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Authors: JJ DeCeglie

Drawing Dead (5 page)

BOOK: Drawing Dead
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I drove around like I was lost for about thirty minutes. Doing formless circles of the busy building shadowed city streets, going nowhere, feeling nothing. Worbich was a god-awful parasite but I had to give it to him, his girl Hannah was a peach, that was a fact. She was the real deal, nineteen years of pure dynamic female glory and she didn’t hesitate trying it on either. Least she didn’t with me. Would have fucked me into next month and back in exchange for her full escape from her father’s clutches. Doesn’t happen to me often but I couldn’t do it. She reminded me too much of Lexy. The wanton helplessness, the celestial beauty, pristine and clean and wholesome in ways that could cut you to the bone. I kissed her some but that was it I swear. Well I may have had my hands up and down her too. In and out of her clothing.

 

Right then I saw a girl in a school uniform that looked like Lexy. Not the uniform, but the hair and shape of the her, walking into sunshine from shadow and it lighting those golden white tresses up like glinting utmost fire. Wheat fields at sunrise. Beach sand at sunset. A star in lit victory the exact moment the eclipse has at last conceded. I almost crashed the goddamn car watching her cross the street. All but took out some old bag standing on the sidewalk. I was taking on water and the ship was sinking fast. Lexy was hemorrhaging in forever and I was suffocating on her spectacular blood. By God I needed some drinks. A whole bathtub full.

 

By God.

 

By God!

 

Bye God.

 
CHAPTER 6
 

So yep; I hated myself and I wanted to die. Luckily for me there were at least three other guys I could think of who wanted the same thing. There were definitely more than that, but the way I saw it fuck the whole lot of them.

 

I drove immediately to the liquor store. And I gotta admit that with some money in my pocket I actually felt better. Well, slightly better. I parked the car street side just west of the city and before walking in and getting the medicine I smoked a half-done cigar awhile. First few puffs tasted like horse shit but it settled into the burn with some effort. I was parked in the shade of a building but even so it was hot and I was sweating some. The cigar didn’t help that much. When I got out to walk in a kid wearing an ‘Unfuck the World’ t-shirt went past me. You believe that, ‘Unfuck the World’, this loser obviously spent most of his time tugging his dick and listening to himself jaw, I thought hey son, how about I unfuck your mother.

 

In the store I got a six-pack of cheap but very good German beer. I also grabbed five white wine clean-skins that were going for four bucks a bottle. Also some vodka. It was all under the principle idea that if you’re gonna do it, do it right. I drove to the park overlooking the city, sweating and swearing. Sneaking mouthfuls of cooling beer when it seemed like nobody was watching. I found some nice dark shade and parked the vehicle. Then got out and sat with my back against it just behind the rear tyre. I started working on those beers. And entered into another obliging dialogue with myself.

 

Jacky, Jacky, Jacky….

 

It’s no use I tell ya. No use. I wasn’t born an asshole, but I’m pretty sure I’m gonna die one.

 

You’ve got a few hundred now, that’s a start right? Like I said hit up some of those jokers who owe you. Must be at least another two grand out there with your name on it, right?

 

I won’t even be able to reach those asses let alone get a cent from’em. Didn’t we cover this already?

 

Yeah, yeah, calm down…You gonna give Hannah some money?

 

Fuck her.

 

You already did that didn’t you?

 

I never fucked her.

 

Define fuck?

 

You know what I’m saying.

 

I don’t, 'cause what you did to her no doubt was, but that’s up to you pal, completely up to you…if you don’t give her some money now though, if you don’t, I think we can both agree you’re fucking her then though, right?

 

Doing everything but isn’t fucking.

 

When you do it like you did it is.

 

Let it go motherfucker…You want a drink?

 

No.

 

How about I smash a bottle over your head then?

 

Just keep drinking’em Jacky…where’d you send her Dad

 

Ten hours north to Whipdick, Western Australia.

 

And where’s she again?

 

A dive hotel smack bang in the city.

 

Nice work Jacky. How much you squeeze him for again?

 

Six.

 

Nice work again.

 

Fuck you. I got her lecherous old man off her didn’t I?

 

Then climbed on yourself.

 

I never fucked her.

 

Went over this didn’t we?

 

Look pal, we hit it off okay, we did, there’s no denying that we did, and she wanted it or I wouldn’t done a thing with her.

 

I’m sure Daddy says the same thing.

 

Oh fuck you… fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.

 

She’s a looker though right?

 

You could say that a thousand times and still not get close to the meaning of it. Like she walked out the blossoming sun itself.

 

Jeez Jacky listen to yourself, what a downright damn dirty asshole you’ve become.

 

I’ll drive over and give her some money ok, ok, you fucking happy!

