“There’s glass in it. We can get someone over to remove it, or I can do it,” she says.
“Do you mind?” I ask.
“It’s going to hurt like hell.”
“There’s plenty of whiskey in the house,” Kip offers.
“Bring out three shot glasses,” Kathrine instructs.
She soaks my hand in peroxide, and grabs a cigarette from my pack. She never smokes, so she is obviously feeling a little stressed. Kip returns with a bottle of Crown Black and pours us all a shot.
He holds his shot up, “Here’s to honor…hitting honor, getting honor, staying honor…and if you can’t come in her… come honor.”
I giggle for the first time in weeks, and Kathrine joins me.
“One more for courage sweet Kathrine,", and he pours another round. “May you...Work like you don't need the money, love like you've never been hurt, dance like no-one is watching, screw like it’s being filmed, and drink like a true Irishman.”
“Here, here!” Kathrine and I say, before tossing back the smooth firewater.
Kip blasts some slow electric blues onto the deck, and Kathrine works on my hand as I continue to shoot whiskey with Kip. Thirty minutes later, she’s picked all the glass out of my hand, placed butterfly bandages on the deeper cuts, and closed the smaller wounds with liquid bandage.
We get rip-roaring drunk, and laugh as Kip does his best B.B. King guitar face impression. Then he breaks out the Muddy Waters guitar face. We break cards out, play Rummy until the sun rises, and then we all collapse into sleep.
***
Henley
“Kill it!” Kip says, and Cash growls. “Yeah, kill that damn squirrel! You make Uncle Kip so proud.”
I roll out of bed to find Kip playing tug-of-war with Cash and his squirrel play toy. Cash drops the toy when he sees me emerge, and gallops towards me. I scoop the little guy up, and he kisses my face. I will miss this when he weighs almost as much as I do. Cash in my arms; I stride into the kitchen where Kathrine sits on the counter holding her head, coffee cup in hand.
“I am dying,” she groans.
“Been a while?”
“We aren’t all wired to party like rock stars,” she whines.
“We’ve just had a great deal of practice, love.”
“I am having breakfast delivered for us, even though it’s three in the afternoon,” she says.
“I love breakfast food.”
“I know, girl, me too. There’s nothing like a ton of bacon to soak up alcohol.”
We eat breakfast when it arrives, and Kathrine discloses she has yet to find a wedding dress for her wedding, which is only eight weeks away. Kip and I both drop our forks on the plate.
“I have a dick, and I know that’s not good, woman!” Kip yells.
“I travel back and forth from east coast to west coast all the time. I work my ass off in Georgia, and half the time I am working remotely here. I’ve been busy, and I am stressed out,” she admits.
“This is a job for Kipley! I know a bitch that’s like Jennifer Lopez in that movie. She plans weddings and shit. She’s the shit. I fucked her once, great lay, she does this thing with her tongue on my nipples that just makes my dick want to explode,” he offers.
“T.M.I., Kip, T.M.I.,” Kathrine advises as she feigns a gag.
“Just saying, if she is as thorough with wedding planning as she is with my amazing body, bitch has to be good,” he says.
“I agree you need a wedding planner. We are finding you a dress today and getting Kip’s friend over here.”
“I need to update the Kipley website, we are painting the town red today, bitches!”
We shower, then dress up in costumes. E! News is already covering the update to the website, so shit might get crazy today. We load Cash up, who is not normally allowed in most of the establishments we are visiting, but Kip advises we’re famous, so they won’t kick out our child. Cash has to be a part of Kipley according to him.
After four hours, we finally find a gown for Kathrine. She declares it is the one as soon as she saw it, and Cash barks in approval. We also found black bridesmaids dresses. Black and silver are the colors she decides on, and she chooses well with the dresses. I can’t wait to wear it. It’s a little black dress that falls halfway down the thigh, with paisley-lace overlay and a center-beaded waistband. The sleeves are small, and the dress is sexy and classy.
