by Victoria Fox
‘Am I crazy or somethin’?’ Gordon’s voice trembled with conviction. Limbo was torture, made worse by having no one to talk to about it. ‘Doesn’t this mean nothin’ to any of you? Aren’t you freaking about this situation at all?’
‘Ain’t my style,’ responded Slink evenly.
Principal drew his eyes from Shawnella long enough to participate. ‘We gotta keep shit under control. It was way back, man. Sway’s not gonna remember a thing.’
‘He’s not gonna remember his brother dying? Right there in front of him?’
‘Relax.’ Slink pinned him with a stare. ‘I’ve got your back, G; you know that.’ The cigar tip burned. ‘Question is, have you got mine?’
‘You know I do.’
‘Then collect your shit. Because this ain’t the kind of thing that gets us cryin’ like girls to the cops, d’you feel what I’m sayin’?’ A cloud of smoke eclipsed his features. ‘Principal’s right, we stay cool.’
Gordon looked down at his hands. When he spoke, his words were so soft he could barely be sure they were heard. ‘But remember which one of us shot him.’
There was a grave silence. Slink looked at Gordon. Gordon looked at Principal. Principal looked at Slink. Shawnella stared at the water.
‘He’ll find out,’ said Gordon tightly.
What had Slink been doing in the first place, agreeing to front the single with those guys? Inviting Leon Sway back into their lives, the same boy they had deserted years before, the boy who had been weeping in the road and clutching his brother’s dead body…and who said that if Gordon hadn’t bolted from the scene then a life might not have been lost that night? Maybe then he wouldn’t be living with this searing guilt every damn day he woke up.
‘Sure as shit he will if you don’t stop pissin’ confessions all over town.’
Principal smirked. ‘We were kids back then, what’s the big deal? Guy shouldn’t have been there in the first place. It was his own fault, brother.’
‘You’re not my brother.’ Only in their emergence did Gordon realise the words were true. He had never liked Principal: the guy had a bad vibe through and through.
Slink rose from the tub in a cascade of water, like Neptune surfacing from the waves. In lieu of a trident he wielded a bottle of Cristal.
‘Never let me hear you say that again, G, or you’re outta here faster than I take a dump in the mornin’. We’re all family. Break that bond and you’re out.’
It was a sentiment Gordon had heard before. Of course the crew had to stick together, put on a united front, because as soon as one stepped free of the ranks, the scandal of Marlon Sway’s murder would risk being exposed. Sure, the City had a sketchy history, it was a given they hadn’t always played nice, but no one suspected them of homicide—especially not in one of the most publicised cases in Compton history. Marlon had been a promising athlete, a kid with the world at his feet, still a teenager, for Christ’s sake…
‘Are we clear on that?’ Slink’s tone was measured.
Gordon nodded. He had to remember that twelve years back he’d been another man. Put him in that situation again and it would never play out that way. That fateful night had forced him to change his priorities and turn his world around…only now he had, the shame was more debilitating than ever. How long could he keep the secret?
He would keep it for as long as it took. Because Gordon knew that if he ever risked Slink Bullion’s name, he’d be lying in a bloodbath of his own.
32
Kristin had never been with a man like Jax Jackson. Everything about him was novel, from his swagger to his dangerous streak, from his insatiable sexual appetite to his breathtaking physique. She could not take her eyes off his body. It was stupendous. Every inch polished to perfection, the glossy dark skin beneath which a powerful engine lay in wait, steadying to pounce, and the hard, long muscles that made him the biggest turbo diesel on the planet.
They had hooked up every night since Vegas. After vowing she would never get close to a man again, Kristin found herself responding to Jax like a bloom to sunlight.
He was change…and change was what she craved.
‘You wanna go where no girl’s gone before?’
It was Saturday night and they had returned from a gallery opening where Kristin had presented a Fresh Talent Award. The instant they were through the door to his apartment Jax was fumbling to free her from her clothes. He was ravenous, a red-blooded hot-bodied sex weapon, and she loved it.
‘Wherever you want me,’ she breathed.
