All Fall Down

Basketball Top stopped smiling. ‘Yeah, fuck you. Bitch.’

‘Matter of fact,’ Black Jacket continued, pulling a Glock from the waistband of his pants, ‘maybe I will. Fuck you both, even the ugly—’

Before he could finish the sentence, Heather launched herself at him, surprising him with a punch to the throat. He gasped, his gun clattering to the ground, and she grabbed him and thrust him into his friend, who was scrambling to get his own gun out. Heather used Black Jacket as a shield and aimed a kick at Basketball Top’s hand, connecting with the gun and sending it flying in a low arc until it crashed against the side of the Jeep.

Angelica scooped it up and trained it on the taller man.

Heather aimed another quick punch at the other one, breaking his nose and sending him to the ground. He reached for the Glock and she stamped on his hand, the finger bones crunching beneath her boots. He tried to push himself up and she stamped on his face. Then again. And again, until she was panting with exertion and Black Jacket’s face was a pulp of blood and bone.

‘Who’s ugly now?’ she said, spitting into the red mess.

Basketball Top put up his hands up. ‘Hey,’ he said.

Heather walked up to him, picking up the dead man’s gun and pointing it at the remaining man’s face.

‘Hey, come on …’ he started.

Heather shot him through the forehead.

Angelica laid a hand on Heather’s shoulder. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Though you didn’t need to kill the tall one. He was about to run home to his mom.’

Heather’s breathing changed from sharp and shallow to slow and deep. Her pupils dilated. There was blood on the front of her T-shirt, darker than the sweat on her back.

‘He called you a bitch,’ she said. ‘Nobody is allowed to do that, not ever.’

Angelica regarded her. She was so loyal. Always had been. Like a dog – a faithful, dangerous attack dog. She might have been ugly on the outside – the dead boy had been right about that – but on the inside she was beautiful. And she would be rewarded. They would all be rewarded.

In the distance, she could hear a siren, growing gradually louder.

‘Come on, we’d better go.’

They got back into the SUV. As they drove off, Heather couldn’t resist reversing over Black Jacket’s body. The way the SUV bumped over him made her smile. Angelica smiled too. Another beautiful day in sunny California.

After a little while, she said, ‘Take a left here.’

‘Huh? Where to?’

‘You’ll see.’

She directed Heather until they reached Hollywood. Eventually, they pulled up outside a bar called the Rattlesnake. There were trucks parked out front, a few Harleys and a big neon Coors sign. She would definitely be able to find what she was looking for here.

The last few days, she’d been fighting off a rising feeling inside her, a familiar urge that took hold of her every couple of weeks. Usually, she could ward it off with cold showers or ten minutes beneath the sheets on her own, but sometimes that wasn’t good enough. The craving was for something very specific. The closer they came to the Great Day, the more urgent became the desire; filling her, spreading outwards from her belly to her loins. The killing of the two gun dealers had brought the longing to fever pitch.

She couldn’t hold off any more.

‘Wait here,’ she told Heather. She smiled and leaned closer to her right-hand woman. ‘I’m going to bring you a present.’

Heather frowned. As Angelica sashayed into the bar and half of the men drinking there looked up as if they could smell the heat coming off her, she remembered why she never brought Heather along on these outings. Fuck it. Today Heather was going to join in. Angelica had a role for her to play.

Ten minutes later, Angelica walked out of the bar with

a twenty-year-old construction worker in tow. Patrick was a thing of beauty, with sandy hair, a light tan and a lean, ripped body. Plus he had a boyish smile and, from the bulge in his jeans, a big cock. Angelica swallowed hard and said a little thank you to the Goddess.

Heather looked Patrick up and down and wrinkled her nose. ‘Who’s this?’

Angelica slid onto the back seat and gestured for Patrick to join her. ‘This is Patrick. Be nice.’

‘Hi, Sweet Lips,’ Patrick said.

Heather looked at him with disgust and Angelica laughed and ruffled his hair. Then she leaned over between the seats and kissed Heather on the lips, before jumping back and putting her arm round Patrick. In the rear-view mirror, Heather displayed a look of confusion and excitement.

‘Woo hoo!’ exclaimed Patrick. ‘Time to party.’

Angelica told Heather to drive them to a motel. She sent Heather to check them in to a room and while they waited, she climbed onto Patrick’s lap and took hold of his face, kissing his soft lips, slipping her tongue into his mouth. He tasted of beer and peanuts. She felt her breath quicken as his penis pressed against her through his jeans. Oh yes, it was big.

He tried to grab her, to pull her closer, but she pushed herself off him and opened the door, exiting the SUV just as Heather returned. Angelica stroked Heather’s short hair and leaned forward to whisper in her ear. ‘Bring the guns. And your knife.’

She reached round and playfully patted Heather’s ass.

Heather’s eyes glinted with excitement. Patrick got out of the vehicle, grinning and walking awkwardly, and Angelica gestured for Heather to toss her the keys, leading the young man up to the motel room while her sidekick fetched the holdall from the trunk.

Once they were all inside the dingy room, Angelica shut and locked the door, then pulled the drapes closed. She turned to Patrick, a hand on her hip. Heather stood slightly behind her, the holdall containing the guns at her feet.

‘Take your clothes off,’ Angelica said.

He stripped as eagerly as a virgin in a teen movie, down to his shorts, which bulged comically.

‘Those too.’

He pushed them to the floor and stood naked before them, proud and erect. ‘So, what, are we going to, like, all get it on?’

‘Shut up and lay on the bed,’ Angelica commanded.

His eyes widened but then he smiled again. ‘Sure.’

He lay back. Angelica walked along the side of the bed, looking him up and down. He had the body of a Greek god, a marble statue in a museum. But real, hot flesh. She took his penis in her hand and squeezed it lightly, enjoying the feel of the thick, veiny shaft, running her thumb lightly over its circumcised head. Predictably, he tried to pull her down on to the bed but she put her free hand on his chest, pressing into the smooth flesh with her long fingernails and pushing him back down. She traced her nails down across his six pack until one hand held his cock and the other cradled his balls. She bent over and took the tip of his penis into her mouth, tasting him, running her tongue over his most sensitive spot and making him moan and reach out to touch her hair.

She stood up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Heather was standing by the door, staring. It was a little irritating. Angelica said, ‘Bring me my bag.’

‘The holdall?’

‘No,’ Angelica snapped. ‘My tote bag.’

Heather obeyed, and Angelica snapped it open.

‘Whoah,’ Patrick said from the bed. Angelica had produced two sets of handcuffs.

‘If you won’t stop being a naughty boy and trying to grab me,’ Angelica said, ‘you’ll have to be cuffed. I’m in charge here.’