A fan at the last shop recognizes us, and wins Broken Access and Abandoned Shadow t-shirts, and a few albums. She is more excited to see me than Kip, so we take pictures, and I sign a few things for her and a friend. Kip updates the website, Kipley-1, World-2.
Kip scheduled his fuck buddy, who goes by the name of Emily, to meet with us at nine. He orders delivery, and drives us home. Emily is waiting on us when we arrive, and she is excited to see the dresses we chose. Kathrine looks a little overwhelmed, so I stick close, and help her out. She decides on a California wedding, and wants a vineyard, outdoors wedding. The vineyards in Southern California are gorgeous, and I am impressed with her taste.
Emily schedules meetings with venues, caterers, florists, and bakeries for the week, and will keep us updated as the appointments are confirmed. Kathrine seems to relax a bit once Emily leaves. We have eight weeks to plan a wedding, but I have no doubt it will come together.
“Let’s celebrate!” Kathrine shrieks.
“Okay, what do you have in mind?”
“Let’s hit a club and shake our asses.”
“Sounds good, I am overdue for some fun,” I say.
Kathrine and I slut it up, and Kip looks sexy as hell, like I said previously, too bad he never shuts the fuck up. Kip is fine as hell, too bad he was friend-zoned decades ago. Rhys arrives to join us just as we leave. Cory and Maurice are both with us tonight. I still love my goons. On the way to the club, Samantha sends a text.
Samantha: I know you are upset with me, but I wanted to inform you, the rock-n-roll hall of fame is inducting Caleb, and requested you to accept the award on his behalf.
Me: Message received. Send me the details and advise them I will gladly accept on his behalf.
Samantha: Okay.
We decide on a new club in the heart of L.A. and arrive to the papz and a long line of waiting guests. As usual, we are ushered into the club immediately, so we head to the bar for drinks, then head to the dance floor, where we dance for hours on end. A couple of hours into the night, we head to the VIP section to rest our feet, and hydrate.
Kathrine and I leave Kip and Rhys at a table while we visit the VIP room. The bathroom is empty when we arrive, but as soon as our stall doors close, a group of women arrive.
“Did you see her dancing out there? What did Jagger ever see in her?” a girl says with an annoying nasal voice.
“I know right! She just dances out there with all those little people. You can take a girl out of the trailer park, but you can’t take the trailer park out of the girl,” girl two says.
Jesus Christ.
“Have you spoke to Jagger lately?” girl three asks.
“He was over at my house two nights ago. He is a great fuck!” girl one says and they all squeal like they’re in high school.
I flush the toilet, and Kathrine follows suit. “Lying ass cunt,” I say as I step out of the stall and forward to the sink to wash my hands.
I peer in the mirror and see Ashley Robins, heiress of some company or another, famous for no reason, except spreading her legs for every celebrity willing to ride her ass. All three of them open their mouths in shock and then Ashley recovers.
“And how would you know if I am lying?” she asks with an eye roll.
I dry my hands, and turn to Kathrine who smiles back at me, “Because he’s been at my house for three weeks, and didn’t leave until last night. I mean the man hasn’t left the property at all in three weeks, so there was no way he was with you two nights ago. Is there anything else you would like for me to clear up for your little
minions while I’m here, sweetheart?”
“I can vouch for the information,” Kathrine says with a large grin on her face.
Ashley squeezes her fists in anger, and shocks me by charging straight at me. She must not get called on her bullshit often. Her hands reach out for me, claws out, as she pushes towards me. I duck as soon as she gets within reach, throw my shoulder forward, grab her ankles, and flip the crazy bitch over me. She lands with a thud, and Kathrine bursts into laughter. As I turn towards my friend, I realize she has her camera phone out, and is videoing.
Ashley pulls herself up, and lunges towards me again, and this time I step to the side just in time, and push her so forcefully her body barrels through a stall door, and her face lands in the toilet, with both hands on the seat. I couldn’t have done that shit again if I tried. She pulls herself up, and as soon as she turns around, Kathrine and I both giggle. The front of her hair is soaking wet, and her mascara is running down her face.
