by Jewel Geffen
She stayed very close to Jordan, making no motion to detach herself from him. It felt a good deal safer to be beside him, his arm around her back and his hand on her hip. Safer, and good in other ways, too...
She felt a sort of transgressive thrill, hanging on him like this, letting him treat her as if she were no more than his floozy, just “his bitch,” as those other men had put it. It was so far removed from her normal experience, the high powered lawyer with the dependent husband, the ball-breaker who didn't take any crap from the men around her, who wielded her status and power like a cudgel against any man who opposed her.
None of that would help her here. These men wouldn't care if she was rich or that she had an influential job. If anything, it would make her more of a target. All of the power and strength which Natalie had achieved throughout her life was worse than useless here, and she was totally dependent upon this man – this man with whom she was rapidly falling head over heels in love – for safety and protection.
It was a strange feeling. She wasn't willing to examine it too closely, but a part of her was actually starting to like it.
He gave her a little squeeze, and he guided her across the street and into the building where the party was taking place.
There was no turning back now.
Chapter Fifteen
The inside of the building was chaotic, a mad crush of bodies and thumping music and swirling lights. Everyone was crammed in together, laughing and shouting and cursing at one another in a ceaseless babble.
There were a series of balconies ringing around a huge wide open space set below. Natalie and Jordan stood at the railing and looked down. She could feel her mouth dropping open as she stared.
There was a sort of impromptu club set up in the main area of the building, where there were at least two hundred people bumping and grinding against one another. There were towering speakers set up on the crumbling concrete ramp of what looked like it had once been a loading door of some kind. Gangsta rap music was blasting at deafening volume, the heavy throb of a grimily propulsive beat pounding in her head.
Natalie wrapped her hands tightly around the balcony railing. She felt a bit dizzy as she looked out at it all.
The dancing wasn't like anything she'd ever seen before. It seemed more like aggressive foreplay than dance, to her. Half-naked men and women drenched in sweat were grinding their hard bodies against one another. Half the girls had their tops off, and half the men were sporting sizable bulges in their pants. She was pretty sure that at least a couple of the people down there actually were having sex, fucking in the midst of the crowd, lost in a sensual frenzy while the mass of people churned all around them.
Buxom women dressed in G-strings and jewelry and not much else were pole-dancing in front of the speakers, their ebony bodies writhing on the raised platform as they showed themselves off in a display of sexual athleticism that left Natalie dumbfounded and unable to look away.
“Is this normal!?” she asked Jordan, needing to shout just to be heard over the din.
He shook his head. “It's a big one! Never seen this many people in one place like this. Looks like four or five gangs are here. Only a matter of time before someone shoots somebody else!”
“Well then, let's not hang around!”
“Agreed!”
He clasped her hand and started to lead her around the wide ring. She felt a thrill run through her at his touch, and she trembled at the feel of his skin, at the tightness of his grip. She hurried to keep up, knowing that if she got lost in this crowd she might never find him again.
She scanned the crowd as they went, her eyes peeled for the tell-tale skull tattoo which their objective sported. She didn't see it, but what she did see filled her with a dreadful sense of being far out of her depth and totally overwhelmed.
She saw dozens of guns, pistols stuffed in the waistbands of pants, even what looked like machine guns. The whole place bristled with armaments. Jordan was right: it was a powder keg just waiting for a match to set it alight. If there really were members of hostile gangs here, then the moment an argument boiled over, she could imagine the whole place erupting in gunfire. The way everybody was packed together in here, she could only imagine the devastation which could be wrought in only moments.
It had to be said, however, that the drugs were even more numerous than the guns. The dank scent of marijuana hung thick in the air, pale blue clouds drifting through the air. She saw bongs burbling and joints burning everywhere she turned, not to mention the proliferation of brightly colored pills in plastic bags, and even the occasional flash of needles and sizzle of crack-pipes. She felt her skin crawl.
She'd had her share of experiences in college, but nothing like this. This was on whole new scale.
