Read Bad, Bad Things Online

Authors: Lolita Lopez

Bad, Bad Things (9 page)

BOOK: Bad, Bad Things
7.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“Why?” He genuinely wants to know what spurred me to seek such nefarious ends.

“It’s complicated, Sergei. A lot of it had to do with my mom getting hurt.”

Sadness flashes on his face. “Too bad injury ruined career. I like her movies.”

“A lot of people liked her movies.” My eyes prickle with heat and I glance toward the window. Blinking quickly, I try to clear the welling tears. “You know, he never went to jail for it. He just took off to Asia. Bangkok at first, I think. I don’t know. He was killed last year in a mugging in Hong Kong. So that’s that.”

“Ofelia.” He takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. “What happened that night in Rome?”

I play with the embroidered edge of the comforter. Do I really want to get into this with Sergei? My throat gets tight at the very thought of spilling the beans on what was hands down the worst night of my life. I glance at Sergei and realize if there was ever a man who could understand the kind of nightmares I’ve seen, it’s him.

With a long sigh, I launch into the story. “We were at a film festival. It was supposed to be a nice vacation. Even Delia, our housekeeper, came with us that time.

But James called that afternoon ranting and raving because his alimony check bounced.”

“Who is James?”

65

Lolita Lopez

“Mom’s first husband. Mona’s dad. He OD’d a few years ago in Las Vegas.”

He issues a short hum of understanding.

“So anyway, Mom confronted Mike, her second husband and manager, about the money situation and all hell broke loose.” My stomach churns at the horrific memories of that night. Of Delia shielding me as Mike transformed into a madman. Of the sounds of my mother screaming in pain. “They were fighting up on the second floor. It started in their bedroom—we were staying in a townhouse of sorts—and eventually they were up on the second landing.”

“Did he hit your mother before that night?”

“He was never physically abusive. Well—that I saw,” I qualify. “I spent a lot of time on set or at school back then. Mom could have hidden the bruises from me and probably did. She wouldn’t have wanted us to worry.”

“That night, your mother fell, yes?”

“He pushed her down the stairs.” My fingers tighten around his. Panic constricts my chest. “She was already on the floor. He’d been kicking her in the head and then—

wham!—he just kicked her over the edge. She tumbled head over heels all the way down.”

I can still hear the cracking bones, and shudder. “Once he saw what he’d done, he ran out. Delia and I called for police and an ambulance but the damage was done. Mom suffered a massive stroke and bleeding around the brain. All because of
money
.” Disgust fills my voice. “He’d embezzled and pissed away just about every cent she’d ever made.”

I twist so I can see him better. “That’s how I got into blackmail.” Confusion spreads across his face. “We needed money,” I explain. “There were medical bills and taxes and school fees. I was just getting bit parts here and there by that time, nothing substantial.

And then Mona told me she’d seen the principal at Cran-Can buying coke from some guy she partied with at the time.”

“So you blackmailed him.”

66

Bad, Bad Things

I flush from guilt. “Yes. It was wrong. I knew it then and I know it now. It’s just that times were rough and I didn’t think I had any other options…and it was easy.” My face burns with shame. “I’m so embarrassed by the stupid things I did then. And you know what? I really want to be a better person and I thought I was—but look at me.” I shake my head and blink back tears. “I broke into a hotel room, drugged a soccer player, stole a sex tape and blackmailed you with it. Maybe,” my voice breaks, “maybe I really am just a rotten human being.”

“Your circumstances.” Sergei brushes a tear from my face. “Extenuating.”

“Maybe my friends were right. Maybe there was a better choice, something not so ugly or illegal. Why do I always choose the easiest and often nastiest route?”

Sergei’s fingers brush featherlight across my cheek. “I am last person in world to judge you. As I say before, I make many mistakes.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “But we make better choices now. Yes?”

Staring into his earnest eyes, I truly believe I can be a better person. I believe I can make the right choices and walk the straight and narrow. I sniff and bob my chin.

“Yes.”

He grins. “First choice of new era. We take bath or order room service?”

“Hmmm.” I consider my options. “How about room service first and then a bath?”

Smiling, he lands a quick kiss on my lips. “Good choice.”

* * * * *

Hours later, I’m dozing and spooning with Sergei when I hear the faint ring of my cell. It wakes me from much-needed rest. Behind me, Sergei snores softly in his sleep.