Deftly he unfastened her halterneck. Beneath she wore no bra and he grasped her tits, running his thumbs across her nipples so she moaned, and plunging his tongue into her mouth. Swiftly he hooked his fingers into the loop of her jeans and tugged them down. His touch was in her and in a rush she was drenched, his practised groove running across that nub so she was tightening and swelling against him until she was ready to come.
‘Not yet,’ he murmured, kissing her neck. ‘First you’re gonna break my record.’
Kristin was thrown to her knees, marvelling as Jax unbuckled his suit pants and stepped out of them. His dick was straining against his underpants, a caged beast.
‘Nine seconds, baby,’ he rasped, exposing himself in all his Olympic glory. ‘An’ I’m not gonna let you come till you nail it. Understand?’
Claiming the stopwatch, holding it aloft, Jax guided her mouth towards his cock. Only when her lips closed around it did he begin to slam and grind, shouting out the count as she fought to contain his hard-on, turned on to the max by the challenge he had set before her and wanting more than anything to please him.
Jax had been her first…She longed to be his.
Feverishly he came. Stunned, Kristin wiped her mouth.
‘How’d I do?’ she asked coyly.
Jax caught his breath, wiping the sweat from his brow. He frowned at the digits.
‘Shit,’ he said after a moment, glancing down at her with something akin to respect (which confused him, because she was female). ‘Ten seconds flat.’
‘Is that good?’ Her eyes widened.
Jax grinned. ‘Close enough.’
He threw her back on the floor and, contrary to his usual style, buried his head where she was desperate to receive him. It was all the answer she needed.
Kristin held tight to her boyfriend as they entered the Flower Girl party. Bunny’s people (i.e. their mother) had advised that she launch a fragrance, and Flower Girl was a sweetly scented bouquet of sugars and spice, perfect for pre-adolescents and conjured entirely by an expensive Hollywood creative team who lived in perpetual fear of Ramona’s next demand.
The terrace they’d hired was resplendent with crystal fountains and candyfloss wheels, pink petals strewn across the walkways and a twine of rose bushes in a canopy overhead, yielding white and yellow buds. Ramona had employed a troupe of eight-year-olds and had dressed them Anne Geddes–style with miniature cauliflower bonnets and dresses puffed up like dandelions.
‘Sheesh,’ commented Jax, het up in his suit. ‘Who’re all the midgets?’
‘We won’t stay long,’ Kristin murmured in response. She was keen to support Bunny and then scram. Even standing this close to Jax was bringing her out in a fever: she just couldn’t keep her hands off him. He made her feel liberated, sexy, like a real woman. Jax had shown her things and given her body pleasure she hadn’t known it was capable of. He was wild and exciting—whether it was grabbing her in a toilet cubicle (last week at Basement, when they’d been partying with Puff City), or turning up unannounced at her apartment and shagging her senseless over the foot of the bed before he’d even uttered a word.
Scotty had been her forever and she had neither wanted nor imagined any other future. All her life she had assumed they would end up together, her happy ever after. But sleeping with Jax took her to new heights—he made her feel truly desired, after all that time with Scotty sensing he’d really prefer to keep his clothes on and play X-Box.
&
nbsp; ‘Damn right.’ Jax’s hand brushed across her ass, making her tingle. Scotty had never done that: a chaste peck had used to keep her going for a week.
‘Darling!’ Ramona sailed over, arms flung wide to embrace her eldest daughter. Clapping eyes on Jax, she played Textbook Mom and Kristin thought what a complete phoney she was. The last time they had spoken—or, rather, yelled—had been a slanging match in the aftermath of Ramona being fired as her manager. Clearly that was, for the time, being forgotten, lest Jax think any less of them. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce me?’
‘Mom, this is Jax,’ Kristin offered reluctantly. ‘Jax, meet Ramona White.’
‘A pleasure,’ crooned Ramona, batting her lashes. Kristin remembered the dalliance with Luke and fought the urge to push her mother into a mountain of cherry blancmange.
‘You got a john round here?’ replied Jax. ‘I need to take a dump.’
Ramona’s mouth fell open. It was a moment before she recovered herself. ‘Right this way,’ she said pleasantly, her lips a pinched pout of dismay, and in that moment Kristin thought Jax was just about the best person she’d ever met.
