Jackie Collins, page 24
meet his daughter's shocked stare.
"Lauren!" he said, rolling off Eloise and frantically grabbing for his
pants. "Oh, my God! This is not what you think. Lauren, what are you
doing here?"
She turned around and ran from the room, stumbling down the stairs,
trying not to cry. This was her father? This was upstanding Phil
Roberts-the man she'd looked up to all her life?
He was a phony. He was a nothing. And she'd never ever forgive him.
Primo Angelo lumbered into the liquor store and bought four sixpacks of
beer. Harlan trailed behind him.
When he was finished in the store and the van was loaded he said, "I'm
starvin'. Wanna grab a bite?"
Harlan could hardly believe his luck. "Yes, sir," he said quickly.
"I'se always hungry."
"Where can we find us a good burger?" Primo asked.
Harlan pointed down Main Street. "The drugstore."
Primo set off with Harlan loping behind.
Louise greeted them with a smile, a menu and a crisp "Hi there, folks"
as they sat down at the counter.
Primo nodded. Nice-looking piece of ass. Good tits too. "Coupla
burgers," he said. "Make em plump an' juicy an' fast." He winked
suggestively. "Just like you, honey."
The smile vanished from her face. "Cheeseburger, chiliburger, or
plain?" she asked curtly.
"Make it two cheeseburgers-well done," Primo said, undressing her with
his eyes. He could see little beads of sweat between her breasts and
it began to excite him. He'd had it with Aretha Mae, she was old and
dried up, he needed somebody younger, juicier-somebody like this
hot-looking waitress with the big tits and sassy ass.
Louise stopped by the kitchen, gave the order to Dave and went in the
back room grumbling to herself. Some men had no manners. All they
thought about was sex.
She removed her purse from the shelf and took out her lipstick and
hairbrush. Then she fluffed out her hair, teased her bangs and applied
more lipstick. She always liked to look her best, especially when
dealing with sexist jerks. Just as she was putting everything away she
noticed the letter Nick had left for her to give to Lauren lying on the
bottom shelf.
Can't give it to her if she ain't been in, she thought.
Nick had marked it PRIVATE and URGENT. If Lauren didn't show up soon
maybe she'd hand it to her friend Meg to pass on.
Louise propped the letter up so she wouldn't forget, and returned to
the kitchen.
The school secretary phoned Jane Roberts at one o'clock. "Mrs.
Roberts, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but it seems Lauren is
missing again. She was here this morning and now she appears to have
left."
Jane's lips tightened. "You mean she's not in school?"
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Roberts, but I must warn you that if this behavior
continues . . . Well, I don't have to tell you the consequences.
"Thank you." Jane put down the phone and immediately dialed her
husband's number. Nobody answered.
Why did Lauren have to put her through this? Wasn't it enough that
Phil had been sleeping with his secretary? Wasn't it enough that she'd
been humiliated by the Brownings' rejection?
Jane's perfect life was falling to pieces around her and she couldn't
stand it.
She snatched up her car keys and rushed from the house.
Lauren ran down Main Street until she was away from her father's office
and the whole sordid scene. She didn't stop running until she reached
the bus stop.
Pictures of her father, bare-assed, pumping away on top of Eloise kept
playing before her eyes.
Now it all became clear why her parents were always fighting. Her
father was havin an affair, and her mother probably suspected.
Oh, God! Was this the man who'd told her how to live her life? The
man she'd respected and looked up to?
She wanted to cry, but tears wouldn't come. Poor Mommy, she thought
miserably. Poor me.
There were so many thoughts crowding her head she thought it might
crack wide open.
The bus trundled up and she leapt on. There was no doubt about where
she was going now. She had to see Nick, he was the only person she
could talk to. The only person in the world she could trust.
Two women got on the bus and sat across from her.
"I just spoke to my sister," said the first woman, a straggly blonde.
"She told me they're having a big thunderstorm over in Ripley."
"Yes?" The other woman did not seem particularly interested. She was
several months pregnant and looked exhausted.
"Heard a rumor we might be expecting a twister around these parts,"
said the blonde.
The pregnant woman shook her head. "Not a chance. It's beautiful here
today-we're lucky."
Lauren tuned out. Her life was destroyed and these women were
discussing the weather.
What was she going to do, that was the big question. What was she
going to do?
