“My sister was addicted to that shit. Messed her up good. Got enough problems without turning into a junkie.”
“Oh please! A single pill is not going to turn you into a junkie. It’ll just help you sleep. You won’t get addicted.” Labrys pressed Shea’s hand closed around the pill.
Labrys’ fingers felt so cool, so hauntingly familiar. Her scent once again pulled sensual memories to the surface, memories Shea had worked hard to erase. This was the real drug.
“Fine. Just one.” From the freezer, Shea pulled out a bottle of vodka. She took a swig, swallowed the pill, then chased it with another mouthful. “Going to bed now.”
“Need any help getting undressed?” Labrys asked with a chuckle.
“Not from you.”
In her bedroom, Shea shooed Ninja off her pillow and gingerly wriggled out of her clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. Jessica would have insisted she put them in the clothes hamper. But Jessica wasn’t there.
As exhausted as she was, when she slipped under the sheets, she couldn’t get comfortable. Everything hurt. How long’s this shit take to kick in? she wondered. Ninja insisted on snuggling up against her, purring loudly and leaving Shea feeling uncomfortably warm, even in the cool room.
What the hell am I gonna do? How am I gonna stop Bonefish and Lizzie Black without putting anyone else at risk? I don’t know where the hell they are.
After what felt like hours, she drifted into a series of bizarre dreams. She found herself pulling off on the side of the road where two cagers were doing something to a body. The cagers, a man and a woman, jumped into their car and fled. Shea rushed to the body to see it was Jessica. Shea’s heart leapt as she searched for a pulse.
After Shea had almost given up hope, Jess opened her eyes. “I missed you,” she said.
“Missed you, too, babe,” said Shea, showering her with tears and kisses.
Suddenly they were no longer on the side of the road, but in bed, kissing, caressing. Jess was sucking on Shea’s nipple, a hand between Shea’s thighs.
“Oh God, that feels amazing.”
“I thought you’d like that.” But the voice was wrong. The aroma of tropical flowers and vanilla evoked distant memories.
Shea woke to find Debbie wrapped around her.
Shea gasped and pushed her away. “Deb, what the hell?” Her head swam in a pillowy haze from the Percocet.
“What’s wrong? Just a second ago you were into it.”
“I…you…” Shea rubbed her eyes as she separated dream from reality. “I…I was dreaming.”
“Oh?” A coy smile played across Labrys’ face. “So you were dreaming about me, huh?”
Shea brought up her knees and cradled her head. “Not exactly.”
Labrys sat sideways on the bed and rested her hand on Shea’s thigh. Warmth radiated from Shea’s crotch. Sexual need became a gravitational force urging Shea to respond. But she wanted to remain loyal to Jessica.
Why should I be faithful? Jess dumped me. I’m free to fuck who I want, when I want. And right now I want Deb.
Still Shea resisted, avoiding her ex-girlfriend’s gaze. “Deb, we had a deal. You’re sleeping on the couch. Scout’s honor, remember?”
“Truth is, they kicked me out of Girl Scouts after Megan Levine’s mother caught us making out.”
“Gee, what a surprise.”
“I know you think I’m a manipulative monster. And maybe I was back then. But I’ve changed. Our break-up taught me how selfish I was.” Debbie planted a series of kisses starting at Shea’s knee, moving up to her lips.
The pull of sexual gravity intensified, drawing Shea relentlessly into free fall. She uncurled her body, opened herself to Debbie’s affections. As she did so, the bullet wound on her side burned sharply.
“No, I can’t do this. Jessica…”
“Jessica isn’t here. She abandoned you, remember? But I’m here. For you. In your time of need.”
“But…” Shea wrestled with the conflicting emotions, her mind muddled with painkillers, loneliness, and need.
“Shhh…” Debbie put a finger to Shea’s lips.
Shea looked up. Debbie’s eyes glimmered in the dim light. Underneath all the mind games and manipulations, there was that same loneliness and vulnerability Shea was feeling. A longing to connect on multiple levels.
“I missed you,” Shea said without thinking about it.
“I never stopped loving you.”