‘Well,’ said Ramona coolly, when he’d gone, ‘what a charming man.’
‘Isn’t he?’
‘Come on, Kristin, what are you thinking? It’s hardly as if he’s right for the image!’ Swiftly Ramona glanced her up and down. ‘Though with this new look of yours I’m frankly at sea as to what that approach is meant to be.’
‘Why does there have to be an approach? There is no approach, this is just me.’
‘That’s precisely where you’re going wrong. What are all these appearances you’ve cancelled? The shoots you haven’t turned up for? I may not be looking after your interests any more, Kristin, but rest assured I keep well informed on the grapevine.’
‘You “keep informed”? Jeez, Mom, get a life.’
‘You should have stayed with Scott Valentine,’ Ramona snapped. ‘What on earth was going through your mind breaking up with him?’
Kristin’s face scorched.
‘You never deserved him anyway,’ Ramona finished. Satisfied, she folded her arms.
‘You know nothing about our relationship,’ she responded frigidly. ‘Nothing.’
‘I know a mental breakdown when I see one.’
‘Why, because you’ve had so many?’
Jax returned. Kristin leaned into the cologne she had become addicted to and saw her mother’s smile crack with spiteful jealousy.
‘Please excuse me,’ Ramona said tightly, moving on to her other guests.
Bunny was being trumpeted at the front with her sponsors, posing for photographs with an expression tinged with worry. Kristin gave her a wave and a reassuring thumbs-up and Bunny smiled back, frowning a fraction as she clocked Jax at her sister’s side.
‘You wanna see somethin’?’ Jax challenged, a mischievous glint in his eye. Kristin nodded, resolving to put her mother from her mind. She was shot of Ramona now and at last she was becoming her own person. Being with Jax had helped give her that.
Her lover led her through the crowd. Kristin saw how it parted for him—it literally did—and how Jax’s Fastest Man title made him godly, on a higher echelon than everyone else. His world was fascinating, alien, exotic. It turned her on to hear about the hundred per cent focus he needed to race, how it felt being at the centre of the world, in front of an audience of billions, able to outrun anyone. His devotion to the cause was second to none. Regularly he could be found fretting over his rival Leon Sway: each time the titans hit the training ground it seemed the gap was getting narrower.
‘How close was it?’ she’d ask, sensing he had something on his mind.
‘It don’t matter,’ Jax would flare, ‘the fact is I always win. The fact is he always loses. Who gives a rat’s ass about it being close? Not me. It’s first and it’s second, baby.’
‘You know you’re number one.’
‘Fuckin’ damn right I am.’
In confiding in her, Jax let her see that maybe, after all, he wasn’t invincible. Kristin realised that she didn’t care if he was the record holder or not, because the feelings she was developing for him were stronger than that. So far it had been about parties and screwing, but possibly they were reaching the next stage…growing towards a relationship.
And then…
Jax would seize his watch, strap it to his wrist; his ultimate wind-down…
As Kristin weaved her way through the Flower Girl party, cordially greeting acquaintances, she shivered at the thrill of their special game. How she would be positioned beneath him, would widen her eyes as he set the time, the metal glinting…9.57, the one to beat. How Jax liked to pour champagne over his rigid cock and command, ‘This is the one, baby.’ How she would part her lips, desperate to leap from the blocks…
It had only been a few weeks, but there was something special between them. Trust. Wasn’t it time she returned the sentiment?
‘Here.’ Jax pulled her to a stop behind a lofty pyramid of meringues. ‘Private.’ Hastily he attended to his trousers, a wicked smile pulling at his lips.
Kristin resisted. ‘Wait,’ she urged. ‘There’s something I have to tell you.’
‘You’re not pregnant?’ Jax spluttered, blanching.
Shocked, she laughed. ‘Of course not, silly.’ Her smile faded. ‘It’s about what happened between Scotty and me. I never told you, and the thing is I feel that I should…’
Jax reached for her. ‘Forget it. I’m not interested.’