Primo took a five-dollar bill from his pocket, rolled it into a tight
cone and attempted to poke it down Louise's cleavage.
She slapped his hand away, glaring at him. "What the hell you think
you're doing?"
"Giving you one helluva tip."
"Hey, mister-you can take your tip and stick it up your-" She caught
Harlan watching them. "Ah, forget it."
Primo got up and lumbered to the door. Harlan grabbed a few stray
french fries from the basket on the counter and followed him out to the
van.
"You saw that bitch in there," Primo said sourly. "Women-mark what I
say-they're all whores. You don't want nothin' t'do with any of em.
Remember that." He sprung open a can of beer and took a couple of
hearty swigs, then passed the can to the boy. "Try it," he
commanded.
"Don't wanna," Harlan replied, kicking the asphalt.
"Try it!" Primo repeated. "Be a goddamn man.
Gingerly Harlan took the can and managed a few sips, almost choking.
Primo laughed, grabbing the can back.
He felt like action.
He felt like doing something.
He felt like getting laid.
"It's not your fault, Eloise," Phil Roberts kept on assuring her.
Eloise, dressed and pink-cheeked, sat on the office couch sobbing into
a dainty lace handkerchief. "She'll tell your wife, I know she
will."
"Not if I get to her first," Phil said, attempting to calm her. "I can
explain what happened. Lauren's a good girl-she'll understand."
"What is there to understand?" Eloise raised her voice. "What we had
together was special and now it's . it's dirty."
"It's not dirty," Phil objected.
"Yes, it is," Eloise insisted, continuing to sob. "Everything's
ruined."
He didn't know how to cope with her. "Go home," he urged. "Let me
take care of this. By tomorrow it'll all be forgotten."
Eloise shook her head. "Your wife will destroy my reputation."
Prudently, Phil had not told her that Jane already knew about their
affair. "Go home, Eloise," he repeated firmly. "I have to find
Lauren.
I have to find her before she gets to Jane and opens up her mouth.
By the time the bus reached the stop nearest the trailer site it had
started to rain-huge wet droplets. And yet the sun was still shining
and the air remained muggy.
Lauren had visited Nick's trailer only once, but she was certain she
could find her way from the bus stop. She walked quickly down the
country lane, trying not to think about her father anymore. Nick would
solve all her problems. Nick would make everything all right.
It was a strange day, what with the heat and the rain-there seemed to
be a stillness in the air, everything was so quiet. A van roared past
her. She kept her head down and continued walking.
Eventually she spotted the trailer site up ahead and quickened her
pace. A pack of dogs foraged by the overflowing piles of garbage. How
could Nick live here? How could he put up with such a slum?
She recognized his trailer and hurried toward it. A big man was
getting out of the van parked outside, a small black boy by his side.
The man glanced up. "Looking' for someone?"
"Yes . . . Nick Angelo. Do you know if he's home?"
"Nick's my boy."
"I beg your pardon?"
"My boy, my son. Who're you?"
"Are you Mr. Angelo?"
"Yeah-that's me, all right. I'm the good-lookin' one in the family."
He roared at his own humor, and patted her on the arm.
So this was Nick's father, this big untidy lout with a can of beer
clutched in his right hand and a smarmy gap-toothed smile. Perhaps
this wasn't the right time to be visiting.
"I . . . I don't want to disturb anyone," she said unsurely. "Maybe I
should come back another time."
"Disturb? What's to disturb? Come on in," Primo said, flinging open
the door of the trailer.
Harlan attempted to attract her attention. "If you're lookin' for
Nick-" Primo pushed him roughly aside. "Come in," he insisted.
"Nick'll be here soon. You can wait, I'll enjoy the company."
Reluctantly she entered the cramped trailer and almost gaggedthe stench
of stale beer and sweat was overwhelming.
Harlan tried to follow them, but Primo shoved him out, kicking the door
shut. He gestured expansively. "Take a seat, anywhere'll do.
Want a beer?"
"No . . . no, thank you. Is Nick here?"
"The kid'll find him."
Primo checked her out. She was a pretty girl, a very pretty girl.
More than likely Nick had been slipping her a slice of the old Angelo
magic. Like father, like son. Yeah, the Angelo men-real studs.
Lauren felt extremely uncomfortable as she hovered nervously near the
door wishing Nick would appear.
