Double Fated (Book One)

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Double Fated (Book One) Page 44

by C.K. Mullinax


  Chapter Forty Four

 

  Nearly a half hour later, I pulled into the hospital entrance. We were in the next county. I have no clue why I didn’t go to the one closest to my sorority, but I felt compelled to remain anonymous. That certainly won’t take much effort on my part because all I can remember is my first name and Audrey’s.

  Still, it didn’t feel safe to give admissions’ our real names. So, I made up new ones for both of us.

  “Okay Christie, we’ll get you checked out after you answer some questions about your friend, Andrea. What did she take?” the male nurse gently asked me.

  “Andrea…home…Christie…please…” Audrey told her.

  “This is the way I found her. I honestly don’t know…” I replied.

  “Did you take the same thing?”

  “I told you…I found her that way. I didn’t take anything to my knowledge…”

  “Were you two at a party?”

  “Home…no…please…party…thing…” Audrey babbled as I tried to calm her down.

  The nurse finally rolled her into a room and put her in a bed. Then, he escorted me to a different room to finish asking his questions.

  “You were telling me about the party…” the nurse reminded me.

  “No, I wasn’t. Neither one of us drinks alcohol or parties…”

  “You’re sure about that? Your friend seems extremely inebriated. The doctor will need to know what she took to safely treat her.”

  “I’m sure we weren’t out partying or drinking. To my knowledge, she didn’t take anything and neither did I. I’m not saying something wasn’t given to us…just that we didn’t willingly do this to ourselves…”

  He spent another few minutes going around in a circle with me, trying to make me admit that we were out running wild and our partying got out of hand.

  “Look, I’m on the level. Andrea doesn’t drink or do drugs and neither, do I. So, if you find something in her toxicology report then, it was slipped to her without her knowledge. Maybe, it’s a date rape drug.

  “All I know for sure is she needs medical attention and I think I might have been sexually assaulted. So, I would appreciate it if you would stop asking me the same questions in a different pattern to see if I will slip up and spill the guilt about us being naughty.

  “You’re not a cop and this isn’t an interrogation! We’re not criminals and we didn’t do anything wrong. I found her, incoherent. She’s my friend and I think someone hit me over the head when I went to check on her. I wasn’t drinking, drugging, snorting or smoking. And, neither was she, at least not voluntarily.

  “I demand to see a doctor, right now…and a gendered female one, at that! If I don’t get a woman doctor and I have a seizure or something, I’ll have my family sue you personally for chatting me up when you should be providing me with emergency medical assistance. Now please, I’m begging you…go get me a physician,” I stated, succinctly.

  Wow, I sound just like g-mom. Her name is Elizabeth Stewart! I remember her…

  I am Krista Stewart and I want my g-mommy…

  The nurse finally left me and a physician came in about five minutes later. After detailing my medical and sexual history for her, I explained that someone must have knocked me out.

  “The clothes underneath my sweats are the ones I woke up wearing. I pulled them on for the ride here. I didn’t shower or disturb anything. I wanted to preserve the evidence…” I told her as I peeled off layers.

  “You sound like a criminal justice student. Do you go to college around here?”

  “No (not around here, I thought to myself). I just enjoy watching crime shows (when I was twelve I did)…” I replied.

  “What about these bruises around your wrists and ankles…do you know how you sustained those?” she asked.

  “Cheerleading and gymnastics…I coach (my niece, Haven Ivester when I’m at home)…”

  Yay, another name came back to me!

  “I thought the expression is those who can’t do, teach. So, you coach but you’re not on a team?”

  “It’s sort of a unique program where I demonstrate stunts. I cheered through college and took gymnastics for about ten years when I was younger. I coach (Haven) with assistance from my brothers. They taught me everything I know (about self-defense and fighting)…”

  “How many brothers do you have?”

  “Three…Tray…Jaysen…and Reid…”

  “Are they younger than you?”

  “No, they’re all older. I also have three older sisters…Ember…Willow…and Fallon. And, four nephews Zander, Quinn, Luke and Mikey…”

  I would have kept right on telling her the names of my family members, but another female nurse came in to oversee my procedure.

  She was smiling, sympathetic and friendly while the physician carefully examined me. She bagged my jeans and tank top for evidence.

  “That should do it. Now, you can shower and then wait for me in here. I’ll be back, shortly,” the physician said.

  I stood in the stream of water not knowing how I should feel. I was terrified to hear the doctor’s report. But, I was elated because I could recall my family members.

  I also remember practically everything about my movements and activities in recent days. But last night is a giant black hole.

