by Joy Redmond
Lance picked up her tiny body and stuffed it into one of the large dumpsters, which was only half full. Then he grabbed some garbage from the dumpster beside it and dropped it on top of her and picked up a mannequin and placed it on top of the garbage. He adjusted his jeans and started walking.
Just as he exited the alley, he saw a garbage truck head down it. Just in the nick of time. Now she’ll be thrown in with the rest of the garbage, where she’ll be ground up. Nobody will ever find a trace of her. He beat his chest and did a silent Tarzan yell. I’m still king of the jungle. The concrete jungle. He smiled. I got my first one for ya, Mr. Wiggins. Just like I promised.
Lance briskly headed back up the street. He counted four blocks, looked to his left and saw the bar where he had picked her up. I’m headed in the right direction. He picked up his pace for another three blocks. He glanced to his left, again. There’s the apartment complex. Damn, which one is Jimmy’s? He spotted the red Caddy. There it is. Now I guess I’ll have to pamper the little titty-baby for taking off.
Just as he raised his hand to knock on the door, Randy opened it. “Oh, Lance. I’m sure glad you came back. I thought I’d made you mad and you’d taken off for good. I was about to go back to the beach and see if I could find you. I didn’t mean to upset ya. I was just telling things the way I saw them. Come on back in, we’ve got to find you a nice outfit.”
Lance gave Randy a charming smile. “Hell, Jimmy. I couldn’t stay mad at you if I tried. I just needed a drink and I needed some time by myself. I’m a loner and I prefer to be by myself for most of the time. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to take a shower, then I’ll have a gander at your fancy duds.”
“You know where your bathroom is. I’ve got plenty of clean towels in the closet in there, and whatever else you might need.”
“Let me see what you’ve got in mind for me to wear, first,” Lance said.
Randy headed to his bedroom. He walked over to his closet and started pushing clothes across the rack. Finally he picked up a navy blue suit, light blue shirt, a multi-colored tie with swirls of red, blue, and black. He laid them across the bed, then picked up a pair of black wingtips and dropped them at the foot of the bed.
“I think I’ll look like a dandy in these duds. Be back in a few.”
Lance quickly showered, then went into Randy’s bedroom and dressed. He admired himself in the full length mirror. Oh, yeah. I’m one handsome dude. Boss Lady gonna like me. He chuckled.
Lance walked back into the living room, Randy gave his approval, and they were on their way.
Chapter Fifteen
As Randy drove up to Beverly Hills, Lance asked, “Is she gonna ask a lot of questions or ask for any kind of ID? I don’t take to that stuff.”
“Nah, she doesn’t question. All she does is look you over. If she sees a money-maker, she’s happy. And she trusts me. She knows I’ll only bring her the best.”
Randy pulled his car into a driveway, then pushed a button on a stand in front of a black iron gate.
“Yeah?” came a deep voice.
“Randy Rhodes.”
“Enter.”
Lance watched the iron gates swing open. “What is all this shit? Why does Boss Lady live behind locked gates? What’s she scared of?”
“It’s for privacy. Trust me. Boss Lady ain’t scared of anything or anybody. She’s one tough lady with a lot of pull. Cross her and she’ll have a contract out on ya in a heartbeat. She’s fair, but if you cross her, you may not live to tell about it.”
Lance chuckled. “If she crosses me, she may not live to tell about it!”
“Lance, man. I wish you wouldn’t talk like that.” He turned off the engine and a burly man opened the car door.
“You know the drill. Get out and back against the car,” said Burly Man. He looked toward Lance. “You stay where you are.” Burly Man quickly frisked Randy. “Okay, you’re clean. Tell your friend to get out and do the same.”
Lance was already out of the car. He gritted his teeth as he backed up and the man came around to his side and frisked him.
“You’re clean too. Go on to the front door.”
Randy started walking and Lance stayed beside him. “What the hell was that all about?”
“Just rules. You’ll get used to it. Now don’t make a scene, kick off your shoes when we go inside and be a gentleman. If you don’t, we’re both out of a job.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Lance mumbled.