 

Sure, and maybe after that you could get it over with huh?

 

I’m not gonna fuck her!

 

Not that.

 

What then?

 

The slow bleed you got going on. The drinking, gambling, whoring, the entire hellish carnival ride you got running here, just do like Lexy did pal, and end this whole drawn out circus. It’s easy, bang, just like that. Do everyone a favour.

 

I’ll drink to that. First sensible thing you said all day. Then I’m gonna punch you right in your fucking mouth.

 

The drive over to Hannah’s hotel room took about six hours with the traffic. When I found a spot to leave the car I drained the second to last beer sitting there shaking my head. Then I put the ultimate one in the brown paper bag with the wine and made my way into the hotel. I left the vodka for later. I’d decided to give her four hundred. It was why I was shaking my head. I needed that money like a motherfucker. Maybe more than that. But she was nineteen and had no place to live. What the fuck was I gonna do?

 

The place was a rat hole in front of the main city train station. Homeless lunatics squawking and hookers crying into the gutters on the street. Saw some weasel wearing a ‘The Revolution Will Not Be Televised’ t-shirt, I thought yeah, but when I fuck your sister it will be. You believe these jackassed fuck-knuckles.

 

I’d sprung for it on my credit card and told her to lay as low as she could. I’d gotten her some books and DVDs too and she’d been there maybe a week. The first wad her old man had laid on me I gave mostly to her and she was living on it. I told her to order food in. If she had to get out to do it at night. I had no idea if she’d listened to me. She was a handful, so probably not. Inside and the desk jockey didn’t even look up from his newspaper. The staircase ached like a bone about to break with every step you took. Down the hall to her room and I squashed a cockroach under my heel, thought to myself - end of the line for you buddy.

 

She answered the door in her bra and panties. Sure she asked who it was before opening up, and yeah I’m pretty sure in the thirty seconds in between her asking and the door opening she whipped off the strangling cloth. I looked her up and down and felt all the blood rush from my vital organs. Brain included.

 

Hot isn’t it.

 

She was, and I swear this, she was all things unsullied. All things perfumed and spotless. Oh sweetest, sweetest entry, oh relieving, lightening exit, and all the gooey warm pink yumminess in-between.

 

Put the air-conditioning on then Hannah.

 

Nah, I don’t like it. You bought booze did you?

 

It’s not for you.

 

Like fuck it isn’t.

 

She snatched the bag from me. Placed it on the bed and leant over it for an inspection. Her black silk knickers had bunched into her out of this world ass and all I could do was watch in enchanting agony.

 

You’re such a cheap fuck Jack.

 

What are you talking about?

 

This wine is piss. It’ll taste like acid and fuck you up in two mouthfuls. I’m drinking this beer.

 

Fine with me.

 

She turned and unscrewed the top off the beer and threw it at me. I’d sat back in a comfy chair by then and was concentrating on her lovely dark pubic hair creeping out either side of the v there at the top of her thick, healthy thighs. I’d noticed it doing the same thing at the back of her when she’d leant over to peruse the alcohol.

 

This hotel is a shit heap Jack.

 

I looked around, nodded.

 

Yeah, it is.

 

I wanna get outta here.

 

We’re gonna put you on plane, where was it…Melbourne right?

 

Really?

 

Yeah, I sent your old man on a wild goose chase up to Dogdick, Western Australia; he paid me to do it too.

 

I took out the four hundred. She was smiling and moving and drinking that beer.

 

Come and take this will ya, and bring me one of those bottles while you’re at it.

 

She did just that. Bought her whole self over, hips swaying, eyes smoking, sitting in my lap and whispering in my ear.

 

Let’s book the flight now.

 

Give me the wine Hannah.

 

She had the top off in a flash and took a belt from the bottle. Made her pretty brown eyes water.

 

It’s terrible.

 

Give it here.

 

I buckled in and sucked down two or three throatfuls. Had my hand on her waist by then. I slipped two fingers past her hip and inside the silk of those delightful knickers. She was right, it wasn’t great, but that would pass with a couple more swishes and the burn would set in all cozy and warm. She was working and wedging herself down between my legs with her ass and I pushed her off and told her to get online and book the goddamned flight. I gave her my credit card and she did just that, one-way to Melbourne at some extortionate price, flying that night and with her little friends meeting her right at the airport. She talked a bunch while she was at it, excited and eager, I wasn’t really listening, just drinking, and I couldn’t get a very good look at her 'cause of the back of the damned chair.

 

My cock was so hard I coulda used it as a cricket bat and hit every delivery that over for six.

 

When she was done I’d started and was half way through my second bottle. She’d finished her beer then and handed me back my card and stole the bottle from me. The swig she took stung her again, and she talked about it some more.

 
BOOK: Drawing Dead
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