Weekends

by Lindy S Hudis

  "Speaking of eating, are you hungry?” Christina asked, offering her some Doritos.

  "Thank you.” Lilly snatched the bag and gobbled them down, remembering she had not eaten since Diamond bought her those tacos that morning.

  "You can stay here with us if you want,” Nikita told her, and offered her a prickly gray blanket.

  Lilly grabbed it and wrapped herself up.

  "Thank you,” Lilly said.

  "Don't mention it.” Nikita answered. Lilly smiled, it was the first dose of kindness she had gotten in a very long time.

  * * * *

  It was after ten p.m. when they arrived in Hollywood with nothing but the clothes on their backs. Andrew checked them into the seedy Holiday Inn at the corner of Highland Avenue and Franklin. Beverly looked down at the colored lights of Hollywood Boulevard from the window of her hotel room.

  "That poor thing is out there somewhere,” she said, pressing her forehead against the glass. Justin came up behind her and put his arms around her waist.

  "There is nothing we can do now, we'll go look for her in the morning.” he assured her.

  "No, I'm going to go look for her now.” she stated firmly and marched toward the door. Justin grabbed her by the arm.

  "I'm not letting you wander around Hollywood Boulevard at night,” he told her.

  "Justin, we need to find her. She's probably frightened, hungry...” She jerked her arm away.

  "And you'll get yourself killed. No, tomorrow morning we'll start fresh. We'll have my dad with us, and he knows all the tricks. It's too dangerous for us to do it without him. Besides, right now you need to get some rest,” he exclaimed.

  "Will you at least let me go down to that drugstore and get a couple of toothbrushes?” she inquired.

  "Not by yourself,” he said and headed out the door with her. The two of them exited the hotel and went to a drugstore at the corner of Hollywood and Highland. The freaks were out in full force. Beverly was glad that Justin had a black belt.

  A colossal Hispanic man in a black, super hero cape jumped out of an alleyway shouting, “I'm Batman, I'm Batman.” Another coked-out scumbag offered to sell them crack.

  "So, this is the glamour capital of the world? I'll take Philly any day,” Justin said sarcastically.

  "I've never liked Hollywood. A girlfriend of mine used to live here,” Beverly told him.

  "She purposely moved here? Why?” he inquired, stunned. A foul-smelling man in a candy-apple red dress and matching lipstick wanted to know if they would be interested in a threesome. They ignored him and walked on.

  "She wanted to be an actress,” she explained.

  "Oh, I see. What ever happened to her? Is she famous?” he asked.

  "Hardly. She wound up doing porn. I haven't spoken to her in years,” she said.

  They arrived at the drugstore. Beverly went inside, stocking up on a night's supply of toiletries. Justin stood watch outside by the door. As he was lighting up a smoke, a platinum blonde hooker strolled up to him, smiling seductively.

  "Hey, sweetie, you looking for a date?” she purred.

  "No.” Justin answered curtly, turning away.

  "What's your name, sugar?” she asked, brushing her large, rubbery breasts against his back. Justin didn't want to cause a scene, but her fishy scent of cheap perfume and rotten pussy were enough to make him gag. He continued to ignore the skank.

  "Baby, my name is D.J. That stands for ‘Dick Job'. I give the best one in Hollywood.” She tried to tongue his ear and he jerked away. She smirked at him and pulled up her leopard print dress to reveal her lack of underwear and a wild unshaved bush. Justin turned away, revolted. “Are you a faggot? Man, I didn't know you were into guys, dude.” She spat, pulling her dress back down and staring defiantly.

  "Get lost. I'm not interested, okay?” he grumbled, wishing that Beverly would hurry up. “Whatever.” D.J. shrugged, and made her way back down the boulevard.

  Justin shivered with disgust. Who on earth would fuck that? You would have to use a condom and a gas mask.

  Finally, Beverly came out of the store. Justin was quick to take hold of her arm. “Let's get the fuck out of here,” he whispered.

  "You don't have to tell me twice,” Beverly agreed. They hastily walked back to their room at the hotel.

