yell, “Hell no Kitten! Go lay down!”
“Screw both you bitches!”
“Stop staring at us, you weird little whore!” I yell and throw a pillow at her. She curls up on her blanket in the corner and says, “Thanks, bitch.”
“Don’t slap me Joni!”
“Ugh, fuck Gemma, that punch hurt!”
“Then let go of my hair, you cunt!”
“Fuck you!”
“Yes,” Joe thinks as he lays his head back against the headboard, “Life is certainly good.”
“Let go of my tit, bitch!”
“I’m gonna rip it off, you fucking dyke!”
“You’re just jealous because mine are bigger, whore!”
“Yeah, well my snatch is cleaner, you nasty cunt!”
Epilogue
Late one summer night, a mysterious woman was dropped off at a Houston emergency room with severe head injuries. Her survival was a miracle, but her memory seems to be lost on the hot, humid East Texas wind. She hasn’t spoken a word. All she can do is sit in her hospital bed and run four names over and over in her head. She sits in silence and dreams of the day she will get her revenge. The names roll over and over: Gemma…Joni…Kayla…Marie…Gemma…Joni…Kayla…Marie….
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