The drugs and guns weren't the only illegal activities going on, of course. She saw a man selling what she assumed were stolen Rolex watches, and there were prostitutes and pimps everywhere. She couldn't tell by looking which of the people having sex on couches and mattresses in the corner, or else just up against the walls, were being paid and which weren't, but she saw plenty of money changing hands.
“There!” Jordan pulled her close and spoke in her ear, “I see him!”
“Where!?”
He pointed.
At first she had no idea what he was indicated, but then she saw it, the back of a man's head, shining in the harsh light, smooth and bald. He sat reclined on a ragged-looking couch, his arms spread out across the back. He turned, and she saw the grinning black skull tattoo.
They forced their way through the crowd, finally breaking free into the clear space in front of the couch.
Natalie did a double take as she took in the scene before her.
Skulls, a lanky black man with thick biceps and a tight white muscle shirt, was slouched limply on the couch. His pants were undone, and pulled down around his ankles. A skinny Asian woman with dark hair and a tight leather skirt was kneeling between his legs, her head bobbing up and down in his lap as she pleasured him orally.
Jordan came up and stood over him, his arms crossed over his chest. He stood there, waiting for the other man to notice him.
Skulls opened one eye, then the other. He had his hand on the top of the woman's head, guiding her motions as she worked. “Help you with somethin', brother?” he drawled lazily.
“You Skulls?”
The man's eyes opened more fully. “Who wants to know?”
“Jordan Bishop.”
Now he had Skulls' full attention. He gently tapped the woman's head. “We'll finish this up another time,” he said. She sat back on her haunches, reaching up to wipe her lips.
Natalie felt her eyes go wide when she took in the sight of Skulls' equipment. What they said about black men, she realized, hadn't been entirely an exaggeration.
Skulls pulled up his pants, tucking the slick wet length of his cock back into his boxers, then lifting his hips to tug up his zipper. “I'll catch you later, babe, we'll finish this up, yeah?”
The woman nodded and drifted away, her attention already completely shifted the glowing screen of her smart phone.
“Somewhere we can talk?” Jordan shouted, “Little quieter? More private?”
Skulls' eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Not planning some shit, are you, Bishop?”
Jordan shook his head and displayed his empty hands. “Just talk!”
Skulls lifted his foot and planted it on the edge of the couch. He had on loosely laced combat boots. There was a wicked looking military issue knife stuck in one, strapped around his calf. “Keep it that way!” he said, then jerked his head to one side.
They followed him through the crowd and into a stairwell. The guardrail had collapsed in places, and the stairs themselves looked more than a little unstable. She felt herself hanging back. Once the door swung shut behind them, however, a great deal of the noise was effectively blocked out.
“Hope you got a good reason for dragging me out here,” Skulls said lightly, rea
ching down the pull out the knife, “been trying to get a blowjob from Amy all fucking night. I'm gonna be pretty pissed at you if I walk out there and she's got some other dude's cock in her mouth, Bishop.” He balanced the knife lightly on the backs of his fingers, not quiet looking at either of them.
“I'll make it quick.”
“Who's the girl?” Skulls asked, his eyes flicking to Natalie, taking her in with a glance.
“Just my girl, nobody important,” Jordan said, sliding his hand around her waist.
Skulls smiled, a little grin that spread slowly across his face. “I heard you gave up the ladies, Bishop. Got your heart broke. Heard you was living like a priest or something, these days.”
Jordan shrugged, trying to make it look casual, but Natalie had felt him tensing. “That was a long time ago.”
“I dunno, man. I dunno...”
Natalie stepped forward a little, fixing her face in a frown. “I'm his fucking girl, alright? Shut the fuck up about it,” she said, putting as much fire into her voice as possible, then she turned and grabbed Jordan's face and pulled it down towards her own. She kissed him full on the mouth, pressing her lips against his.
