by Casey Lane
Inferno
By Casey Lane
Kindle Edition
Copyright © 2015 Casey Lane
All Rights Reserved. No reproduction without written permission.
I want to give a quick shout out to my misfit group of friends. Without you, none of this would be possible. And a big thank you to my husband for his constant support and encouragement.
Chapter One
Group Message
Jack – sup
Bella – nuttin
Lex – bored
Jack – I’ve decided to stockpile guns and ammunition in preparation of the apocalypse
Bella – I’ll bring booze, ya know, for medicinal purposes. Hmmm. We’ll prob need A LOT. We can be a clumsy bunch when drinking
Makayla– Ignore Jackson, he’s watching a doomsday prophesy show and freaking himself out. I found him curled up on the couch, crying and sucking his thumb
Lex – Jack, you have no idea how to shoot a gun & Bell, you’ve been stock piling booze for yrs
Bella – Are you going to build a bunker too? I think we need a bunker
Bella – Oh, and we’re gonna need food
Jack – I vote M gets eaten first when we run out of food
Makayla – shut it Jack or I will cut you!
Jack – let’s just eat her first and save the provisions for the rest of us
Bella – slow roasted over an open pit. Mmmmm
Jack – We better bring a lot of seasoning to counteract her bitter ass
Lex – OMG you guys are sick! You’re talking cannibalism here ppl. That’s just wrong
Jack – M needs to start laying around so she’s nice and tender for us. Makayla, the other white meat! Hahaha, I crack myself up
Makayla – Jack, the boogie man called and said he’ll be sleeping under ur bed tonight
Jack – that’s just mean
********************
Saturday morning is meant for sleeping in, so would someone please tell me why in God’s name I am up and moving at 7AM?!?! Oh, that’s right; I’m meeting the bane of my existence for breakfast. Ugh. I’m running late, which I never do. Traffic sucks and is definitely not helping to improve my mood. The fog has barely started to lift and has caused everyone around me to turn into ninety year old ladies out for a leisurely drive. I mean seriously, why are all of these people out and about already? All I want to do is merge over so I don’t miss my exit, but the guy in the red shiny Mercedes is too busy on his freaking cell phone to notice me. Maybe if I ram my Ford Focus up his ass he’ll notice me then.
“THAT’S RIGHT BUDDY, GET THE HELL OUT OF MY WAY!” I scream and flip the balding asshat off. “DRIVING A FANCY SPORTS CAR WON’T STOP YOU FROM AGING, SO TAKE YOUR MIDLIFE CRISIS SOMEWHERE ELSE!”
Yeah, I’m not really a morning person. Especially before I’ve had at least a pot of coffee, and today I haven’t even had one sip yet. Seriously, what the hell was I thinking agreeing to this nonsense? I park my car and make my way into the diner, and there they are, sitting in a booth, both looking alert and energetic. Arabella, all tits, ass and legs, flashes me her gorgeous smile. From the looks of her, she’s fresh from the gym, long honey blonde hair pulled back into her trademark ponytail. She’s sex on a stick. I hate her. Next to her sits Makayla. Petite, five foot nothing, poker straight, shoulder length, light brown hair with chunky caramel and blonde highlights. She is full of attitude and currently scowling at me. I hate her too.
“Ok, what’s so freaking important that I had to haul my ass out of bed at this ungodly hour?”
“Seriously, Lex? Bells, tell me she’s joking. You’re joking right? You did not forget that Jack’s birthday is today, did you? WELL DID YOU!”
“Calm down crack head. Maybe you should consider cutting back on your java intake. Yes, I know today is Jack’s birthday. What does that have to do with me being out of my comfortable, warm bed on this glorious morning? And why in the hell isn’t there coffee waiting for me? Ya know, as friends, you two suck.”
“We need to review the plan,” Makayla, completely ignoring me, said as she leaned forward to emphasize the seriousness of this particular discussion.
“We’re taking him to dinner at La Rosa and to see the all-male review that’s performing at Inferno tonight. Jack made his own birthday reservations; what do we have to discuss. As far as I’m concerned, I just have to show up and help pay for it.”