Debbie kissed the bandage above Shea’s breast. The aching of the bullet wound transformed, intensifying into pleasure as Deb’s lips teased Shea’s nipples. Shea’s back arched. She pulled Deb on top of her, letting their bodies grind together in a rhythm driven by her racing pulse and unlocked memories.
Shea’s strong, callused fingers found the familiar places that always drove Deb to ecstasy. Deb gasped as Shea pushed deeper inside her. All anger, guilt, and pain dissolved in a primordial state of bliss and oneness.
When their passions had peaked, Deb collapsed next to Shea on the bed, each of them breathing hard. Shea’s pulse raced, her mind numb, as if shorted out with a flood of endorphins.
But as the euphoria faded, guilt once again crept in. The bullet wound throbbed despite the woozy feeling in her head. Shea wasn’t ready to let go of her relationship with Jessica, but now she’d ruined any chance of getting back together. She curled into a fetal position, turning her back on Labrys.
“Hey, come here, lover,” said Debbie, nibbling at Shea’s ear.
“Stop.”
“Uh-oh. Here comes the guilt. You were always so good at beating yourself up.”
“I betrayed Jessica.”
“Oh please! That bitch broke up with you.”
“Don’t call her that.” Shea faced Debbie. “What Jessica and I have is special.”
“And yet here we are. Couldn’t have been that special now, could it?”
“Don’t give me any of your pseudopsychoanalytical bullshit. You have no idea what she and I have.”
“Had.”
“Get out.”
“What?”
Shea stood up and stumbled as the change in position made the room swim. “Get the fuck out of my house!”
“Oh, you’ll fuck me, then shame me into leaving. Even with that psycho drug dealer on the warpath. We need to stick together, Havoc.”
Shea gritted her teeth. “Fine. Go back and sleep on the couch.”
Labrys stormed out of the room. “You know, we could have something special if you just got out of your head long enough to stop fucking it up.”
Shea slammed the bedroom door closed and collapsed onto the bed. Ninja leapt onto Shea’s chest. “Get the fuck off me, ya damn cat.”
Ninja scurried off the bed and shimmied up the carpeted kitty tower, settling into the circular platform on top.
Shea lay there, her mind racing. What the fuck’d I do? She couldn’t even picture Jessica’s face. Guilt tightened her chest, making it hard to breathe. I’m such a horrible person.
Shame-filled thoughts chased each other through her head, desperately searching for a way to make everything all right. But there was no way to do it.
Eventually, she drifted back into a troubled sleep filled with dreams of wandering naked and barefoot through a postapocalyptic landscape. Plague-infested rats scurried among decaying bodies and smoldering ruins. A dirty wind howled and rattled through the broken windows of buildings.
A gunshot ripped her out of the nightmare and back into reality.
Chapter 49
Shea bolted upright, her heart thudding in her chest. Predawn light cast a hazy glow across the bed. She listened, hoping the gunshot was just a part of the nightmare.
“Oh. Oh shit. Oh Goddess,” came a voice from outside the bedroom.
Shea opened her nightstand for her Glock. It wasn’t there. Fuck! Where the hell is it?
She remembered the fight from the night before. Her pistol was somewhere in the Iron Goddess workshop. She dashed
to her walk-in closet, keeping the lights off. Her fingers found the small gun safe on the top shelf, tapped in the code from muscle memory, and pulled out a small Smith & Wesson Bodyguard .380.
She was still naked but didn’t care. Clothes wouldn’t stop a bullet and she didn’t have time to put on her Kevlar vest. She had to deal with the threat now. She chambered a round and opened the door as slowly as she could. It creaked, setting her nerves further on edge. No one in the hallway.
From the living room came the clacking of someone working the slide of a gun. Shea raised the Smith & Wesson, finger hovering above the trigger, and inched along the wall. A string of profanity followed the ting-ting of loose bullets falling on the living room floor.
In a surge of adrenaline, Shea rounded the corner and aimed her pistol at the figure sitting on the couch. “Freeze!”
Debbie whipped around, a look of shock and fear on her face. She dropped the Glock she’d been holding and it clattered to the floor. “Don’t shoot! It’s just me.”
“What the fuck!” Shea’s pulse was pounding in her ears. She lowered the Bodyguard and set it on a nearby table. “Did you just fire your gun in my house?”