For just a second he seemed too surprised to know how to react, and he started to pull back. Then he caught himself, and he leaned into it. Almost before she knew what was happening her mouth was opening and her tongue was slipping into his mouth, and he was responding. She felt the sweet warmth of his mouth, felt his hands slide around to clutch her bottom. She shivered with delight as he gave her ass a hard squeeze.
She didn't want to stop kissing him, never mind that they were in a stairwell with a knife-wielding maniac at some kind of apocalyptic gangster party. She wanted him.
After a long, long moment, however, she forced herself to pull back, gradually coming down off of her tip-toes. She gazed up at him, eyes shining, and she licked her lips. “See?” she said, turning back to Skulls with a fiercely proud expression on her face. “I'm his girl.”
The other man had watched the whole display with a sort of sardonic surprise. “I can see that, honey,” he said. But he bought it, and he seemed to relax, slipping the knife back into its sheath. “So what's up, man? What does big bad Bishop want with little ol' me, anyway?”
“I'm looking for Melvin Quinn.”
Skulls shrugged, pulling a frown. “Never heard of him.”
“Come on, man, don't jerk my chain here. I need to find the dude. I know you know him, and I'm pretty sure you know what's going on. Just help me out here.”
“What's it worth to ya?” he said, smiling so wide that he showed his teeth.
“What's it gonna cost me?”
“A grand.”
“Bullshit.”
Skulls shrugged again. “Take it or leave it, man. If I'm gonna risk the Death-heads coming down on me, I'm not saying shit for less than a grand. I'll take my cash, take a vacation for a while. 'Til things cool off.”
“It's not worth a grand, forget it,” Jordan said, turning and grasping the handle of the stairwell door. He was starting to pull it open when Skulls spoke again.
“Not what I heard, man. Heard it was your little sis in the clink. Heard Melvin mighta been the one to put her there. If I were you, I wouldn't wanna leave her inside. Bitch is gonna get fucked up, you leave her on the inside too long, know what I'm saying?”
Jordan turned back, his expression turning stormy, so dark that Natalie recoiled ever so slightly from him.
If Skulls was intimidated, he didn't let it show. “If I had a little sis as cute as yours, Bishop, I'd pay whatever it took to get her out. If you wanna know where the Death-heads got Melvin stashed, it's gonna cost you.”
Jordan was about to reply, the words forming on his lips as he took a step towards the other man. Whatever he was going to say was lost, however. Before he could get the word out there came the sharp bang of a gunshot going off on the other side of the stairwell door.
And then all hell broke loose.
Chapter Sixteen
“What the fuck!” Skulls dove for the floor.
Jordan jerked away from the door. “Looks like the party just got a bit more exciting. Where's Melvin, Skulls?”
“No way, man, you're not getting out of it that easy. I'll find you, and you better have my grand ready to go, okay? I know where you at, I'll come to you.”
Jordan snatched Skulls' shirt, jerking him to his feet. “Not good enough,” he growled. Skulls grabbed for his knife and Jordan caught his wrist in an iron grasp.
For a moment the two men struggled at the top of the stair, locked together, both of them straining with everything they had. The muscles on Skulls' neck stood out as he grunted and fought to wrench his hand free. Jordan held him tight, his jaw clenching. Finally, Skulls conceded.
“Okay, man, okay.” Skulls opened his hands, making a little gesture of surrender.
The second that Jordan loosened his grip, however, the other man twisted free, slippery as a fish, and he flipped himself out over the broken railing and into open space.
Natalie gasped, rushing to the edge just in time to see Skulls land heavily on the next flight down, stumbling as he tumbled down a few steps to the landing, then getting back to his feet and dusting himself off.
“Goddamn it!” Jordan snarled.
Skulls looked up and let out a bark of laughter. “Don't get your panties in a bunch, Bishop, I still want my thousand dollars! I'll find you in the next couple days, and you'd better have it ready!”
Then, before either of them could even think about running after him, he was off and running, darting further down the twisting ruin of the staircase.
“Do we go after him?” Natalie asked, hoping quite intensely that the answer wasn't going to be yes.