“We have to coordinate our outfits! Are we going classy, skank, trailer trash, prissy, hooker, rock chick, punk…”
“Whoa, slow down sista. First of all, if you walk into La Rosa wearing anything skanky, they’ll give us the boot. And you know if you dress anything less than glam, Jack will give you the boot”
“I need a new outfit, I don’t have anything Jack worthy glam” Bella whined.
“Fine. We’ll go shopping after I get my coffee and you feed me,” I said on a pout.
Breakfast was uneventful. Well, except for Makayla chatting up a bus boy on her way back from the bathroom. Ya see, Makayla is a nondiscriminatory flirt. If there is a male in the area, she’s batting her eyes at him. This morning’s target looks to be a sixteen, maybe seventeen year old, pimply-faced kid who hasn’t made it out of puberty yet. The more attention Makayla pays him, the redder his blushed face gets. I watched Makayla briefly touch the boy’s forearm before she turned and sashayed her way back to our table. The poor kid was so busy watching the swivel of her hips that he ran straight into the wall, sending his load of dishes crashing to the floor.
“Food’s not here yet? I’m starving.” Makayla griped as she slid into the booth.
“You really shouldn’t do that,” I said, tilting my head to indicate the kid now picking up broken glass from the floor.
“What?” she asked full of false innocence.
“You know what. That poor kid is going to get his ass chewed over that little stunt you just pulled. And for God’s sake, have some standards. I mean has he even hit puberty yet? If you get pegged a pedophile, I can’t be friends with you anymore.”
“Oh whatever, that poor kid just got a free lesson on how to talk to the girl sitting in the back corner he keeps sneaking peeks at. I was helping a brother out pro bono. It was my good deed for the day.”
We all turned to slip a quick look at the seat Makayla gestured toward. Sitting in the booth was a mousey young girl totally engrossed in a book. She wore the same uniform as the rest of the employees, and must be waiting for her shift to start.
“She doesn’t even look like she knows he exists. Aw, now I feel bad for him,” I said quietly.
“Well if Makayla’s expert advice doesn’t help him woo his girl, he will always have M to star in his personal fantasy sessions!” Bella hooted.
“Ew” Makayla and I both grimaced.
Luckily, the food arrived and ended what would most definitely have become an inappropriate conversation for this particular venue. Makayla and I had our usual veggie omelet while Bella opted for syrup with a side of french toast. Bella and Makayla were having a heated discussion, listing the pros and cons of manscaping, as I sat there sipping my third cup of coffee and thought about how different we were. The four of us met in college. Makayla and I were dorm roommates our freshman year, and it was not love at first site. My family was a typical middle-income family that could blend in nicely anywhere. By blend in, I mean you wouldn’t know we were there. We could be described as polite and friendly, but my parents firmly believed in the live and let live motto. Being memorable was not something any of us strived for.
Makayla is the youngest of five daughters, none of them more than two years apart, and all of them vying for their parent’s, and everyone else’s, attention. Spending any length of time with that family is like being thrown into a tsun
ami. All of them are loud, opinionated and bossy with personalities larger than the tri-state area. You cannot even begin to imagine the sensory overload I experienced that first semester.
Bella and Jack grew up two doors down from each other, and I have been told they were thick as thieves growing up. Our sophomore year, we rented apartments next door to each other. Makayla and the dynamic duo became bosom buddies when she beat the crap out of some frat guy for harassing Jack at a party. The three of them were always scheming and dragging me along on some whacked out adventure that usually ended in us hiding from an authority figure. I tried to be the voice of reason in the group, but that never worked so I quickly learned to adapt. After lying our asses off concerning an unfortunate incident involving two statues, a pony from the kids festival, some spray cheese and a broken security camera, we have been best friends ever since. I still cannot figure out how we avoided spending the night in the pokey. We, however, were not lucky enough to get our deposits back on either apartment. Apparently creating a doorway between the units was frowned upon by management. Who knew.
“Hello, Earth to Alexis,” Bella said while waving a hand in front of my face.
“Sorry, zoned out there for a bit.”
“You ready, or do you need more of coffee?” she smirked.
I threw some money on the table and mumbled, “I could totally punch you in your perky little face right now.”