  I know I found Audrey somewhere because I distinctly remember her mouthing the words “You found me…” when she was lying on a bed. But, where I found her, why we were on a bed together and what happened to us was still eluding me.

  The bruises around my wrists and ankles could very well be attributed to my cheerleading. The national routine I performed with my squad at the Warming is mainly spent doing aerial stunts. Jarron (who is my spotter – yay!) has to catch me by my wrists and has to grip my ankles during parts of it.

  But, the blood between my thighs…well, that’s not from cheerleading.

  I didn’t see any bruising besides those the doctor asked me about. I also wasn’t hurting or aching in my private area. I had to shampoo my hair three times before all the goop was washed away.

  Drying off slowly, I put on my fresh clothes. I went back into the exam room to wait for the doctor to render her verdict. My filthy, bloody clothes had been removed from the sealed evidence bag and put in another one marked “Patient Belongings”. I looked at them, curiously.

  The waiting was killing me. I stepped out into the hallway to find a doctor or a nurse. But, everyone was tied up. They were dealing with six boys who were involved in a serious car crash and had sustained multiple injuries.

  My medical chart was tucked in the tray outside my door. I opened it and read the contents.

  I had been moved from the Yellow team (all males) to the Pink team (all females). The male nurse also noted that I had “threatened a lawsuit”.

  The doctor noted possible victim of date rape. My toxicology results had been shoved into the binder. They read, negative for drugs and alcohol. No fluids, bruising or genital tears were visible during the examination. No penetration had occurred and patient’s hymen is fully intact. Bleeding attributed to heavy, unexpected menstruation. The physician noted clearly…no signs of sexual assault.

  I was not raped!!

  Performing a happy dance in the middle of the hallway, I thanked the Creator for watching over me and keeping my rare and special gift safe for my future husband. I rarely have a period because of the amount of exercise I get. But, I haven’t been running, practicing or even cheerleading on the field. This is a bye-week. My hormones must have kicked in from inactivity. That’s all…it was just my period sneaking up on me.

  I will have to reimburse Sherry for her clothes and apologize for taking her SUV a second time without obtaining her permission. That’s right…the SUV belongs to Sherry Nodd! She’s Becca’s friend and a cheerleader on my squad. I remember all my sorority sisters, too.

  Tossing all the bloody clothes in
a bio-hazard garbage can, I went to find Audrey. She was sitting behind a curtain, all alone and appeared terrified. Her chart was nowhere to be found.

  “Home please…Christie…home…Andrea…” she stated, repeatedly.

  At least, her words make sense. The ER staff was still overwhelmed by the motor vehicle accident victims. So, I helped myself to the unlocked computer at the nurses’ station. I have to make sure it’s safe to move my friend.

  She had been assigned to the Yellow team. Her toxicology report was negative for intoxicants. Dr. Joel B. had her scheduled for an MRI and wrote possible head trauma. Her rape kit had either, not been processed or the results had not made it into the system. But, if and when those results do come through, the cops and the hospital staff will have questions.

  The pieces of last night were starting to come together for me. Audrey needs to be checked out by an Ava’shay or Tarrish physician. One that can screen for foreign DNA found in other realm dwellers. Whoever attacked her was not from earth. That means, they will likely quarantine Audrey because they won’t be able to figure out where the DNA came from. Who knows how long they will hold her. I’ve got to get her out of here.

  “Tucker please…smile…home…Andrea…” Audrey said when I slipped back into her area.

  “Yes…ssshhhhh…I’ll take you to Tucker and Aunt Angie,” I assured her.

  She still continued asking for them and to go home.

  The ER staff had cut her clothes off of her body, for some reason. I stole the bag of butchered clothes because I didn’t want the police to have any evidence of Audrey being here. The only surveillance cameras were at the entrance of the ER. I had been wearing a hood and Audrey had been staring at the floor. They didn’t get a clear shot of our faces.

  Strangely, I couldn’t find any scrubs, but I finally located a shirt and a pair of pants that would fit my friend. I was in the surgeon’s lounge when I found them. I printed “sorry” on a fifty dollar bill and left it where I found the clothes.

  “Christie gotta get me beaker fishy bowl. Not safe glass and spikes to me. Those boys they lied to surgery…tree-mock…Lyle-lim…get me! They’re not the hurt girls…they’re the hurt tease…I don’t fantastic to you get us to weep…” Audrey stated, frantically to the back wall.

  Using the context, I understood some of what she was saying. Treemar and Lyle were among the six accident victims that were just brought in. She remembers the football players being at the Gray Hook and that they were there to hurt us. Her mind understands the danger if they see us, but she can’t convey it properly. She also doesn’t remember how to ask to be removed from harm’s way.