‘Jax, this is serious.’ She kept him at bay. ‘This is something I haven’t told anybody, and now I’m choosing to tell you. It’s driving me insane, I mean seriously, and I can’t say anything to Mom or Bunny or to any of my friends, and so I have to know that you’re going to hear me out.’ A beat. ‘Please.’
Jax tried his best not to grimace. Slumping on to a bench, he plucked a meringue from the display and tossed it into his mouth. ‘Shoot,’ he mumbled through shards of pink sugar.
Kristin sat down next to him. She took a deep breath and told him everything.
The following morning, Bunny woke early. She hadn’t gone to bed until late and wondered what had roused her. A quick check of her cell provided the answer.
A message from Scotty had come in at 07.58:
We need to talk.
Bunny loved it when, for a delicious millisecond, she could actually believe they were going out with each other. That was the sort of text a boyfriend sent, right? She clasped the cell to her heart and gazed up at the ceiling. Her skin still smelled of the Flower Girl scent and it wrapped her up in dreams of romance and rapture. She couldn’t wait to see him.
Springing from her bed, Bunny threw on her best new outfit: a baby-blue halterneck playsuit with daisies on the pockets, and wedge heels she found difficult to walk in but looked nice—and as her mom always said, You have to suffer to be beautiful!
Downstairs, Ramona was preparing breakfast. Bunny had hoped her mother wouldn’t be up yet and stopped in her tracks.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’ Ramona asked archly, pecking at a punnet of blueberries and sipping Echinacea tea. Betsy the cat patrolled the hall like a Rottweiler.
‘Just out.’
‘Out where?’
Bunny shrugged. She was terrible at lying. Her mother’s glare bored into her and she was acutely aware of the wedge heels, flashing like beacons of her illegal intentions.
‘Are you meeting a boyfriend?’ Ramona cried.
‘No.’
Her mother didn’t believe her. Ramona strode over, clipped one of Bunny’s ears between her fingers and yanked her painfully to the breakfast bar. With undue force she released her, sending her thumping on to a stool.
‘If you think for one second that I’m going to let you jeopardise your career for the sake of a boy then you are sorely mistaken,’ Ramona cawed. ‘I will not see you go the way of your sister, do you understand? I’ve invested my life in you, Bun
ny. My life.’
What about my life? Bunny wanted to scream.
‘Eat,’ commanded Ramona, shoving a flaccid egg white under her nose. Softening a fraction, she put in, ‘We’ve got to keep your energy levels up for the competition.’
Bunny could hardly see her miserable breakfast through a haze of tears.
‘I don’t want to,’ she replied.
‘You don’t want to eat or you don’t want the Mini Miss trophy?’
‘I don’t know!’ Bunny howled. ‘Just please don’t make me!’
Ramona slammed her tea down. A wash of it spilled over the sides, trickling sadly down the counter and into Bunny’s lap, so that it looked like she’d wet herself.
‘What is the matter with you girls, hmm? Don’t you see how lucky you are? I make you because when you are made we achieve results! We earn money! We further ourselves! Are you so pathetic, Bunny, that the concept is beyond your grasp?’ She closed her eyes. ‘I should never have backed home schooling, clearly. Look what a dunce I wound up with!’
Bunny swallowed the lump in her throat. It tasted horrible. Sour.
Ramona faced the sink, shuddering as she bent over her drained teacup. Bunny watched her mother’s shoulders, like the bony contours of a prehistoric bird.
‘Eat your breakfast,’ said Ramona calmly, without turning round.
Bunny wiped her eyes. She withdrew her cell from her pocket and scoped it under the bar, tapping out a quick missive:
Can’t now. Will call you later xxx
She picked uninterestedly at her egg. Her phone vibrated.
K & J—WTF? Are they together?
Bunny, you have to come through for me. You’re my only hope.
And just like that, her own hope flared. She loved it when he said her name!
You’re my only hope…
Oh, Scotty was hers. He was hers! They felt the same.
Tucking her cell back into her pocket, Bunny steeled herself against her mother. So what if Ramona wanted to make her life hell? She had Scotty, and Scotty was her secret weapon. Kristin was with Jax now, and at last, at last, nothing stood in their way.