I slid my powder blue Focus in a prime parking spot in the mostly empty lot of the mall, and met my friends inside. I hate shopping. I know, I know, as a member of the female population that equals blasphemy. I can’t help it. I am a no frills type of girl most of the time, so I guess it’s a good thing that my best friends are fashionistas, even Jack. That boy can sniff out a deal better than the canine unit can find drugs knee deep in the middle of a pot farm. Yeah, he is that good.
The girls drag me from store to store and I know the routine. I don’t even bother looking or giving my opinion anymore. I just head straight for the dressing area and wait for the two to descend with the mountains of dresses I will be forced to try. Thanks to the three of them, my closet is full of fabulous clothing that I would never have picked out left to my own devices.
“Let us see Lex,” Bella shouted over the door.
This particular monstrosity was a bodice made of white tulle with a matching cap sleeve jacket that fell just below my bust line. The dress’s skirt was made of white feathers. Yes, I said feathers, as in I look like a chicken.
I stepped out to give my private fashion show and said, “Which one of you asshats thought dressing me as Colonel Sander’s bride was a good idea?”
“She does kind of look like she’s about to lay an egg,” Bella giggled.
“Yeah, this isn’t working for me at all,” Makayla stated.
My two personal shoppers stood there eyeing me up and down as if I was a contender for the show Wardrobe Disasters, when Bella snapped her fingers.
Addressing Makayla, Bella said, “I still have that purple dress I showed you.”
Makayla scanned my body and replied, “That’ll work. I have a pair of shoes that will look great with it.”
Apparently, the decision was made because I was informed that I could change back into my normal attire. A mani, pedi, and four cups of coffee later, we parted ways, agreeing to meet at five-thirty to finish prepping for the night.
Chapter Two
I am standing outside of the club, waiting our turn to get through the door, and wondering how in the hell I was talked into this outfit. Oh that’s right, my sleep deprived brain let my friends (and I use that term loosely) use their used car salesman, fast-talking, bullshit abilities against me. Really, it’s as if they have some kind of superpower that when they join forces, you can be talked into anything. Hey let’s join a roller derby team, its great exercise. I ended up with a broken arm ten minutes into the first practice. Oooo, lets sign up for speed dating. It will be sooo much fun! I was followed around for the entire hour by a guy who spoke like Yoda; date me you will. Let’s dress up like rotting monsters and scare the trick-or-treaters! Ok, I will admit, that one was fun.
I was getting ready at MJ’s (Makayla and Jack’s) apartment. Cocktails were flowing freely. A little pre-birthday bash celebration was underway. Bella, hair slicked back into a smooth twist, wearing gold dangly earrings, gold ankle tie stiletto sandals, and a black one shoulder, split drape cocktail dress with metallic gold trim that made her toffee brown eyes look like they were glowing, waltzed in carrying a garment bag.
“Girl, you look fantastic! Those shoes are to die for! Your stems are a mile high in those babies. Now give the birthday boy some sugar,” Jack dramatically declared before he gave air kisses to both of Bella’s cheeks.
“Are you kidding me? What, you couldn’t find shoes that did not make you eight thousand feet tall? I’ll be lucky to come up to your waist!” Makayla wailed as she put the finishing touches on my hair.
“Maybe you should head back to the Shire with the rest of the wee folk,” Bella snarked.
“Bite me tinsel twat” Makayla yelled as she stomped off towards her bedroom.
Bella thrust the garment bag at me and ordered me to ‘put this on’. If I had not been trying to break through the fog of hairspray surrounding me, I would have realized immediately that this did not bode well.
Makayla walked in, and we stood staring, side by side, in the mirror. Makayla was wearing this hip little black and white halter dress. The top was blouson with a diagonal stripe/floral motif and rhinestone accents, a black studded leather belt fit snug at the drop waist along her upper thigh, and the bottom was a band of horizontal stripes. Paired with black leather stilettos with matching studs on the heels, it was dominatrix meets girl next door and she totally pulled it off.
“Damn, you look hot Lex”
“I don’t think I can wear this. I’m afraid it’s going to release the girls.”
“You’re wearing that dress. It’s perfect. Besides, it’s about time your girls get to have a little fun. They have been on lock down for months. Don’t punish them anymore. If they don’t get a little airtime, they may try to enlist gravity’s help to tunnel their way out thus causing droopage. Do you want droopage?” I turned to see Bella standing inside the door, hands to hips.