  “Can you get dressed?” I whispered while trying to keep an eye out for unexpected company.

  “Umpire is least of things…” she replied and tried to put the pants over her head.

  Praying that we wouldn’t get caught, I left my post and assisted her with putting on the pants. Then, I heard footsteps coming our way. I covered her up and motioned for her to stay quiet. I slid under the bed, just in the nick of time.

  “I’m your nurse. Do you know where you are?” he asked, checking on her IV.

  “Hospital…me…Andrea and Christie we…” Audrey said.

  “That’s good. You’re starting to come around. They’ll be in shortly to take you to X-ray. The doctor’s still busy. But, you push the button if you need anything…” the nurse stated before he left.

  “That was a close one. You did great! Now, let’s get out of here…” I told her.

  I pulled the IV out as easily as I could. But, she still winced and started crying.

  “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you…”

  “Agony of days…all agony now pain…no hurt Andrea…” she said.

  I put her blood pressure cuff on the arm of the injured football player one curtain over to keep the alarm from sounding. I also put her pulse/oxygen indicator on his finger. I couldn’t remember his name, but he was definitely one of our would-be attackers.

  I stabbed Audrey’s IV into his forearm. It was only dripping saline solution and he didn’t feel the pain because he was out of it completely. But, the mean little act of revenge made me happy.

  “Stupid Punk, the authorities think you were in a car wreck, but that’s my handiwork. I’m very proud of it too…” I whispered to him.

  I didn’t have as much cash on me as I thought I did. Keeping one hundred dollars, I left the rest to cover our hospital bills.

  Audrey could finally walk under her own power. That was the only thing going in our favor, though. She wanted to talk and I didn’t have the heart to put my hand over her mouth. She’s been through so much already. It seems to make her feel better to ramble, too. So, we waited until the nurse went into an actual room before we made our escape.

  An orderly shouted and asked where we were going. He also said something about security. I kept my gaze on the ground, held Audrey’s hand and she talked all the way to the vehicle.

  We hid in Sherry’s SUV until the coast was clear. I had to stop for gas, before I drove us back to my sorority.

  It was still early. The gypsy spy that was supposed to be watching the guest lot was still conked out. Audrey finally wound down. She was wide-eyed and quiet. We went into my bedroom and she fell asleep before her head could touch the pillow.

  I need g-mom, but I don’t know how to contact her. My entire life is programmed into my cell phone. I can’t remember my own phone number, much less anyone else’s. I can’t get another one turned on anyway without some form of ID to prove I am who I say I am.

  I can see how that scenario will play out…

  “I need to have a cell phone turned on with my old number. I don’t have a license. You’ll just have to take my word that I am who I say I am. Oh, and I can’t remember the phone number attached to my cell, but here’s my physical address. The bill doesn’t come to me, though. It goes to an address in the Ava’shay realm, you’ve heard of it, right??”

  I can’t even go to the registrar’s office and look up my emergency contact information because again, I have no ID. I can’t even say it was stolen because I have to show them a police report to prove it. And, I do not want to involve the authorities.

  I actually don’t know which address my parent’s use for our cell phone bill, regardless. I assume it goes to our family’s accountant. I have his number stored in my phone, but I have never been to his office. I don’t even know what state it’s in…probably North Carolina. I couldn’t berate myself too badly. After all, most people don’t memorize information anymore. They rely on their cell phone, just like me.

  Laughing at the absurdity, I have suddenly become an island unto myself. I can’t even go out, anymore because the shift changed. I have four fresh watchers guarding all four sides of my house. And I don’t have Jarron’s phone number memorized either.

  Changing the sheets on my bed, I had an epiphany. Jules has Angie’s cell number. And, she will have mine too – not that having my number will help me. I snuck downstairs to use the house phone and called the diner. The cook said Jules is out sick. He offered to take a message, with a hurried tone. I’m fairly sure that he didn’t write down anything, although I did leave a message.

  I have Audrey’s cell, but I don’t have the charger for it. Plus, she won’t have the new cell number for her aunt. I don’t plan on letting her out of my sight again until I get her medically cleared.

  Stuck until someone comes to rescue me, I spent Friday morning searching through my things. I did it on the off chance that I had written down contact information for any of my family members. I didn’t.

  Aggravated, I attempted to open the tether between me and Zander. Squeezing my eyes shut, concentrating and stomping around from frustration did not do the trick.

  Could my family be ignoring me?