“I…I didn’t mean to. It just went off. By accident.”
“By accident?”
“I mean, it was unloaded, and I was dry-firing it to break it down like it says in the manual.” Deb picked the Glock off the floor and held up a small booklet. “How could it fire if I’d taken the clip out?”
Heat and anger gripped Shea. “First of all, you moron, it’s called a magazine, not a clip. Second, you obviously didn’t clear the chamber before you pulled the goddamned trigger.”
“Clear the what?”
Shea rubbed her temple as she took a deep breath, resisting the fury curling her hands into fists. “Get the fuck out.”
“Shea, I am your president.”
“Not in my home you’re not. You’re a mistake. You’re my history come back to haunt me. And I want you out of here.”
Debbie stood tall, a defiant look on her face. “You gonna make me, tough girl?”
Shea narrowed the distance between them in a heartbeat and aimed the Smith & Wesson at Deb’s face. “You really don’t wanna test me right now,” she growled.
“You’re fucking crazy, you know that? Just give me a second to get my shit together.”
“I’ll give you five. Four…three…”
Labrys slipped into her shoes and grabbed her purse and coat. “What about my gun?”
Shea laid the Smith & Wesson on the coffee table and picked up the Glock. In a flash, she pulled and locked the slide back, then handed it to Labrys grip first. “That’s how you fucking clear the chamber, you twit.”
Deb tucked the Glock in her purse. When she reached for the magazine and a box of ammo on the coffee table, Shea pushed them away.
“You can have those back once you take a safety course or two. Last thing we need’s you shooting someone by accident.”
Deb glowered at her. “You’re going to regret this, Havoc.”
“I already do. Two…One.” She took a step toward Debbie, fist raised.
“Okay, I’m leaving. Geez Louise!” Labrys stormed out the door and slammed it behind her.
Shea collapsed on the love seat and buried her face in her hands. Ninja hopped onto the coffee table, meowing to be fed.
“Why the fuck did I let her in here, Ninja?”
Ninja batted at something metallic on the table. Shea pushed the cat away and picked up Debbie’s silver labrys earrings. After all that shit, why do you still have a hold over me?
She walked to the breakfast bar and dropped the earrings in an enameled dish where she and Jessica kept their keys. Next to the dish, a framed photograph lay facedown. She righted it.
The photograph was one Terrance had taken of Shea and Jessica. Cracks in the glass radiated out from a hole that had been punched through the image of Jessica’s face. There was a matching hole in the wall next to the fridge. “Jesus fucking Christ.” She pulled the bottle of vodka out of the freezer and had a long drink.
—
At nine forty-five that morning, Shea arrived at Iron Goddess to retrieve her Glock. The Smith & Wesson was tucked in an ankle holster, just in case Bonefish and Lizzie Black made an encore appearance.
To her surprise, Terrance’s 1956 industrial green Ford Hauler pickup and Lakota’s 1950 Harley Panhead were parked in the parking lot.
Shea walked into the workshop. “Hello?”
A rapping on the office’s window drew Shea’s attention. Terrance beckoned her with his finger. As Shea crossed the workshop floor, she spotted her Glock on the floor. She holstered it and continued on into the office.
“Morning,” she mumbled.
“You all right, girl?” asked Lakota in a mothering voice. She hugged Shea tightly.
“Ow, ow, ow.” Shea pulled away, her hand pressing against the bullet wound under her arm.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Lakota took Shea’s face in her hand and looked her over. “What in the world happened to you?”
Shea grasped Lakota’s hands in her own and pulled them away from her face. “Long story. What are y’all doing here? I thought we agreed to keep the shop closed until this situation is resolved.”
“I have a ten o’clock conference call with Renegade Engine Works,” explained Lakota. “Took me weeks to set this up.”
“And I didn’t want her here by herself,” added Terrance.
Shea nodded. “Ever the gentleman, eh, T?”
Terrance shrugged. “So Chlöe Stansbury really did this to you?” asked Terrance.
“Her and some Amazon named Lizzie Black.”
“Lizzie Black?” Lakota’s eyes narrowed. “Built like a WNBA player?”
“And hits like a sledgehammer.”
