"Is that your psychological analysis?"
"Mostly. A little personal experience too. When my mom died, I went on a real bender. There's not much I can remember about those couple of days, just that somehow I wound up behind the Kozee Koffee. That's how Maddy found me when she went to take out the trash the next morning, curled up on the back step like an orphan, which I guess was appropriate."
"And that's how you met?"
"Yeah. She took me inside and gave me about a gallon of coffee to sober up." Grace stops and sighs wistfully. "That was her first day too. She was a lot different back then. She was, well, I guess she was a lot like you."
"Like me?"
"She was sweet and shy. Her hair was still brown in those days too." We share a laugh about this and then Grace continues, "She was so sweet I didn't want to get too close to her. I didn't want to corrupt her. I guess I did anyway, didn't I?"
"I don't think you corrupted her."
"Maybe it wasn't just me. It was this whole neighborhood. The whole city, really. It does that to people. Makes them different."
"But Maddy's still sweet," I say and think of how Maddy had melted into Grace's arms after she came out of the bathroom. "Maybe not as shy."
"Maybe you're right," Grace says, though she doesn't look any happier. When she reaches out to take my hand, I suck in a sharp breath. "You're changing too. I can see it. Pretty soon you'll start dyeing your hair blue and getting holes punched in your nose."
I toss my head. "You think blue is my color?"
"Oh yeah, a nice dark blue to match your eyes." The next thing I know, Grace leans across the table; her lips brush against mine. The basic mechanics of kissing a woman as a woman are still the same as when I was a man. When I close my eyes, there's no difference at all, except I'm the one on the receiving end as Grace's tongue darts into my mouth to make itself at home.
Just as abruptly as it begins, the kiss ends. I'm left with my mouth open and eyes shut for a moment; I don't realize Grace is gone. Then I hear her chair scrape. I open my eyes in time to see her disappear into the bedroom she shares with Maddy-my daughter. What have I done?
***
I cry for a good hour before the phone rings. After the fifth ring I decide Grace won't get it, so I pick up the receiver. "Hello?" I say with a sniffle.
"Stacey?" Maddy asks.
"Oh, hi."
"Are you crying?"
"What? Oh, yeah, a little. I was just thinking about you." About how I've betrayed you, I add to myself. About how Grace has betrayed you.
"I've been thinking about you too. I'm sorry I yelled at you in the alley. I was just lashing out, you know?"
"I know." I sniffle into the receiver again. Maddy's voice has brought on a fresh batch of tears. "How are you holding up?"
"I'm feeling a little better. Mom and I did some talking." Maddy stops and sighs into the receiver. "It's the first time we've really talked since Daddy left. I think things are going to be OK now."
"When are you coming back?"
"I'm not sure. Not 'til after the funeral at least."
"When's that?"
"A couple days. There's a lot to work out yet."
"Oh. I suppose there would be."
"I guess I should talk to Grace now. Where is she?"
"She's taking a nap," I lie. "Hang on a minute and I'll see if I can wake her up."
"Sure." I put the phone on the kitchen counter and then go over to Grace's door. I rap on it hard enough to make the door shake.
"Grace? Maddy's on the phone. She wants to talk to you."
The door opens a crack. All I can see is one of Grace's eyes, red from crying. "I don't think I can right now."
"You have to," I plead. "If you don't, she'll know something's going on."
Grace opens the door all the way and yanks me through the opening before I can say anything. She closes the door and plants herself against it. "What happened at the table was a mistake. I've never cheated on Maddy before. I love her."
"So do I."
"You do?"
"As a friend," I add quickly. "I don't want to hurt her either."
"Good." Grace sighs and then takes my hand. She kneads my hand as she says, "I like you too, Stacey. I think you're really special. You're sweet and smart and tough when you need to be. And you're a great friend, to both of us."
"Thanks."
"But we're just friends. That's all we can be. Understand?"
"I know," I say. "I should go home."
"I think that'd be a good idea." I let Grace pull me into a hug that doesn't go on as long as I'd like it to. "I'll see you tomorrow, all right?"