  My salvation finally arrived on my doorstep late that afternoon. J
arron came over to check on me. I jumped into his arms, overcome with relief. I started crying. He misinterpreted my emotional reaction.

  “Were you with Lyle when he had his car wreck??” Jarron practically shouted.

  I shook my head and attempted to get myself back under control.

  “You can chill…he’s fine. Already back at his frat and being obnoxious from what I hear…”

  “I’m not upset over him. I lost my ID, credit cards and cell phone. I can’t remember anyone’s number, including my own. My watchdogs never give me a break…”

  “So, that’s why your phone is going straight to voicemail. You didn’t tell me how long before you needed my services again. Karin was worried that you were keeping your cell turned off to send a covert message like: stop bugging me…” he said with a snicker.

  “That’s funny…”

  “Then, why are you still cryin’?”

  “Relief…it sucks being an island…”

  “Just how long have you been homebound, anyway?” he asked, using the male avoidance tactic of subject changing.

  “It feels like forever…” I responded, cryptically.

  I don’t typically fall apart in front of other people. But, my stress level had been building with no way to vent it. Jarron wasn’t entirely comfortable being my shoulder to cry on. He still valiantly hung in there until I pulled myself back together.

  “I’ve got your number, of course. But, I’ve also got your g-mom’s cell programmed. See you’ve been bawling over nothing…” he told me.

  “I’m female…that happens a lot…”

  “Tell me something I don’t know…” Jarron stated and rolled his eyes.

  My call went to her voicemail after three rings. I left her a message and marked it as urgent. Ava’shay Command automatically receives a copy when anyone in my family red-flags a message. They will locate her as soon as possible.

  I knew my message would scare the life out of her when she gets it. But, I need her to come to me. I have too many problems and no way to fix any of them on my own.

  Why hasn’t anyone from my family attempted to check on me?? Zander hasn’t even dialed our tether since the Warming…

  The worry was an exercise in futility. My family members are overwhelmed with responsibilities.

  Audrey hadn’t even rolled over, but I can’t leave her alone because I don’t know if she will wake up lucid enough to understand a note. She could wander away and into Lester’s hands…or into someone far worse.

  Jarron clocked-in and delivered a message to Jules’ diner for me. Then, he brought me and Audrey some food.

  “You sure you don’t need me for a few hours. Karin will understand. I’d be happy to spot you some cash to get a new phone…” Jarron asked tentatively.

  “Keep your date plans, but come back after. Audrey’s been sick and I can’t leave her alone. Besides my g-mom will come here as soon as she gets the message. Can’t scare her twice in one day…we have a running bargain. Thanks for everything. You’re a true friend…” I told him.

  Jarron went out on his date, returned, went grocery shopping for me and I still had no word from g-mom. Nearly sick from worry, I looked at the twelve dollars I had left between me and starvation. Something has to be wrong. My phone didn’t come back on at 5:00 p.m. and no one is worried about that anomaly???

  Collecting change from every area I could think of, I managed to scrape together twenty dollars. Jarron returned with a disposable cell phone that had a whopping forty five minutes of air time. I will just have to use them conservatively.

  Although Audrey was mostly comatose, she occasionally woke up. During those times, she kept saying “home” and repeating the physical address of the Gray Hook. I would placate her by agreeing to take her home, but we never went anywhere. She didn’t fight me or try to run away either. But I had to force her to eat, drink and use the restroom. If I wasn’t tending to her basic needs, she would have already died on me. I helped her bathe and dressed her in Wally Baxter’s jersey.

  “That jersey looks like a dress on you. But, that and your stolen outfit is your entire wardrobe until I get rescued from my island, Sleeping Beauty…” I told a slumbering Audrey.

  I spent most of the night watching her sleep. I used Saturday morning to catch up on homework. I didn’t want my sorority sisters to find out I had company, again. Without Tray to persuade them of anything, I knew I would be fighting an uphill battle. I couldn’t let them throw Audrey out, even though they have every right to make me.

  Fortunately, most of my sisters have boyfriends’ and things to do on Saturdays. My single housemates decided to go out to see a movie together. They invited me, but I politely declined.

  Incredible…one night I’m able to pay a fifteen hundred dollar bar tab and a few days later I can’t afford a matinee movie ticket – riches to rags, Baby…that’s me.

  All caught up on my assignments, I was still determined to take my mind off of my missing family. So, I spent Saturday afternoon trying to research the Gray Hook, but there was nothing to be found. No internet mention, no trace of its existence…even in the county tax records.

  A cursory search of GZ Enterprises got me no closer to finding out anything. The clubs were listed. Several executives were on an embedded page that I didn’t see the last time I looked at it – still no mention of Nigel Gray.