"Will ya sit down," Primo insisted. "He'll be here soon. So "He
leered at her. "You two are old friends, is that it?"
"We go to school together. That is, we did-until Nick. . . uh .
left."
Primo snapped to attention. "Whaddaya mean, left?"
She hesitated; evidently Nick hadn't told his father about getting
expelled. She corrected herself quickly. "Oh . . . I mean when he
leaves . . . to go to his job, you know?"
"Yeah, yeah-his weekend job down at the gas station." Primo ran his
tongue across his teeth. "Didja try there?"
"They told me he'd quit." She knew as soon as she said it that she
shouldn't have.
He squinted at her. "Whaddaya mean, quit?"
"Uh, for the day. He quit for the day."
"Oh." Primo sprang open another can of beer. "Wanna swig?"
"I really have to be going, Mr. Angelo, my parents are expecting me.
He moved over to her, so close she could smell his foul breath.
"Pretty girl like you, bet there's always someone waitin'."
Now she felt more than uneasy. His huge physical presence was
threatening. Very carefully she began to edge toward the door.
With one fast move he blocked her. "Where ya going'?"
"I . . . I told you, I must get home."
His voice turned to a lewd whisper. "You an' Nick doin' it? You an'
my boy getting' it on?"
Her stomach turned, and she tried to move. He lunged forward, grabbing
her breast.
"Don't touch me! Don't you dare touch me!" she yelled, shrinking away
from him.
Primo chuckled. "Hey-feisty little chickie, huh? If Nick's doin' it
to ya, why can't I?"
Her eyes flashed angrily. "You'd better let me out of here or I'll
scream," she said, trying not to panic.
"Who's gonna hear ya, girlie? Ya think anyone around here cares?"
Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a kitchen knife lying on the
side of the sink. Slowly she backed toward it.
Primo was enjoying himself. "C'mon, chickie, loosen up. Ya fucked the
boy, don'tcha wanna fuck the man?" he said, leering lecherously as he
moved closer.
Her back was up against the sink. Carefully she maneuvered one hand
behind her, groping for the knife. "I said let me out of here," she
repeated in a low angry voice, managing to get a firm grip on the
knife.
"When I'm ready," Primo replied, fiddling with his belt buckle.
"When I'm good an' ready."
Outside the sky suddenly darkened and lightning flashed across the
window, followed by heavy peals of thunder.
She clutched the knife tightly. "You'd better let me go on" He
guffawed. "Or what, princess?"
The lightning flashed again, once more followed by huge rumbles of
thunder. Outside the sky turned even darker, and the light rain
swelled to a heavy downpour.
Primo took no notice, so intent was he on getting what he wanted.
She decided that if this man touched her one more time she would stab
him.
Outside Harlan started hammering on the door. "Lemme in!" he
shouted.
"Lemme in!"
"Get lost!" Primo shouted back, unzipping his fly. "Get the fuck
outta here!"
Harlan continued to yell and hammer on the door. He sounded
desperate.
A strong wind howled eerily outside the trailer and the rain turned
into pelting hailstones.
"C'mere, girlie," Primo said, pulling at her as she tried once again to
dodge past him.
"Don't!" she warned.
He was in no mood to listen to her objections. He grabbed herforcing
his fleshy lips down on hers.
At school she'd learned self-defense and she put it to good usebringing
her knee up hard and sharp, catching him in the groin.
He let out a grunt of pain, but managed to hold on to her-bending her
backward until she could feel his disgusting hardness pressing up
against her, and she knew she had to do something drastic. Gripping
the knife behind her back she readied herself for action.
Primo pulled at her skirt, pushing it up and tearing at her panties.
"C'mon, y'hot little bitch, you're gonna love this," he muttered,
dropping his pants.
She lunged with the knife, blindly striking out as the trailer began to
rock in the wind and there was a frighteningly loud roaring sound.
Tornadthe thought flashed through her mind. Oh, God, it's a tornado!
ane Roberts was driving toward Main Street when the sky suddenly turned
ominously black and from out of nowhere giant hailstones began pounding
the windshield.
She pulled over to the side of the street, petrified, and waited for
the ferocious rain to stop, prayed for it to subside-for she had lived
in the Midwest all her life and knew what this kind of weather could
bring.
Louise peered out the wide front window of the drugstore and yelled to