They stepped inside, kicked off their shoes, and a black man dressed in what Lance thought was a butler’s uniform, led them down a long hallway. Lance glanced around him, drinking in the splendor, but he wasn’t about to show that he was impressed.
Butler knocked on a door.
A sweet female voice said, “Come in.”
Butler opened the door, then stood aside as Randy and Lance entered the room. Lance could feel his feet sinking into the plush carpet.
Boss Lady was sitting behind a large oak desk. When she saw Lance, a broad smile stretched her ruby red lips. “So what have you got for me, Randy?” Boss Lady walked from the desk and stood beside Lance, eyeing him up and down, and her smile broadened. She rubbed her fingers with inch long nails up and down his arm. “I wouldn’t mind to keep you for my personal boy-toy.”
As she rubbed his arm, Lance flinched. Boss Lady was a heavyset woman with huge breasts, and her hand reminded him of Ruby Hampton’s. He felt a wave of nausea sweep over him, and he hoped he wasn’t showing that he had the urge to grab her by the throat and strangle the life out of her.
Boss Lady laughed and said, “Relax, honey. I don’t bite.” She fluttered her false lashes and added, “Well, maybe a little nip or two now and then.”
Lance forced a smile, but he was chomping at the bit. His first instinct was to slap her stupid face, then hightail it out of the room. But Randy spoke up and broke the spell.
“I told you I’d find the perfect one if I stayed on the beach long enough. So, how did I do?”
Lance thought Randy was acting as if he was a child expecting praise for getting straight A’s on a report card.
“You did good, my little sweetie,” she said, pinching Randy’s cheek. “And you’ll get the bonus I promised.” She took her seat behind the large oak desk and slid a piece of paper under her hand. Looking at Lance, she asked, “So, what do I call you?”
“Just call me Darkheart.”
“Darkheart it is,” she said, writing the name on the piece of paper. She tapped the ballpoint against her teeth and said, “My guess is you’re about twenty, possibly twenty-five?”
“Possibly,” Lance answered.
Lance noticed Randy shifting back and forth on his feet as if he was doing a pee-dance.
Boss Lady smiled at Lance and said, “I think I’ll have a nice client for you later tonight. I need a phone number for you. I’m very strict about my calls. I expect you to be available anytime I give you a ring. And I do have a few rules. Randy can fill you in.”
Randy quickly spoke up. “I’ll fill him in on all the rules, and he’s staying with me for the time being. Call my house. He’ll be available, right?” he said, nervously looking at Lance.
“Yes, I’ll be at Randy’s.” He paused a second then said, “But I prefer women. Natural born women.”
Boss Lady laughed. “I kind of thought so. I don’t force my workers to do anything they’re not comfortable with—but you’ll be missing out on big money if you only escort the kind you prefer. Sometimes we have to go against our natural likes, you know.”
“I don’t,” Lance answered.
“I also lose money when you turn down a gender-bender. They pay more,” she said, and her tone hardened.
Lance stared into her eyes and flatly stated, “I’ll take women clients only. If that’s not suitable, then find yourself another stud.” He headed for the door.
“Hold on there,” Boss Lady said sternly. “You can escort whom you choose. I’m not going to lose money by havi
ng to turn down clients, and I’m short on men of your caliber. So natural women it is.” Then she quickly added, “For now.”
“That’s better,” Lance said. He looked at Randy and nodded toward the door. As he walked across the floor he glanced over his shoulder and gave Boss Lady a cold stare. She merely smiled, but it was sarcastic. You’ll soon learn which one of us can out shit the other, he thought.
When they were in the hallway, Lance said, “I’ll take what I prefer every time. If the bitch doesn’t like it, she can kiss my happy ass! Nobody tells me what I can and can’t do.” He rubbed his itching palms against his slacks.
“She comes off hardcore, but she’s fair. You’ll have your pick of clients. But I have to tell you, the wannabes, as you call them, give the best tips. They’ll stuff your pockets with hundred dollar bills and won’t blink an eye. But it’s up to you.”