  The pictures of the executives look off…fake, maybe. I wonder if there is an encrypted code buried in the pixels. I stared at one of them until my eyes were crossing. If there is an encoded message, the naked eye can’t see it.

  The house bands each have a dedicated page to their work. Dark Matter’s tab listed their status as “No Longer Affiliated or Under Contract”. Hours elapsed, but I was no closer to solving the puzzle.

  Thinking back through the horror that happened is the only way I might discover something useful. I have been actively avoiding doing that. I wasn’t evading the memories because I was scared to face them, though. I need g-mom to help me sort through the details.

  Having been “hooked”, I don’t trust my own examination of the occurrence. Judging which parts were real and which parts were fictions resulting from the “Weaving influence” would be better scrutinized by g-mom.

  Still, if I don’t occupy my mind with something I will obsess about my family. At least now, I know just how they felt when they couldn’t find me all those long hours…worse than awful. At least they had each other, whereas I am bankrupt on a deserted island.

  The masked demon, who I decided to nickname Spike, had offered me a few pieces of useful information. He said Nigel has never been to the Gray Hook and the girls are self-delivered. That seems logical.

  Apparently, Gray screens all potential staff members for GZE. He employs them and sends the ‘right’ girls to that location to ‘live’. But, how does he choose which goes where?

  Nell is single, young and attractive. Why didn’t he send her to the Gray Hook? There has to be some type of criteria he uses and she didn’t meet it.

  What is the logical criterion a lecherous Polecat might use?

  I didn’t see any other employee on staff Thursday night – not even a bouncer in the Hook’s lobby. But, someone else there was familiar to me besides Lyle and Audrey. Who else was…

  Oh yeah, singing…beautiful singing…Dinah Lynn. That’s right! I thought I heard her singing from somewhere inside the building. She disappeared from school, abruptly and must be mentally trapped at the Gray Hook.

  So, what do Dinah Lynn and Audrey have in common?

  I don’t know too much about Dinah Lynn. She’s a great singer, actress and seemed friendly. She didn’t hang out with anyone in particular…not in drama at least. She doesn’t have popular friends and that’s odd, given her incredible talents and her starring roles. Her clothes were normal, off the shelf and unremarkable. I don’t know what she drives, if anything. I don’t kn
ow her friends. I don’t know where she used to live. I don’t know anything about her…so why am I thinking about this???

  I stuffed my face in my pillow to muffle an exasperated scream.

  “I …hate…being…an…island…” I loudly informed the photograph of my family.

  “Christie?” Audrey asked, scared.

  “Yes…it’s me, Krista. Are you okay??”

  “Andrea…home…island…Krista…”

  “Yes Audrey, you are with me at my home…”

  “Island Audrey home…please…”

  Audrey remained awake for twenty minutes, staying confused and disoriented for the duration. She confirmed that others girls are being held at the Gray Hook. After offering me the physical address to it, she insisted that is the place she lives in with her adopted island sisters. Even though she repeatedly demanded to be returned to her loving island home, she held a death grip on my bedpost and was vigorously shaking her head “no” when she stated it.

  Law enforcement wouldn’t know what to make of her if they picked her up. They would probably assume she has a mental disorder. They would take her to her home address because she doesn’t have any ID. They would speak to…

  Wait, who would they speak to anyway?

  If all the girls are under the influence of the Weaving and have been trained to parrot that information, then someone would likely be on sight acting like a loving, worried parent. They would tell the police what they wanted to hear. Thank them for returning their “special needs” daughter who wandered away.

  Audrey’s clothes had been cut off of her body by the hospital staff. But, it was an expensive outfit. Although she is mentally addled, physically she appears perfectly healthy. The police would likely hand her over to her kidnapper and, although she is a hostage, she would walk inside willingly.

  That has to be the most diabolically wicked gambit in history. The person(s) playing the part of the parent has to be the most despicable kind of evil. But, they must also be a fantastic chameleon…a wolf posing as a sheep…a con artist to beat all con artists.

  Nigel Gray is not capable of perpetrating a ruse at that level. So, if he’s not the parent then, who runs the Gray Hook?

  “You…island…me…island…home we…sisters island…” Audrey mumbled in her sleep.

  She’s right. I’m an island and she’s an island.

  I am currently in the same position as Audrey. Well, minus the no roof over my head part. But, if my sisters were to discover my unauthorized bunk mate, they could kick me out with her. So, maybe there’s not much difference between us after all.