Since it’s our first night together, I find it kind of cute. If this were an every night thing, I might have to get him some of those nose strips.

Exhausted from our night of seemingly endless sex, I almost fall back asleep until the ringtone manages to penetrate my groggy state. Recognizing it as Mona’s, I bolt out of bed and rush into the living room. I dig through my purse until I find my phone.

67

Lolita Lopez

“Hello?” My panicked voice echoes in the stillness of the darkened room. I can just make out the outline of silver-domed room service trays on the glass coffee table.

“Mona?”

“Ofelia? Oh, thank Christ! I need help. I need you.” She’s sobbing so hard. “I’m in a lot of trouble.”

And suddenly all of my anger with her dissipates. There will be time for ass chewing later. Right now I need to find her and get her home. She’s not safe out there with her boyfriend.

“I know you’re in trouble. Just tell me where you are so I can help you.” Her phone starts to break up and I can barely hear her. “Mona?”

Her signal strengthens. “I’m at one of Carter’s friend’s houses. I…I don’t know the address.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and pray for patience. It’s clear she’s suffering from withdrawal. The shakiness of her voice and her confusion tell me that. “Do you know what city you’re in? Maybe a subdivision?”

For the next ten minutes, we narrow down her possible location to a subdivision called Falls Creek in a nearby suburb. She recounts her movements over the last week and takes me down a long and meandering path of drugs, sex and crime. I cringe at the thought of the abuse her poor body has suffered. I can only hope she hasn’t contracted some kind of horrible disease.

“Look, Mona, just hold tight until I get there. It’s going to take me close to an hour.

Just get your things together and be ready to leave the second I pull up outside in my taxi. We don’t have time to fuck around. And no, you can’t bring Carter.”

“I don’t want Carter!” she screams maniacally, causing me to jump. “He can go to hell.”

I have a feeling I’m not going to like the story behind her sudden hatred of him.

He’s probably done something despicable that’s going to make me want to strangle his scrawny pill-popping ass.

68

Bad, Bad Things

“Okay. No Carter.” I scribble down the possible address on the hotel stationery.

“You said it’s the house on the cul-de-sac with a green car and a black SUV out front, right?”

“Yeah.”

I make another notation and end the call. “I’ll see you soon. Just stay there, Mona.

And please, for the love of God, be safe!”

Grabbing my purse, I rush into the bedroom and promptly trip over my shoes. All the crap in my bag dumps onto the floor. A quick glimpse at the bed assures me Sergei is still asleep. Trying to be quiet, I pick up the toiletries I need and run into the bathroom. My mind races as I brush my teeth and wash my face. I slip back into the dress I wore last night but skip the panties. I have another pair in my bag—well, on the floor.

I’m brushing my hair and pulling it into a high ponytail when I hear the text message alert on my phone. I finish up and head back into the bedroom to find Sergei, naked as the day he was born, standing next to the bed, clutching my phone. His sleepy eyes blink as he stares at the screen. “What is this?”

“A text message.” I snatch my clean undies from the pile on the floor and step into them. Man, I am going to look so silly prancing around town in a cocktail dress at six in the morning. “What’s it say?”

“That you are double-crossing liar.”

The anger vibrating his voice stuns me and I look up at him in shock. “What?”

“O, meeting place and time okay with me. Bring tape and pics. I have money.” He reads the text to me. Fury blazes in his eyes and I realize it doesn’t matter what I say.

He’s not going to believe me. Despite what we shared last night, Sergei has returned to his default setting—distrust.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.” I snatch back my phone and stuff it in my purse. My throat constricts painfully as the foolish hopes encouraged by our night together shrivel and die. “I think our business is done.”

69

Lolita Lopez

“That is all you have to say?” Sergei’s chest heaves. “You think I let you walk out now? Let you sell copy of my tape?”

I straighten my back and face him head on. “I think I’d like to see you try and stop me.”

Sergei’s jaw clenches. “Do you know who I am?” He gestures to the tattoos on his chest. “You play with fire.”

“Do you know who
I
am?” I counter testily. “I’m not some stupid girl you can push around with empty threats. My best friend owns this hotel. She knows I’m here. If I don’t check in with her soon, you’ll have the cops all over your ass. And then, of course, there’s my friend who just happens to run the most popular gossip site in the world.