“That’s right. It’s up to me,” Lance answered, his eyes hard. “How much is your finder’s fee? You sure seemed nervous there for a few minutes.”
“A nice sum,” Randy said, wiping his brow, and continued. “You are going to stay at my house and wait for the call, aren’t you?”
“I said I would,” Lance curtly answered. “As a matter of fact I was thinking about bunking in with you until I make enough money to afford a place of my own. What do you say to that?”
“Sure!” Randy quickly said. “I’ve got plenty of room, and I need to make sure you get your calls—I also make a little bonus for each time you get a callback client. And you’ll get plenty of callbacks, I’m sure of that!”
Lance slapped him on the back. “No wonder you’re being so generous. I’ll be making you money, too. In that case, I don’t think I’ll owe you rent since you’ll be making plenty from me, anyway.”
Randy didn’t answer.
They went out the front door and headed for the car. Free rent, making big money, and building a hefty sum in my savings. “I’d say it’s been a profitable day for both of us, huh?” he said, and slapped Randy on the back so hard he almost knocked him down.
“Yeah. Profitable,” Randy said.
They got back inside the car. Randy started the motor and didn’t say another word until they arrived back at his apartment. He parked the car and looked over at Lance. “Are ya gonna say anything?”
“Jimmy, I mean, Randy, let me tell ya something. Running an escort service is no reason for the high security that Boss Lady has. I’m telling ya, she’s got bigger rings of illegal activity going on.”
Randy smiled. “Well, Lance, I may not be as smart as you, but a dummy like me can figure that out. But I just do my job, collect my money and keep my mouth shut. It would be wise for you to do the same.”
“I’m thinking I wouldn’t mind havin’ a piece of the pies she’s got baking. But that would mean I’d have to see her more often. I already hate her. I’ll stick with the escort service for now. Then we’ll see what happens. She doesn’t scare me in the least. I just don’t want to have to deal with her very often.”
“All you have to do is take the phone calls and show up to get your money. She doesn’t question unless she thinks you’re double-crossing her. Not much to deal with if you keep your nose out of her business. Ya know what I mean?”
“Yeah. My stomach tells me to stay as far away from her as I can. One day a week to collect what she owes me will be all I can stand.”
“I hope you stick with that decision. I really do. You could get yourself in some dangerous situations.”
“Put your mind at ease. I said I didn’t want to deal with her. Come on, it’s getting hot in this car.”
Once inside, Randy heaved a heavy sigh, “I sure wish you’d lay off the hard liquor. That stuff just makes ya do crazy things, but I’m not your big brother like I used to be. We’re partners now, so to speak. I guess I need to get off your case.”
“I’d appreciate that, Jimmy, I mean Randy. We’ll get along fine as long as you tend to your business and let me tend to mine. And I need my space. Don’t forget that.”
“You’ve got it,” Randy said. “I’m going to watch a little TV. You do what ya want.”
“I’m going to my room and unpacking what little I’ve got. I like to read too, so I’ll probably spend my time reading while you watch TV. We’ll do fine, ole buddy. I appreciate what you’ve done for me. I mean that.” He blew Randy a kiss and chuckled.
Randy blew Lance a kiss and laughed too. “Crazy boy. No way I can stay mad at you either.”
At eight o’clock that night, Boss Lady called, and Lance went on his first date.
From that night on, the calls kept coming as fast as he could keep up. The ladies loved him and they preferred him to the other men they had used in the past.
Lance’s women clients were attractive, and most of them were in their forties and early fifties. Some were married and some were not. The women enjoyed a night on the town, and Lance had the pleasure of dining in the finest restaurants, eating exotic foods, and drinking the best wines. The women had nice bodies and they were wild in bed. All of them liked to do cocaine, and they gladly shared with Lance.
To Lance, it seemed that offering a person a line of cocaine was as natural for a Californian as a Southerner offering a guest a glass of iced tea. Lance loved the ‘snow.’ It took him to a high that was indescribable. He was king of the mountain. And the women had bottles of pills they also shared. He loved the feeling the pills gave him, and he soon learned to recognize them and knew what they were called. He carried a little bag of pills with him at all times, and popped several, depending on what mood he wanted to achieve.