  G-mom is the only reason I didn’t grow up in foster care…find myself living on the streets…or being prostituted by some twisted pedophile. Audrey’s mom abandoned her and her dad was abusive. I could’ve been the one lying on that mattress and she could’ve been the one sitting in this computer chair.

  You…me…we…sisters…islands…

  Could that be it??? Is Dinah Lynn estranged from her family???

  That was something I couldn’t find out. I would only frustrate myself by playing the guessing game again.

  There must be something I can discover that will lead me to the truth?

  Maybe I can get information on the Gray Hook…Audrey’s house of horrors.

  Who can give it to me?

  Ice Man…no.

  Nigel Gray…big fat no.

  Nell…Nell might be able to give me something! She works for GZE…

  I started my timer and called HaZed.

  “No personal calls…” the guy who answered curtly stated.

  “Don’t you recognize my voice?? This isn’t personal, Dimwit. It’s me! Give her this number, now and tell her to call me or else I’m gunning for you – got it??” I replied forcefully.

  “Sure thing…you. Sorry…it’s loud in here,” he told me.

  I hung up and giggled. G-mom would have been rolling in the floor.

  Nell called me a few minutes later, sounding apprehensive.

  “Hi Nell, this is Krista…um, Christie do you remember who I am?”

  “Aren’t you the sorority chick with the Ice Man and death-wish fetishes?”

  “Right…listen, I’m trying to track down another friend…”

  “Thanks for calling and somehow, forcing Adolph the Jerkwad in there to give me an extra twenty minute smoke break. But, I still can’t get you backstage…” she said.

  “It’s nothing like that. I have a friend, Dinah Lynn Paulowski…”

  “What’s up with you knowing every girl that works at Gray’s Place? You looking for a job out there?” she questioned and I heard her take a drag off of her cigarette.

  “No, I’m definitely not looking for a job at that place. I’m just the lucky gal who keeps misplacing her friends at Gray’s establishments.”

  “Yeah, I know Dinah Lynn. She auditioned to sing at a private party. I was stocking BlitZed the day she tried out. That’s where everyone auditions. She was friendly and seemed normal enough. Gray liked what he heard and she got the job.

  “The last time I saw that girl, she was headed into SizZle. She went from wearing Target’s finest at her audition to Sax Fifth and had on the marked, Double Z bracelet. I shoulda been paying better attention before I approached her for a chat. I was passing by on my way to work and was just gonna shoot the breeze with her for a minute. But, she gave me the mute brush off. Caught the GH diva-disease…

  “A girl’s gotta be special to get on at the Hook…” Nell offered in an envious tone.

  “What kind of special?”

  “Beats me! All I know is I didn’t make the cut. I did manage to get this sweet enough job bartending. Gray isn’t what I’d call warm and fuzzy. When he hired me, he said, “I’ll give you a try. You can sling drinks at SizZle if you show enough cleavage to give Ice Man a stiff rising, ‘Lil Filly. I’ll move you to a better club if you prove you’ve got what it takes. But, Hook material…you ain’t…”

  “So, he didn’t give you a real reason?”

  “No. He didn’t even tell me what I had to prove to get promoted. I learned as I went along. The only skills he’s looking for in his female bartenders are bouncy cleavage, not pissing off a paying customer and not complainin’ when some dirty old geezer cops a cheap feel. All Gray ever personally gave me was a nasty look and a pinch on the butt, once. Oh and I think he called me a “too skinny Beader” this one time, but who knows? I wasn’t going to ask him to repeat his insult.

  “I mind my business and wear tight, low cut shirts. I laugh at jokes I don’t get and stroke a few arms. I don’t slap hands away and I nixed the word “no” from my language. For that effort, I’ve been promoted and make more than triple what I started out making. I also get to keep all my tips. I don’t have to share them with nobody.

  “I’ve never asked to work at the Hook, again because Gray said I’m not the right material. He’s a scummy worm, but it’s best to stay off his radar. If he even thinks about someone for too long, they normally get canned.

  “Just look at what happened to Dark Matter. They had some ironclad legal contract and not even that kept them employed. Gray ran all of them out of town…” she revealed and shut up.

  “Nigel’s got some juice in this city…” I stated, stalling and trying to think of a tactful way to ask her a personal question about her family.

  The timer on my phone is ticking down…

  Then, as fate would have it, Nell would just offer the answer without me having to ask her anything.

  “My dad used to be one of his paper product’s suppliers until his route got changed. He says Gray’s got connections with organized crime. He told me to keep my nose to myself, my head down and not make any waves if I went to work for him. So, that’s what I’m doing…” Nell informed me.