Lakota blanched. “I think I know this person. You got her on video, right?”
“Yeah.” Shea pulled up the security feed on her computer and showed Lakota and Terrance.
Lakota covered her mouth. “Shit, I do know her. Terrance and I both do.”
“Lakota…” growled Terrance.
“How?” Shea looked at one then the other. “How the hell do y’all know her?”
Lakota stared at the floor. “I shouldn’t say.”
“Lakota, she nearly killed me. She’s the reason we’re closed. So quit playing games, you two, and tell me where I can find her.”
“We know her from Narcotics Anonymous,” said Terrance matter-of-factly. “I don’t know where she lives. I just see her at meetings. Goes by Lizzie B.”
“Lizzie B., huh? Chlöe Stansbury introduced her as Schwartz,” said Shea.
Terrance nodded. “Makes sense. Schwartz is derived from the German word meaning black.”
“Great. Thanks for that lesson in entomology.”
“Etymology, actually,” said Lakota. “Entomology is the study of bugs.”
“Whatever.” Shea held up her hands in frustration. “Bottom line, I need to know where I can find this bitch. What meetings she go to?”
“Shea, I’m sorry. But it’s anonymous.” Terrance frowned.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Shea clenched her fists. “These people aren’t recovering addicts. They’re drug dealers. Probably trolling the NA meetings for new customers.”
“Be that as it may,” insisted Terrance, “I can’t break NA traditions.”
“Geez, you can really be infuriating sometimes, T.”
“What about Ms. Stansbury?” suggested Lakota.
“What about her?” Shea felt like she was beating her head against a wall. Why don’t they see how important this is?
“You know she works at Optimus Rehab,” said Lakota. “Call that detective friend of yours.”
“Who? Rios?”
“That’s her. Tell Rios that Stansbury and Lizzie attacked you last night. Let them handle it.”
“She’s right,” said Terrance. “The cops can put them behind bar
s without anyone else getting hurt or killed.”
“Rios ain’t my friend. She’s just another one of Buzzkill’s drones. They’re on the Confederate Thunder’s payroll. Monster told me. And even if they weren’t, the recording has Bonefish asking me where her drugs are. Rios hears that, she’s likely to send me back to prison.”
Lakota looked concerned. “You had her drugs? Where?”
“In the top case on my bike,” mumbled Shea.
A vein on Terrance’s teddy bear face throbbed. “You stole illegal drugs from a dealer and brought them here? Are you insane? If the cops found out, they could seize the property.”
“Which is why I’m not calling Rios.”
“Hold on!” said Lakota. “I think I can fix this.”
“How?” asked Shea.
“Scoot over.” Lakota sat down at Shea’s computer. “I’m going to email the video file to myself, okay?”
“Yeah, okay.”
Lakota then pulled her laptop out of a computer bag and opened the video file in an editing program. Screenshots of the video spread across the screen. The audio track appeared below it. Lakota made a few clicks and the audio track vanished. “Now I’ll send this back to you. Tell Rios the security system malfunctioned and didn’t record the audio for some reason.”
“Lakota, you’re a genius.”
“Yeah, so they tell me.”
“Now where can I find Lizzie Black?” Shea said.
“Shea, I can’t.” Lakota winced and looked at Terrance.
“This bitch has murdered several people including my friend Pipes. She nearly killed me.”
Lakota’s jaw dropped. “She killed Pipes? Terrance, we gotta tell her.”
“Fine. Tell her,” Terrance huffed.
“She’s a regular at a two o’clock meeting at the Lambda Resource Center on Red Tanks Trail in Ironwood, just south of the university.”
Shea felt an unexpected burst of strength and energy as she contemplated exacting her revenge. “Thanks.”
Terrance shook his head. “Girl, just let the cops handle it. You’re in no shape to be playing vigilante. You’re beat to shit and you reek of alcohol.”
She fixed her gaze on him. “Nothing is gonna stop me from—”
Terrance’s phone rang. “Elon? Slow down, son! What’s wrong?” His face grew dark with concern. “When did ya see her last? Okay, stay put. We’ll find her, okay? Love you, man.” He hung up and looked up at Shea. “Annie’s missing.”
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