"Sure. Can I use the phone downstairs? I need to call my aunt."
"Of course you can."
She leaves the bedroom first and takes the phone from off the counter. "Maddy? Oh, good, you're still there. No, I was just napping. You know what a heavy sleeper I am." While Grace laughs uneasily, she waves to me. I nod a goodbye and then head downstairs.
But I don't use the phone to call Jake and Tess. Instead, I call for a cab. While I wait for it, I empty out the cash register. Grace will probably notice the missing cash when she comes down to lock the door, but by then I'll be gone.
It turns out that Jake was right. It was a huge mistake to involve myself in Maddy's life. Just not in the way I anticipated. She'll be a lot better off without me in any form.
Chapter 33
The cab drops me off a block away from the Honey Well Club. I change behind a Thai restaurant's dumpster after I make sure no one is around. Not into the dress Grace picked out for me, but the much shorter one I chose. It'll be far more appropriate for the job.
On the way here I considered whether I should go through with it. Given what happened in Grace's apartment, I'm not really prepared for what I need to do now. Then I reminded myself Bobby Blades was one of the bastards who did this to me, who put me in this horrible situation. If I want to get to Lex and make him pay, I can't shy away now.
I leave Grace's old clothes beneath the dumpster, where I'll either fetch them from later or a rat will use them to make a nest. Then I smooth out the wrinkles from the dress and adjust the bust and skirt to fit as well as they can. I've already got the heels on; they aren't as comfortable as my old sneakers, but I'm getting used to them.
There's a line in front of the club that backs up almost to the Thai restaurant. I see the two fat girls I helped earlier, along with the one from my first day. They're pretty hard to miss. I won't look as bad as them no matter how red my eyes are and how mussed my hair is.
The obvious problem is that I'm not old enough to be allowed in the club. If the bouncer asks for my ID, I'm screwed. As the line shuffles forward, I press myself close to a group of girls and hope to get let in with them.
I don't need to worry, as a much better opportunity presents itself. Ahead of me, one of the fat girls roars, "What are you talking about? We're not getting out of line!"
"You're not on the list," the bouncer says.
"Fuck your list! Come on girls," says the fat girl in the red dress I sold to her. She tries to push her way past the bouncer, but he doesn't allow that. He snatches her by one doughy arm to yank her back. "Let me go, you perv!"
The other two fat girls rush to their leader's aid. They batter at the bouncer with their purses and fists. Reinforcements come from inside the club to wrestle the fat girls away from the front door.
I take advantage of the commotion to slip past the fat girls and bouncers, into the club. It's almost as dark as outside, with only some pink neon lights around the ceiling. The techno music is so loud and full of so much bass that my ears ring. How people can stand places like this, I don't know.
I stagger through a crowd of mostly women and wonder how I'll find Blades in a place so dark and crowded. I manage to push my way through to the bar, behind which is a woman who looks li
ke an older version of Maddy before she dyed her hair black. "Get you something, kid?" the bartender shouts over the noise.
"Just a club soda," I shout back. Now is not the time for alcohol. I need to be clearheaded to make this work. When the bartender gives me a dirty look, I say, "I'm the designated driver!"
After the bartender saunters off to get my drink, I turn around to survey the club. Most of the people on the dance floor are women, with just a few men. From what the fat girls said, it is ladies night. I focus my attention on the men and try to see if any of them are Blades. Most of them are too tall or the wrong shade of brown.
I'm about to give up and slink out of the club when I see him. He's not on the dance floor. Of course not, he's too important for that. He's in the section cordoned off with a velvet rope, probably a VIP section. He's already got a couple of blond floozies with him, girls a hundred times hotter than me.
No, I can't give up now. Not after I came this far. Not after I stole the money out of Grace's cash register. I won't let this bastard slip away now. He'll pay for what he did to me.
The bartender slams my drink down behind me on the counter. Before she can leave I turn and ask, "Where's the bathroom?"