  “That’s a good idea. I’ve heard the same thing. Oh Nell, do you happen to know Dinah Lynn’s parents?” />
  “No…”

  “Any chance you could get me a guest card key to the Gray Hook?” I asked, casually.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Not really. I need to talk to Dinah…”

  “Saul tried to warn me that I’d be asking for trouble when I broke policy and took you out back for a smoke…” Nell informed me.

  “I’m really not trying to get you in trouble…I promise…”

  “Then, why do you keep asking me to get you into restricted areas that could get me fired?”

  “I’d never ask you to compromise your job. I just didn’t know getting in there was that big of a deal…”

  “Maybe you should get a new set of friends instead of hunting down your old ones…less chance of getting either one of us in trouble…”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “The special girls who get on at Gray’s place transform into diva-ice-queens. They sever their ties to the past when they put on that bracelet or they don’t have any to begin with. Gray doesn’t like to hire anyone with too many personal strings. That way he doesn’t have to deal with jealous spouses or employees calling out because of a sick kid. He doesn’t advertise his discrimination, but we all know about it. Girls who work at the Hook don’t have family ties to anyone that I know of. No one’s ever come looking for them, at least. Gray likes unattached singles. I even keep my relationship with Tyson quiet. No one who works for GZE knows we’re a couple…and I mean no one.

  “Wait, I remember…you wanted to see the skeezy drummer to find his fiancée. Gray got wind of his attachment and word has it he gave your friend a choice – glitzy job or skeezy drummer. She cut the skeez. The band got their contract burned that night. Gray doesn’t like relationship attachments. I don’t wanna be the next head on the chopping block. So, thanks again for getting me this break, but I’m gonna hang up and pretend we…” Nell told me.

  “No stop! I’ve got limited minutes on this phone. Dante didn’t get canned because of his relationship with Audrey. He got axed because he wouldn’t help me. I needed a microphone to use during the big private party my family hosted Sunday – you remember the one, right?”

  “Yeah…I worked at Ground Zero…the tips were unreal.”

  “Gray asked Dante to sign a waiver and lend me the band’s equipment for a few hours. He refused and didn’t even say “no” in person. I think he replied with a text.

  “Bruno booked it over to BlitZed and was kind enough to loan me a few of his mics, including his sacred Lucille. I went down to the basement with him to get what I needed out of his storage cage. Sebastian found us and told me to beat it because I’m not authorized to be in that area.

  “It’s like a rat’s maze in that basement as I’m sure you know. I got lost. And, I overheard Bruno and Ice Man talking before I found my way back to the exit. I knew Dark Matter was headed out the door. I needed to talk to Dante before his date with the GZE guillotine…” I informed her.

  “No way! I thought Bruno was BS’ing me when he told me that crap. No one with half-a-brain-cell refuses to do something for their new boss. But, Gray’s got a reputation for axing employees just for not saying “yes” fast enough. What kinda dopey skeezy drum-pounder does that??”

  “That title is actually an understatement. Bruno wasn’t fabricating either. That’s what happened. Now you know why I needed to speak with Dante Monday night and it couldn’t wait.

  “I didn’t get him axed. Well, not directly I didn’t. I know you haven’t known me very long, but I swear I’d never bring your name into anything – ever – even if I got cold busted and hauled off to a county facility.

  “I don’t go out clubbing. You’re the only person I know that works there besides Sebastian. I’m sure you’re aware that Ice Man makes Gray look like a lamb, snuggling with a stuffed animal…”

  “I’ll give you that. But, if you wanna keep being my friend, you gotta stop asking about other employees. People hear everything around this place. And, an accusation that I’m handing out info about GZE staff is all it takes to get me canned. I have limited access and no real information on anybody who works here except my boyfriend, Tyson. He only bounces for private parties. Gray won’t even staff him full-time because he’s not scary-goonish enough,” she stated.

  “Well, I’d say sorry to hear that. But, the less scary-goon-like a boyfriend is, the better…” I quipped.

  “I’ll tell you what I know about Gray’s place, on the condition that my name is kept out of it. Don’t call me at work, anymore or on my cell if you know I’m bartending. The unexpected smoke break was cool, once. But, if I lose my job because you keep popping up, I’m hunting you down to pay my bills…”

  “I promise…and thanks. I’ll owe you another favor…”

  “You’re welcome and I’ll collect someday. To get an electronic pass key to the Gray Hook requires certain things. It’s not like a hotel where they hand them out for money at the counter. You have to start by getting listed for Select Sunday’s at SizZle. I don’t know how that’s accomplished.