Maybe you’d like to make a splash as his hot topic?”

Sergei studies me for a long and uncomfortable moment. “Who
are
you?”

His words wound me, make my eyes burn. Like always, I shove down my emotions and lock them away where they belong. “Didn’t I tell you that you wouldn’t like the real Ofelia?”

There’s an air of sadness about him as he nods. Not able to stand another moment in his judging presence, I turn around and walk over to my shoes. Something catches my eye as I bend down to grab them. I’m drawn to the vase of tiger lilies on the dresser.

My stomach drops.

How do you like that? I’ve been played.

“You sorry son of a bitch!” I snatch the pale yellow ceramic vase and whirl around to face him. Water sloshes around my fingers. Sergei flinches as the vase explodes against the gleaming wood floors, sending ceramic shards and water and flowers everywhere.

And there, right in the center of all that debris, is a tiny wireless video camera. I’d noticed the telescopic lens peeking out through the flower stalks.

70

Bad, Bad Things

His Adam’s apple moves but he says nothing. Shaking my head, I laugh with derision. “You’ve got some huge balls. Standing there, screaming at me about double-crossing when you were recording the whole night.”

He makes no apologies. “It was insurance.”

“So all of that last night—it was just a game.” The silly romantic side of me wants him to tell me I’m wrong, that he meant everything he said to me, but he doesn’t correct my assumption. He doesn’t say a damn word. He just stands there, stock-still and silent, and I hate him for it.

Trembling with rage at my own stupidity and his duplicity, I hurl one shoe and then the other at his head. He bats them away, knocking them to the ground. Tears spill down my face. Self-loathing twists my stomach. Of all the men to care about, it had to be
this
one…

The only one as sneaky and underhanded as me.

“Ofelia.” Sergei finally speaks. He says my name softly, pleadingly, but it doesn’t work. There’s nothing he can say to make this better. We’re beyond salvaging the glimmer of possibility between us.

“Go fuck yourself, Sergei.” My snarl clearly stuns him. I haul my purse higher onto my shoulder and tiptoe around the ceramic bits littering the ground. Once on safe ground, I stomp barefoot out of the suite. He calls after me and follows me as far as the living room, but I just lift my hand overhead and shoot him the finger.

My barefoot state and rumpled cocktail dress garner quite a few looks from the staff and other guests bustling about so early in the morning. I ignore them all, turning up my nose and slipping on my sunglasses to cover my black eye. They can all go to hell for all I care.

I snag a taxi from the pool waiting outside. It’s not until I slide into the backseat that I realize I left the note back in Sergei’s room. There’s no way I’m going back to get it. I give the driver the best directions I can and offer a heavy tip. He’s more than happy to oblige.

71

Lolita Lopez

Alone in the backseat of the cab, I cry silently. I’ve just colossally fucked up everything. There’s no way Sergei will make the second half of the payment now.

There’s no time to scrounge for the rest of the money. I’ll just have to grab Mona, Mom and Delia and stash them somewhere safe. After I meet with Rennie, Marco’s rival in the trash-and-tell business, I’ll do the same thing—find a hideout and lay low until the shit storm blows over and we’re safe again.

Well.
Safer.

I send a quick text to Jolie letting her know I’m okay. I’m tempted to let her send security in to harass Sergei but decide against it. He’s not worth the headache. Or at least that’s what I tell myself.

The taxi pulls into the subdivision where Mona and her junkie boyfriend are hiding out. We drive the streets for a good ten minutes before finally finding the cul-de-sac house with a green car and black SUV out front. The driver agrees to wait and I rush up to the door.

As I stand on the porch, my survival instincts kick in and tell me to bolt. Something isn’t right about this place. It just feels weird.

But I can’t leave. Mona needs me.

I don’t bother knocking or ringing the doorbell. The door proves to be unlocked so I cautiously walk inside. The entryway branches off to a living room on one side and a dining room on the other. It quickly becomes clear to me what purpose the house serves. The dining room table holds mounds of baggies containing cocaine and pot.

BOOK: Bad, Bad Things
7.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Matchmaker by Marita Conlon-McKenna
Beauty by Sheri S. Tepper
Your Room or Mine? by Charlotte Phillips
Tussinland by Monson, Mike
Vanish by Tom Pawlik
Wolf’s Princess by Maddy Barone