Boss Lady paid Lance a handsome salary every Friday. He hated going through the pat-down. The one thing he did like was that Boss Lady paid in cash.
He also received large tips from clients. He stashed his tips and most of the cash from Boss Lady inside a locking briefcase. One never knew when they might have to make a fast trip out of town. Out of state. Maybe out of the country. He was never going to be a poor boy and be obligated to a soul for as long as he lived.
Chapter Sixteen
Four years passed. Lance and Randy still shared an apartment. They seldom saw each other because of their work schedules, and it was a perfect setup.
One morning, Lance stepped out of the shower, walked into his bedroom, sat on the bedside, and ran his hands through his wet hair. He looked up at the picture of the girl in the swing. “Not a bad four years. I’ve made a shit-pot full of money, and had plenty of free cocaine and pills to boot. Shit, it can’t get any better.” He dressed, and headed out the door.
He walked two blocks to the corner café where he ordered his usual Sunday morning stack of pancakes smothered with butter and syrup, and a side order of bacon. It was the only time he allowed himself to have sweets. After breakfast he went for a long jog on the beach. Then it was back home where he lifted barbells with 100 pound weights on each end, did 50 pushups, and fifty belly crunches.
Two more years passed. The years Lance had spent in California had been very profitable indeed. However, he was tired of the whiney-ass, demanding women. He sat on the bedside, his emotions running amuck. He needed another profession. He couldn’t stomach the rich bitches anymore. He knew he was going to snap some night and strangle one. He rubbed his itching palms on the coarse bedspread.
Two weeks later, Lance enrolled at UCLA, majoring in pharmacology. He reasoned he would make decent money in the profession, and roll in big bucks by pilfering barbiturates and amphetamines. “One or two pills from each prescription I fill. Who counts their pills? Street junkies will pay a handsome price for the goodies that I’ll be able to offer,” he mumbled as he walked across campus, headed for his first morning class.
For the next two years, he did his best to keep up with his studies and work part-time for Boss Lady, but his late night partying and his own drug habit hampered his ability to maintain a grade point average above 2.5. He was placed on academic probation. The uppers woke h
im up and gave him a high, then he’d have to take downers in order to get a few hours of sleep. His mind became fuzzy and he couldn’t concentrate. School would have to wait until—until when, he didn’t know.
“I’ve got two years under my belt. Someday it might come in handy,” he said, after he had signed the drop/add slip, then left the campus.
He went back to his apartment, dropped his body on the couch and held his head. He was glad Randy wasn’t there. He could feel a horrible headache coming on, and Randy’s constant chatter might cause him to snap. He cared for Jimmy more than anybody he’d ever known except Mr. Wiggins. He really didn’t want to hurt his big brother.
He’d been in California for eight years and he was restless. “I need new frontiers to conquer,” he said, as he dragged himself off the couch and headed for the shower. “I’m going on my last job, then it’s whichever way the wind blows.” He smiled as he stood under the cool water, letting it beat against his forehead.
After the shower, his tension eased, somewhat. He dressed in casual clothes, happy he didn’t have to put on a monkey suit and go somewhere fancy. He was ready to see a client; a woman who had recently been contacting him without going through the escort service. He had never gone against Boss Lady’s policy and given a client his private number, but he had made an exception with this client. She had taught him the art of autoerotic asphyxiation. He craved more. The thought of getting one over on Boss Lady gave him a thrill. He’d waited long enough to prove he could pull the wool over her eyes.
Lance had told Mrs. Moneybags to pick him up in front of the Corner Café.
Promptly at 10 p.m. She pulled her car over to the curb. Lance hopped into the Mercedes-Benz and she sped away. Lance gave her his charming smile and tried to act interested in her jibber as they drove across town. When they arrived at her house, Mrs. Moneybags dismissed the house staff, while Lance waited in the car, inside the garage.