  Once there, Beverly gave him the travel-sized items that would get them through the night. As Justin showered, Beverly stared out the window at the glittering neon lights of Hollywood Boulevard. There was a scared child out there somewhere. They may not find her. She gazed down at the odd assortment of people, all of them lost souls. She thought about how horrible their lives must have been for them to wind up here. A tear rolled down her cheek as she thought about Lilly. Innocent, sweet Lilly—a poor young girl who didn't ask for this and who now was out there helpless in the most sordid toilet in the world. She remembered what Andrew said, about them not having much time to find her before the streets sucked her in. May God help them find her.

  * * * *

  Upon hearing the news about her father, Shauna quickly dissolved into a fit of sobs. John reassured her that he just talked to him and he was fine, but she still was a bit shaken up. She wanted to see her father immediately, but was told that he was sleeping and needed his rest. There was also no sign of Donnie McCoy anywhere. Jason wisely took her back to his room, knowing that she was in no condition to have to deal with her asshole brother, whom nobody had seen in hours. As far as Jason knew, Michael had not heard the news about his father. They were joined by Joe, John, and Angela, who sat opposite them on Justin's bed. Apparently, Joe's cousin Beverly had not shown up for dinner, and her parents were concerned. Jason decided to call his father's room to see if he had heard the news. There was no answer. Shauna was sniveling and Angela got her a Coke from the machine in the hall.

  "Hmm, weird.” Jason muttered.

  "What?” Joe asked.

  "No answer in my father's room, and no sign of my brother,” Jason stated.

  "Where the hell is everybody?” Angela questioned.

  "Hopefully, having a good time. God knows we can all use it,” John said and got up. “You guys gonna stay up for a while?"

  "No answer on his cell phone either.” Jason muttered to himself.

  "I'm gonna hang out with them for a while,” Joe told his father.

  "Are you okay?” John asked his niece.

  "Yeah, thanks, Uncle John.” Shauna got up to hug him.

  He tenderly stroked her hair. “Everything is going to be all right, understand?” She tearfully nodded her head, pressed against her uncle's shoulder.

  Jason dialed his father's room again, shrugged his shoulders, and hung up. “Jesus. What's the deal?” he grumbled.

  "You guys have a nice night.” John kissed Shauna on her forehead and left.

  "I'm sure where ever they are, they are fine.” Joe volunteered.

  "Yeah, tell that to your Aunt Allison.” quipped Angela, who was emotionally depleted by Allison's interrogation about her children's whereabouts, like they were Angela's personal responsibility.

  "Look, it's been a stressful weekend for all of us.” Joe stood up and held out his hand to Angela.

  "You said it,” Jason said, rubbing Shauna's back.

  Joe and Angela got up and hugged Shauna. “Your father's fine. You're in good hands right here with Jason.” Angela smiled. She and Joe waved good night and left the room. Jason and Shauna sat in silence for a brief moment.

  "Shauna, you want to sleep in Justin's bed?” Jason asked. She sat next to him on the bed and smiled slightly. He was gorgeous, wonderful, and sweet. Jason was saving her sanity through all this. He handed her a tissue, and she wiped her face.

  "Hey, your dad is going to be all right,” he assured her, stroking her hair.

  "I know, it's just that my head is all messed up right now.” She said, taking a sip of her Coke.

  "You want to order room service?” he asked her, inching close.

  "No,”
she said, lip quivering.

  "Do you want to go back to your room?” he inquired.

  "No,” she answered, her mouth filling with sweet expectancy. She kissed him softly on the lips. “I want to be with you tonight. I need to get my mind off things."

  "Anything I can do to help?” he asked, kissing her back.

  "Oh, yeah!” She squirmed next to him, nuzzling his neck.

  "What?” she asked softly, opening his mouth.

  "Jason?” She smiled at him, remembering their afternoon on the beach.

  "Yes?” He ran his fingers softly across her cheek.

  "Touch me.” Shauna pulled her shirt over her head, touching her lips to Jason's. He pulled her shirt off, and then his own. He ran his hands over her smooth, soft skin.