Jack, his tall, gangly thin body leaning against the doorframe, was wearing a tailor cut deep blue suit with matching shirt and a silver tie. The tie gave just the right splash of color. His words, not mine.
“What do you think Jack? And be honest. I look hoochie don’t I?”
“Sugar britches, you look sexy as hell. If I wasn’t gay, I’d be all over you right now.”
I examined myself again. Makayla had done my long dark hair in soft waves. The dramatic make-up and deep purple of the dress surprisingly made my green eyes stand out. It was just the cut of the dress that I wasn’t sold on. It was strapless, with a built in bra that offered sufficient support to push the girls to new heights while still being cut low enough to show off the top swell of my breasts. The hem of the dress reached exactly three inches below my ass cheeks, and when I moved, the satin slid across my skin like water. This dress scared the shit out of me.
Jack handed me a pair of silver peep toe stilettos, “put these on darling, you look divine.”
And that brings us to now, where I am standing, freezing my ass off, while Bella and Makayla flirt with the doorman. Did I mention that we called ahead for reserve tickets so there would not be any waiting in line or freezing of the ass? Aaaa yeah, we did. We could walk straight inside to our warm waiting seats, but apparently, those two idiots do not have the ability to quit batting their eyes long enough to MOVE FORWARD!
“I’ll have a margarita; blondie here will have a Cosmo, fancy pants wants a Tom Collins, and get this one a Between the Sheets, because that’s the only way it’ll happen,” Makayla ordered, mumbling the last part to no one in particular. We were sitting front and center in the second story cl
ubroom. There was a small stage were bands usually set up for gigs and private parties, but tonight it is the focal point of one hundred and fifty bachelorette party goers and middle aged, sex starved soccer moms. The smell of man sweat and alcohol in the room could rival even the foulest high school kegger, but these desperado’s do not seem to mind. Not even a little bit. Admittedly, this is my first time to see male strippers. I have no other point of reference, but I am just not that impressed. These guys have no rhythm, but from the amount of dollar bills sticking out from their g-strings, this crowd does not seem to mind. My three best friends are whooping it up, catcalling, and motor boating the entertainment. Each new act brings shrieks from the females in the audience, and I’m looking around the crowded room in amusement at all of the shenanigans taking place. Gross, did that lady really use her teeth on his thong? That is just not sanitary. I really should have been paying more attention.
My seat is roughly yanked back, away from the table, and I find myself being straddled by a stout, spray tanned, and steroid induced, muscle head. I am shooting my laser beams of hate at Makayla, furious that she is not disintegrating on the spot, when my hands are yanked and held to this dude’s waist. I whip my head around, and come face to face with a yellow banana hammock inching closer with each gyration. I can see movement out of the corner of my eye, and I am vaguely aware of the cheering women egging him on as they gather around us, my asshole friends included. I hold my arms out straight and stiff in an attempt to ward off the oncoming assault, but my attacker is not swayed. He begins grinding up and down my lap, scream singing the words to Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar on Me and whipping the cougars around me into a frenzy. I’m trapped with nowhere to go. Now, hindsight is 20/20, and looking back at the events that followed, I probably should have just found my happy place and waited it out. However, I panicked, and I don’t mean just a little bit. It was a full on Houston we have a problem meltdown. As Mr. Happy was bobbin-n-weaving his way towards me, I tried pulling away. Unfortunately, this caused him to fast track straight into my face, poking me in the eye. I WAS POKED IN THE EYE WITH A PECKER PEOPLE! Oh, it gets worse. Much, much worse. Gorilla boy loses his balance falling forward, tipping the chair backwards. Now I am lying on my back, legs straight up in the air spread eagle, skirt up around my waist, with muscle head in a precarious location reminiscent of a kinky sex position. At first, I thought I must have hit my head hard due to all of the spots I was seeing, but I quickly realized that it was just the flashes from camera phones, which would undoubtedly be uploading to Facebook and YouTube shortly. The throbbing dance music stops abruptly and is quickly replaced with Marvin Gaye’s Let’s Get it On. Someone always has to be a fucking comedian.