  “I’ve seen plenty of VIP’s, Hollywood headliners, some pro athletes, CEO’s, even saw an oil baron wearing a sheet, go in for a good time. Select Sunday is full of a bunch of elite Jerkwads that have way more money than sense in their heads. The listed Jerkwads are called charters. Charters have to earn status to bring guests. I think every guest has got a stamp that’s not visible except under a Flurenesscal Scanner. I don’t know what the stamps say or what the scanner does, but it’s not anything like a black light.

  “Most of the Hook girls serve drinks to the privileged Jerkwads in the main area. Those seats are all the way around a stage. The bar’s behind a privacy wall, so I didn’t see much of the action. There’s also a private area, somewhere. The orders come in via a computer. A Hook waitress swings by, takes the drink and then vanishes. I didn’t ask them where they go to and they never told me.

  Hook girls wear dresses that are worth more than what I make in a year and they have diva attitudes to match. Not a one ever warmed up to me in all the weeks I worked there. If I tried to strike up a conversation, the stuck-up snobs would look at me like I was talking slime from the sewer bottom.

  “Those girls must make an enormous salary because the rich Jerkwads are horrible tippers. Most of their drinks are comped by Gray, but I’d pour thousands of dollars of booze. The Jerkwads make plenty of bank. And, you’d think a comped check would make them extra generous toward the bartender and the waitress. That never happens. The Jerkwads have this inside-joke. They would write 50% on the tip line. But, half of nothing is still nothing. I hated working for SizZle on Sunday nights.

  “None of the employees are ever allowed to grant access to anyone. That’s a privilege exclusive to the Jerkwad cheapskate clientele with status. Ice Man rarely makes an appearance on that property. It’s not good business to crack open the rich, dense skulls of the high and mighty Jerkwads of the world or their friends. There are not any policies to break or rules that I’m aware of. Anything goes for the men and women listed at SizZle.

  “Ice Man doesn’t discriminate in his security duties and he’s set in his ways. He’d probably start an international incident if he spent too much time watching what goes on at that freak show. And remember, I barely saw anything from my vantage point. Not even Ice Man can get you a guest stamp into SizZle.

  “My mom tried to drop off some medicine one night when I was working there. She didn’t even want to come inside. She just asked the big, ugly goon running the front door to give me the bag I needed. I didn’t get the meds that night.

  “That incident happened over two years ago, but still if I mention that night, my mom starts bawling. I don’t know what Goon Man did or said to her. She wouldn’t even tell my dad what happened.

  “I woulda quit when that goon dissed my mom, but Gray moved me to Ground Zero before I could te
ll him to blow his job out his butt. I decided to work it one night to see if I liked it any better. Gray gave me a raise and the tips are decent. Ground Zero only gets normal Jerkwads and no diva girls looking to spit in my face with a cold stare.

  “So, I apologized to my mom for whatever Goon Man did and told her she’d never have to bring me anything to my work again. I also promised my dad I’d keep a low profile and bail if anything sketchy happened. That’s what I do…” Nell offered.

  “Only SizZle listed Jerkwads can get into the Gray Hook?”

  “Not even all of those Jerkwads earn a key. Gray probably has a clientele material system or something. He doesn’t publicize it. But, from what I’ve seen, Hook material girls or being a key card carrier are the only two ways to get inside…” she told me.

  Ten minutes left…

  “What about their liquor and other supplies? Does your dad’s company still deliver?

  “My dad’s company still has the contract, yeah. But, it won’t do you any good to intercept it or get a job driving. Gray Hook and SizZle stock is delivered to BlitZed during the off hours. Then, it’s separated and shuttled to both through an armored truck company. That’s so stupid…booze, napkins and toilet paper being carted around under guard and gun.”

  “Sounds ludicrous…you’re right,” I agreed.

  Nigel must screen women to determine which ones won’t be readily missed by their families. Then, he offers them a boat load of money and an exclusive career. The poor naïve girl goes into it thinking it’s a normal waitressing job. She feels lucky to find something with fashion/jewelry perks and a large salary. Then, she gets hooked and that’s all she wrote.

  Nell told me that the private area hidden inside SizZle is like a fortress inside of Fort Knox. She also shared everything she knows about the main layout, which wasn’t much beyond the lobby bathrooms’. She wasn’t allowed to even take a smoke break when she worked there.

  Although I wanted to know if she had any details about the security cameras that seem to be pointed at nothing, she stopped me short.

  “Steer clear of any camera…well, unless you want that free ride to the county jail with a quick stopover at the nearest hospital on the way. They’re all live feeds and monitored by nasty goons that I’m too scared to even speak to…” she revealed before my phone cut us off.

 

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