She steps out of the stall, and looks to the right for her doormat friends, but they aren’t there. They left her while she was getting her ass whooped.
“Had enough?” I instigate.
“Fuck you… you… fucking whore!” she says, and charges again.
I land a punch in her gut, she doubles over, and I lean down and put her in a headlock. I lead her to the sink, where I turn the water on and place her face under it. The heiress spits and sputters under the water, fighting to breathe. I am not going to drown her, but I can’t keep letting her charge me all night, so this will tire her out. I let her come up for air every now and again and then dunk her right back under the water. When I think she’s had enough, I pull her to a standing position by the nap of her head, and kick her in the ass with my stilettos which causes her to lose her balance, stumble forward, and then into a wall. She screams out in agony and holds her face. When she turns around, she looks at me in shock, and blood pours from that $10,000 nose her daddy bought her.
“You broke my nose!” she says.
“You done yet?” I ask.
She lets loose the shrillest scream I’ve ever heard, collects herself, and stomps out of the bathroom. I wash my hands again to get the human Petri dish of germs off me as Kathrine doubles over in laughter.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen it done quite like that before,” she manages between giggles.
We exit the bathroom and Kip, Rhys, and my goons are standing outside the door waiting for us.
“What the fuck was that?” Rhys asks.
Kathrine replays the video for them, and they are in hysterics. By the time the video ends, Ashley is approaching with bouncers, and my goons block me. I have goons, fuckers! Take that!
“She started the shit and we have video proof,” Cory says, and holds the phone for the bouncers to see.
They laugh their asses off, and one of them grabs little miss pretentious by her upper arm, and drags her over to our group.
“I don’t care who your father is, you started it and got your ass whooped. Now apologize to Ms. Hendrix,” the bouncer says.
Cory and Maurice part to let her see me, and the cunt spits in my face. I hope she doesn’t have hep, and the fact the skank might pisses me off. I mean, I was just having fun with her before, but now I’m actually a little mad. I take one long step towards her, lean back, and hit the bitch in her already broken nose. Her eyes roll back, and she is out for the count.
Kip leans over her body and delivers his best Smokie voice, “You just got knocked the fuck out!”
The entire VIP room roars in laughter and looking around most of them caught in on video.
“We’ve watched ‘Friday’ entirely too many times,” I say.
Kip begins a loud cheering in the VIP section of my name over and over again, and about that time, the boys in blue stroll in. Fuck me! A couple of them assess the heiress and radio for an ambulance. Two of them stroll over with huge grins on their faces.
“Job well done, Ms. Hendrix, but we are going to have to take you in. Seems Ms. Robins called 911 hysterically crying, advising you attacked her out of nowhere,” police officer number one says.
His nameplate tells me he is Officer Santiago.
Cory steps forward, “Officer, Ms. Robins began the altercation by charging Ms. Hendrix multiple times. A punch wasn’t thrown until the end. The entire incident was captured on video.”
Santiago nods, still grinning, “I understand. Make sure that video is backed up, she will need it, but for now, I have to arrest her for disorderly conduct, assault, and disturbing the peace. If you have video, the charges will be dropped. Call her attorney.”
“Would you like to see the video?” Kip asks, having entirely too much fun at my expense.
Santiago and a few other cops laugh, “We would love to.”
By the end of the video, they are in stitches.
“As much as I enjoyed that, Ms. Hendrix, I still have to take you in. I imagine this will be all over the internet within a matter of minutes, so do you think we can make it to the car without handcuffs?” Officer Santiago asks.
“Hen, you should go out in handcuffs! How fucking awesome is that? It will make for amazing pictures from the vultures outside. Come on, they got kids to feed and shit,” Kip says.
“I agree! Can you put us in handcuffs too?” Rhys asks.
“I have nothing to charge you with,” Santiago answers.
“I can go kick the bitch in the ribs quickly, assault and shit, fo’ sho’,” Rhys says.
“Charges will be dropped against Ms. Hendrix when the video is presented, however, you won’t be so lucky.”
“Good thinking Officer Santiago,” Rhys compliments.