Jordan shook his head. “Don't trust these stairs, and I haven't got any idea where they lead. Anyway, unless you're interested in beating the information out of him, it doesn't look like he's going to give us what we want.”
“You think he'll actually turn up?”
“Probably.”
“And do you have a thousand dollars?”
Bang! Another gunshot rang out. It sounded closer than the first. Natalie flinched, ducking down and putting her arms over her head.
“I'm thinking maybe we save that talk for another time!” Jordan said.
“Agreed! How do we get out of here?”
He shook his head grimly. “Stay close to me, and hope we're lucky.” He grabbed the door handle and started to twist it.
She caught his hand, seized by a sudden compulsion she couldn't quiet explain. He looked at her, and she looked back. “Before we go...” she said, “just in case... When I, um, when I said I was, you know... your girl. And I, uh, kissed you, I was-”
He reached up and brushed her cheek with his hand. His eyes softened, and he smiled very slightly. “I know,” he said, and he leaned in and touched his lips against hers.
Her knees were weak when he leaned away again, her head muddled with a thousand dizzying thoughts. “Okay then,” she murmured, “so long as we're clear.”
“Let's go.”
He pulled open the door, and they rushed out into a scene of absolute madness.
The music was still pounding, the volume oppressively high and disorienting, so loud that the rapper's words were transformed into an incomprehensible throb. Lights flashed and strobed chaotically. It seemed like everybody was running in different directions, screaming and yelling, half of them brandishing guns and scanning the crowd as if looking for targets.
Natalie felt her heart seized by a terror such as she had never known. It was like they'd been thrust into a war zone. Terror and excitement rushed through her. There was an indescribably thrill to it all, a sensation of adventure and horror all mixed in together. A jolt of adrenaline hit her, and she felt like she was lifted right off her feet by it. She grabbed Jordan's hand and let him lead her through the chaos.
They ran.
More shots r
ang out, cracking through the overwhelming noise of the sound systems blaring. She saw a man roaring and rushing towards her, an Uzi held out threateningly in his fist, and she screamed and stumbled, falling to her knees. The gun let out a burst of fire, the bullets whizzing through the air well over her head – he'd been looking at someone behind her, it seemed.
For a moment she was lost. Where was Jordan? She felt a burst of dreadful panic as she scanned the crowd.
Then he was there, coming back through the crush and swooping down to lift her off the floor, to carry her in his arms and bear her back out of the din, his legs pumping powerfully as he pounded towards the exit, forcing his way through the crowd to burst out onto the street once more.
He didn't put her down until they'd reached the car and he'd put her in the passenger's seat.
She sat there, her heart racing a thousand miles an hour in her chest, stunned by what had taken place. He dashed around to the other side, dove in and turned the keys in the ignition. The car roared to life. He jammed it into reverse and slammed his foot down on the gas.
They shot backwards into the street, pulling away from the building. She stared up at it, her eyes wide as saucers as she looked at the huge crumbling edifice, muzzle flashes lighting up the windows as people streamed out the door and clambered through the lower windows in a mass exodus.
She could hear sirens wailing in the distance, but they were already free. Jordan put his foot down and the car roared and they shot off into the glittering darkness of the night like a rubber band let go, and it all vanished in the rear-view mirror behind them.
Chapter Seventeen
Her heart was still pounding when they skidded into an empty parking lot on the outskirts of the city sometime later – she was so scattered she couldn't say if it had been five minutes or forty-five.
Jordan gripped the steering wheel so tightly that she could hear the leather creaking. He turned and he looked at her. “Well,” he said, a bit defensively, “that could have gone worse.”
Natalie did the only thing she possibly could have done: she burst out laughing. It started as a giggle, then grew until she was nearly breathless with it, doubled over and shaking in the seat. Jordan chuckled along, caught up in her amusement, even if he didn't quite seem to understand it. She didn't entirely understand it herself, to be honest. It was the only way to release the incredible tension which had built up inside of her. Now that it was out, she couldn't stop it.