***
In one of the photo albums Debbie got in the divorce, there's a picture of Maddy at eight and Jenny at six, both of them with their faces caked in makeup they'd stolen from Tess. My first attempt to apply makeup goes about as smoothly, with my cheeks bright pink, my eyelids smeared purple, and my teeth stained red with lipstick. It's certainly not the kind of look that will get me into the VIP section.
I should have practiced this instead of making out with my daughter's girlfriend. The girl at the sink next to me snickers and asks, "You learn that from a blind hooker?"
I bolt into the nearest empty stall. I try not to cry; I don't want to add runny mascara to the mess on my face. I sit there for a while to take deep breaths and force myself to relax. This is such a stupid idea, I tell myself. Even if I get to Blades, what will I do? I'm just a dumb little girl who can't do her own makeup, walk in heels, or control her raging hormones. Blades will probably gut me like a fish the second I try anything.
Then Fate or whatever you believe in lays another opportunity at my feet. The bathroom door bangs open. A moment later, I see a blond woman at the mirror through the crack in the stall door. I can't be positive, but she looks like one of the floozies with Blades, at least until she takes off the blond wig and sets it on the counter.
I decide to go in for a closer look. I open the door and then take the sink next to her. She wears a silver dress; it looks like the ones on Bobby Blades's floozies. I run some water to wash some of the crap off my face while she touches up her makeup, the wig between us.
I give her a minute before I ask as casually as possible, "Hey, weren't you in the VIP area with some guy?"
The floozy turns to look at me. Without the wig her hair is as short and dark as Maddy's. Her lip curls in a sneer. "You get lost from the junior high prom?"
"This? It's just a gag. My girlfriends and I are having a bachelorette party. We thought it'd be funny to put on way too much makeup."
"Yeah, it's funny all right," the floozy says. She turns back to her mirror.
"Maybe you could help me fix it?" I suggest.
"Maybe you should go home and ask your mommy," she says.
That's the wrong answer. I reach into my purse and retrieve the Worm's switchblade. I hold it to her throat. "Here I thought we could be friends. Get in the stall."
"What? Are you joking?"
"Do I look like I'm joking?" My makeup might belie this, so I cut her on the right arm. Not enough to do any serious damage, just enough to draw some blood. Before she can scream for help, I put a hand over her mouth. "Get in the fucking stall."
She lets me push her back into the stall. "Strip," I tell her.
"What?"
"Just do it." There's nothing but anger inside me as I watch this floozy strip. Not at all like when I kissed Grace. Maybe I don't love all women, just Grace. I slip out of my dress and toss it to her so she can cover up a little. Her dress is big on me, but not enough to be noticeable.
I don't have anything to use to tie her up, but she's got something even better in her purse: a pair of handcuffs. I force her to put her hands behind her back and then slap the cuffs around her wrists; for the briefest of moments I feel like a cop again. Then I unroll some toilet paper and use a wad of it as a makeshift gag. That should keep her out of my way for a few minutes.
I leave her locked in the stall and then snatch the blond wig. It takes a couple of minutes to wrestle my hair beneath the thing. Even when I do, I still don't look much like the floozy in the stall. I'll just have to hope that the darkness and booze will cloud Blades's mind enough for me to pass as his girl.
Now it's time for some payback.
Chapter 34
The floozy had on silver stilettos, which I didn't bother to take; I know from experience how bad I am with those. Maybe Blades will notice, but he'd be sure to notice me fall on my face. I take a deep breath before I open the bathroom door. Here we go, I tell myself. I can do this.
I make it as far as the bar before the bartender calls out to me. I freeze and wonder if she recognizes me. She might call for one of the bouncers to throw me out, or call the cops to have me arrested. I'm about to run when she says, "Your drinks."
I turn and see a tray with three martini glasses on it. They aren't traditional martinis; they're green instead of clear. "Oh, right," I say. "Silly me."
I take the drink from off the bar, careful not to look the bartender in the eye, so she doesn't recognize my face. The next challenge is to get across the dance floor without someone spilling the drinks. I have to awkwardly sidestep a couple of elbows aimed at my head; the drinks slosh in their glasses, but don't spill. At one point the people are so tightly packed that I can't breathe. I dish out a couple of elbows to clear a little space so I can dart through the opening.