  "Yes, Jason. Yes.” She rustled up against him, feeling his hardness against her thigh. She unzipped his pants and pulled them down, her fingers exploring the inside of his boxers. A gentle moan escaped from his lips as he took off the rest of his clothes before lying on top of her. He kissed her decadently, his hard body pressing her delicate one into the mattress. She was unable to get enough of his salty, masculine taste. He reached up and switched off the light. Whatever tensions that plagued Shauna abruptly vanished into the deep dark night.

  * * * *

  They were taking a leisurely, after-dinner stroll along the surf, barefoot, hand-in-hand. Joe didn't want to talk about his father anymore; he didn't want to talk about any of his crazy relatives for that matter.

  The waves crashed at their feet. The moonlight illuminated Joe's golden hair. He kissed her hand and pulled her close. Angela grinned and playfully kicked at the water, splashing him. He charged after her, the ocean sloshing around his legs.

  "Hey, you!” Joe teased, splashing her back, soaking her. Angela ran down the surf, getting the bottoms of her clothes wet. Joe chased her until he caught up to her and grabbed her around the waist. They fell face first into the salty waves. The two of them giggled and spat out the ocean water.

  They sat unmoving, feeling the waves gently pushing against their backs. Joe looked her in the eye and kissed her. “I want to make love to you all night,” he told her firmly.

  "Why?” Angela asked.

  "Because I want to. I always get what I want.” He eyed her seductively.

  "Joe, I don't know about this. I don't want to get too emotionally attached to you,” she protested.

  "Why not?” he asked her, touching her wet hair.

  "Joe, why do you like me? You can get any girl you want? I'm a cynical dyke bitch for Christ's sakes.” She laughed.

  "That's why I like you.” He took her face in his hands and kissed her again. She could barely contain herself and felt her pussy getting as wet as the ocean.

  "Joe, I am very attracted to you. I have always been attracted to men,” she told him breathlessly.

  "I know, if you were really a dyke, we wouldn't have made love this afternoon,” he said softly, running his lips across her cheek.

  "I guess you just have this way with women. All women.” She smiled.

  "I know. I always have.” He grinned.

  "Then how come you're not an asshole? Most guys in your situation are evil.” She smirked.

  "I'm too smart to be evil.” He winked, taking her hand in his and kissing it. They sat in silence for a moment, the ocean and the moonlight enveloping them as they listened to the waves gently lapping against the shore.

  Angela reached up and touched Joe's face with her fingertips. “Joe?"

  "Yes?"

  "I was just kidding you know, about being a dyke bitch. I've just had weird experiences with men, that's all. That's why I decided to date women—much less hassle,” she confessed.

  "Do you hate men?” he asked, his sapphire eyes penetrating.

  "Not after meeting you,” she told him.

  They sat up to their shoulders in the warm water, the waves gently knocking into them. In the distance, the Roxbury Room was in full swing. The music and the laughter of the club-goers were clearly audible in the distance. The twinkling colored lights reflected onto the water. He took her hand in his, interlocking their fingers.

  "Joe, can I be honest with you?” she asked him tentatively.

  "Sure,” he said, kissing her fingers.

  "I've never met a man like you. You are.... “She paused. A lone seagull flew by overhead.

  "Yes?"

  "You are magnificent,” she whispered in his ear. She started to tremble. He put a finger to her lips. He had an incredible, almost magical, effect on her. She had no idea how to handle these new feelings she had.

  Joe wrapped his strong arms around her and hugged her close. “Angela,” he started.

  "Yes, Joe?"

  "I think you are pretty magnificent, too,” he told her. “Come on.” Joe stood up and held out his hand. Angela took it and he pulled her up. He embraced her, kissing her deeply on the lips.

  "Now, let's go make love all night long,” he said emphatically. She smiled and followed his lead. They strolled arm in arm up the sand and into his bungalow, closing the door behind them. Who was she to argue?

  * * * *

  The man lay naked in the bed, curled up next to Shelly's lifeless body. He had raped, beaten, and strangled her until she stopped breathing. Now her glassy, non-seeing eyes were staring up at the ceiling. John Smith was proud of himself; he had graduated from amateur to professional. Now he was Ted Bundy caliber, and nobody fucked with men like him. Men like that got respect. Nobody laughed at men like that.