“So, handcuffs?” Santiago asks me.
“You should rough her up a bit when the papz are around,” Kip says.
“Shut the fuck up!” I say. “No one is roughing me up!”
“Until you get to the joint, and then you might be someone’s bitch. I bet her name will be Svetlana, and she smokes three packs of lucky stripes a day,” Kip says.
“Svetlana is a bad bitch,” Rhys says.
“You watch too many Russian mob movies,” I say.
“Fo’ sho’,” Rhys agrees.
Santiago handcuffs me and leads me through the club. The cops and my goons clear the way for me, blocking me from the patrons. Once we exit the building, the papz go ape shit, and I am sure from that amount of flashes, at least one of them got the money shot. Santiago guides me to a car nearby, and places his hand on top of my head for me to duck into it.
The ride is short, booking is quick, and I end up in a small cell by myself. Luckily, I am drunk enough to find sleep.
***
Henley
I wake sometime in the morning to a knock on my cell door. I thought it would be all bars, but I am sitting in a concrete block wall, with one single heavyweight door that holds a small window at the top.
A white man in his forties walks in, “Good morning, Ms. Hendrix. I have good news and bad news.”
“Bad news first,” I request.
“The bad news is you got yourself arrested on a Friday night. The district attorney is cracking down on celebrity’s bullshit, so you will be here until at least Monday morning before bail is a possibility. The judge, along with the rest of the world, has seen the video, and called earlier to advise we should keep you comfortable while you wait.”
“It could be worse I guess. The good news?”
“Your friends Kip and Rhys have nearly started a riot in front of the precinct. I asked them for items to make you comfortable, and your assistant dropped off a carton of cigarettes, drinks, snacks, a hot breakfast, a guitar, and some books.”
“A riot?”
The man chuckles, “Nearly. If I didn’t find so much humor in that video, I would’ve run them off before now. Your friends and hundreds of your fans gathered outside about five this morning chanting for us to free you.
Signs are amongst the crowd such as ‘Free Henley, Team Henley, Fuck the heiress, it was self-defense’, and a few other humorous ones.”
I let out a loud laugh. I don’t doubt a word this man is saying. Kip and Rhys are a handful. I apologize for the gathering outside, and he brings me my items. On top of them is a note from Kip.
My Dearest Henley,
You kick ass! Your fans and I are busting you out of this place, like some Wild Wild West shit. Prepare for D-day fuckers!
Love always,
Kip
I let out another belly laugh and let the detective read it. He thinks it’s hilarious as well.
After I eat my lukewarm breakfast, police officers and detectives trickle in my cell. I sign autographs, but most of them want to thank me for kicking Ashley’s ass. They bring me coffee throughout the day and let me out to watch the news each time a story comes on. The video of me kicking her ass has gone viral. Even the spit in my face, punch to the nose, and Kip’s Smokie impression was filmed, and has received high ratings. Footage of the gathering outside is being filmed and updated as the group increases by the hour. They should’ve never put that shit on the news; it will only bring out more fans. I have to admit, my fans making signs and trying to spring me brings a smile to my face.
I am allowed to call Jessica, who I am still not happy with, but she’s my assistant, and Kip and Rhys are busy exercising their first amendment right, so I need an assistant. I ask her to cater breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the officers and detectives until I get out of here. They’ve treated me really well, and I would like to thank them. The garbage I see most of them eating, doesn’t appear appetizing.
By dinner, I’ve remained outside of my cell more than I have in it. I sit in the break room, where I shoot the shit with the men of the force. I recount stories of old for them and even play a few songs. By nine in the evening, the crowd outside has gotten a little out of control, so I ask Jessica to release a statement to the press thanking my fans for their support, but asking them to exercise their right to assemble without violence, and it seems to do the trick. By Sunday morning, the crowd is camped out with tents and sleeping bags, with guitars passing around the crowd. It looks like a few doobies are being passed around from the news footage. The police force still finds amusement in my friends and fans, so they let it be.
Guitar Face Series Box Set: Books 1-4 Page 38