Once on the other side, it's easy enough to get to the VIP area. There's a bouncer there, but I must look enough like the floozy that he lifts the rope to let me by. I let out a sigh of relief; I've passed the first test.
Blades is still at the same table, the other floozy draped over him like a scarf. I have to will myself the last few steps, to sit down beside him. He turns and his eyes narrow at me. I figure the jig is up, but he says, "What took so long?"
I do my best Valley Girl impression as I squeak, "I was just powdering my nose."
"We were going dry here," he says and then chugs one of the drinks. What he's not low on at the moment is cocaine. He's got three fat lines spread out on the table. One for each of us, I suppose. But I'm wrong. All three are for him.
"Aren't you ever going to share with us?" the other girl whines.
"Maybe later. If you're good," he says with a leer.
She pouts for a moment, until Blades grabs her breast. She squeals and then gives him a playful slap. "You're such a bad boy," she says.
It goes against everything I believe in to do what I do next. I stick my hand down his shirt and rub his chest. "What about me?" I say. I use the same whine as the other girl.
"I ain't gonna forget about you, baby," he says. It takes every ounce of my being not to punch him when he squeezes my left breast. He squeezes it a second time and then frowns. "Damn, girl, you get a breast reduction in the can?"
"No, don't be silly," I say. I give him a playful slap. To distract him, I give him a sloppy kiss on the mouth. It's a lot different than the kiss Grace and I shared. My stomach threatens to come up through my throat as I stick my tongue into Blades's mouth. The only thing that keeps me going is the thought I'll soon make this son of a bitch pay for what he did to me.
I'd like to get out of here right away, but of course I can't. For an hour Blades gropes the two of us between lines of coke. W
hen he gets bored of that, he has us grope each other while he watches. The other girl is drunk enough that she feels me up without hesitation. Since I haven't touched a drop of alcohol all night, it's a lot more of a challenge for me. I close my eyes and imagine Grace instead. That only makes me feel worse.
Just about when I'm ready to go crazy from the mixture of rage, embarrassment, and guilt, Blades puts an arm around both of us. "Come on, let's get out of here!" he says.
A bouncer clears a path through the dance floor for us. As we leave, I look back to the bathroom and wonder what happened to the floozy I left in there. She's probably still locked up in the stall. Someone will find her eventually. I hope nothing too bad happens to her, at least nothing worse than what's going to happen to Bobby Blades.
***
A limo waits outside for us, a white stretch one with a fully-stocked bar. The other girl makes full use of that while I pretend to drink a couple of shots. I toss the booze out the window when no one can see.
While Blades knocks back a few as well, he instructs us to fondle each other. Now that we're in the relative privacy of the limo, he tells us to take off our clothes too. I try to remind myself as I take off the stolen silver dress that whatever he makes us do can't be more invasive than what Dr. Palmer's already done.
Before long I'm naked and I rub up against another naked, sweaty girl, all to please someone I despise. There's no excitement or pleasure in it, only revulsion. I would give anything for Jake to show up and put a couple of bullets in Blades. Then we could go home and Tess could tuck me into bed and I could forget this entire nightmare.
But since I didn't tell anyone what I'm doing, no one will save me except myself. I see another lucky break for myself in that my partner's eyes have started to get heavy. After all that booze-and who knows what before I showed up-she's about to pass out. I give her a little help with that as I force a couple more drinks down her throat.
She finally collapses with a sigh and curls up on the floor like a dog. I giggle stupidly and then turn to Blades. "Guess she couldn't handle her liquor, huh?"
"Looks like we have a winner," Blades says. He reaches out to pinch my bare ass. "Come on over here, baby."
"Sure thing. What do you want to play now?"
He has me sit on his lap. While he strokes the blond wig, he says, "You know what I want now, don't you?" If I'm still unclear about this, I see his eyes look down. He wants me to suck his dick. The son of a bitch.