  When he killed that titty dancer Devin last night, something inside of his twisted soul snapped. Women's necks were so fragile, just put your hands around them and squeeze. After they stop squirming and trying to kick you in the balls, they simply quit moving. That was what happened here tonight. She was some little hotel slut whose husband beat her anyway. He just saved her husband the trouble, whoever the poor asshole was.

  He rolled over on top of her body and stared down at her. “Was it good for you too?” he whispered, and then burst into a bawdy laugh.

  He looked over at the clock, it was almost midnight. The issue at hand was what to do with this chick's body. He toyed with the idea of fucking her again, but decided against it. Sooner or later, somebody would come bounding into the room. He had to get rid of it quickly. Being right next to the ocean, he could just dump the body there.

  He searched the room for something, anything to dispose of the body in. Gingerly he wrapped Shelly up in the bed comforter. Then he retrieved his old valet bag, and stuffed her into it. Her body was not starting to go stiff yet, but he did have to work with haste. She was a petite girl, so she fit perfectly. He zipped the bag up, and folded it in half. After a few minutes of struggle, he managed to connect the ties and extract the handle. Now he could carry it like a suitcase through the lobby and nobody would notice. He lifted it and realized that it was a little heavy, he was going to have to drag it most of the way.

  He opened the door and glanced down the hallway, it was empty. He darted down the hall. There was no way he could carry her down the stairs, he would have to risk it on the elevator. Once in the lobby, he was eased to find very few people around. With every ounce of strength he had, he casually picked up the valet bag and strode confidently toward the glass doors leading to the ocean.

  "May I help you with your bag, sir?"

  The man jumped and turned around to see a congenial, uniformed bellboy holding out his hand, trying to take hold of the bag. “Huh?” He blinked.

  "Your bag, sir, may I take it for you?” the bellboy asked politely.

  "No! No, thank you. I can handle it,” the man stated, holding the bag tightly.

  He waited until the bellboy left to help some other guests who had just arrived and then rapidly snuck out the back door, down the wooden stairs, and onto the beach.

  Some beachcombers were taking a midnight stroll along the water, heading the other way. He looked up at the patio overlooking the
beach and noticed people dancing, drinking, and having a good time. Nobody from the nightclub seemed to notice or care. Carefully he crept along the darkness, dragging the bag behind him until he was out of sight. He carried the bag through the thorny rose bushes, looking up at the nightclub. A fence strung with party lanterns obscured his line of sight. He proceeded down the beach then turned to find himself face-to-face with a wobbly, drunk man who had wondered down from the patio.

  "Just takin’ a leak,” the drunk slobbered at the man, then disappeared into the night.

  He dragged the heavy bag down to the water, making it all the way down to the foamy waves. The man carefully looked down the beach in both directions and was relieved to find himself alone. The only other people around were dancing and drinking the night away back at the hotel bar. He waded slowly in until the water was up to his knees. With a grunt, he threw the bag into the ocean and watched as the current carried it out to sea and was nothing but a tiny speck on the giant black Pacific.

  He silently congratulated himself on his cunningness and smarts. What a weekend this was turning out to be. He taught three bitches a lesson and even wiped out two. Nobody was as clever as he was. All those kids at his high school would be sorry now.

  He stared out onto the moonlit ocean for a few moments, snickering to himself, and then made his way back up the windy beach to the lights of the hotel.

  PART THREE

  SUNDAY

  CHAPTER 13

  Jason didn't sleep a wink. He had the nagging gut feeling that something was not right. He glanced at the clock every half hour until the sun came up. He worried about his father and his brother. Where the hell were they? This was not like Justin to disappear like this. He worried about Stephen Peterson too, having some crazy redneck with a knife come at him. He was concerned about all of them, but most of all he was occupied with Shauna.

  She still slept soundly next to him, curled up in a fetal position. He put his arms around her and clasped her tight. He was becoming infatuated with her. She was so bright, sweet, and innocent. There was something strange going on with her family, especially with her brother. Shauna needed a good man in her life to protect her, and Jason decided that he was the man for the job.