Stealing Candy (5 page)

The car swerved. Bullet gripped the dashboard and spat curse words. “You want me to drive, man?”

“No, I’m good.” Cautiously, the drunken albino slowed down.

“Aiight, so here’s what we gon’ do…You gon’ take Lollipop and me to a motel that’s close to a bar. After you get the room for us, I’ll make sure Lollipop gives you a free piece of ass.”

“I ain’t got that kind of time.” The albino picked up speed,
slipping and sliding through the damp streets. “Another blow job is all I need.”

Another blow job!
Gianna jerked her head toward the locked door. She gazed through the window, wishing she had the heart to punch out the glass and jump out.

“You can get with her at the motel tomorrow night,” Bullet pacified. “She’ll hook you up with something special. Tell him, Lollipop.” Once again, Bullet turned around and presented a threatening grimace.

“I’ll give you something special,” she repeated, deliberately using as few words as possible. It pained her to move her jawbone. Adding to her misery, there was an awful taste in her mouth. After the albino had finished with her, Bullet had held a sample-sized bottle of Scope to her lips, telling her that she needed to freshen up.

It would take much more than mouthwash to rinse away the acrid film that coated her tongue. Soap and water would not make her feel clean again. Gianna was already in counseling. Over the divorce. She was mature enough to realize that she was going to need years and years of therapy to heal from this ordeal.

Soon the drizzle of rain turned into a downpour. The drunk behind the wheel couldn’t control the car. The ride became jerky and perilous.

“Get yourself together, Whitey!”

“I told you not to call me that.”

“Yo, whatever your name is…I wanna get to the motel in one piece, y’ah mean?” Bullet grumbled.

Gianna didn’t flinch or make a sound. Engrossed in thoughts, her eyes were fixated on street signs. She was keeping track of the route they were taking, making sure she could give detailed information about her location when she got her hands on a cell phone.

As though he’d read her mind, Bullet turned around. “Why you so quiet?”

She shifted her gaze away from the window and gave him a guilty smile.

“What was you looking at?”

“Nothing. I was just daydreaming.”

“It’s nighttime,” Bullet said sneeringly. The albino laughed and briefly lost control of the car again.

“It’s just an expression,” Gianna explained.

“Whatchu looking out the window for? Why you so nosey?” She squirmed. “Curiosity, I guess.”

“Mind ya business. You know what they say about curiosity?” She nodded.

“What they say?”

“Curiosity killed the cat,” she muttered.

“Right. That’s enough sightseeing.” Bullet lifted up slightly and fished a hand inside his pocket. He pulled out the same bandana that he’d used to bind her hands.

Bullet didn’t have to give instructions. Gianna realized what he intended to do. Making it easy for him, she scooted forward, stretching out her neck, and allowing Bullet to blindfold her.

Inside the motel room, Bullet removed the blindfold. Gianna’s eyes had barely adjusted to the light before Bullet said, “Go ’head, man, get yourself a freebie.” He waved a hand toward Gianna.

Bullet clicked on the TV, and then stretched out on top of the bed. The albino signaled Gianna to follow him into the small bathroom. Desperate, she looked over her shoulder.

Bullet frowned. “Go on, bitch. Whatchu staring at me for?”

But she wasn’t looking at him; her eyes were scanning the dreary room, searching for a telephone, plotting on sending out a signal of distress. There was no phone inside the cheap motel room. The TV was the only amenity.

In a hurry, the albino didn’t take long. Less than five minutes later, clamping her head tightly between his pasty white hands, he groaned as he shot his load. Trying not to gag, she rushed over to the toilet, and spit out the milky fluid. If it were Bullet’s cum inside her mouth, she would have been forced to swallow. Bullet didn’t allow her to waste his seed. Grimacing, she flushed the toilet.

Bullet heard the flush. His voice boomed over the blaring TV. “Damn, y’all finished already?” There was irritation in his tone, as though the speedy sex transaction annoyed him.

Zipping his pants, the albino left the bathroom. Gianna remained behind, standing at the sink, rinsing her mouth out with tap water.

Bullet appeared in the doorway.

“Yes?” she asked in a meek voice.

“I gotta go out and drum up some business.” His tone implied that somehow it was her fault that he couldn’t finish watching
The Jamie Foxx Show
. The TV voices grew louder. He craned his neck and smiled at the antics of actors, and then turned back to Gianna, the smile gone from his face.

“Freshen up,” he said gruffly and tossed her the same miniature bottle of mouthwash. That mouthwash, along with a few other items, were Bullet’s only possessions, part of his paltry worldly goods. A meager part of the things he’d brought home from the penitentiary.

Home for Bullet was wherever he could rest his head: abandoned houses, cars, men’s shelters…anywhere. This cheap motel room was the most comfortable quarters yet. He glanced at the TV screen again, appearing reluctant to leave.

“Come on now. You gon’ have to hurry up if you plan to catch a ride with me.” The albino had sobered up. He was standing at the door, impatiently pulling back the chain lock.

Bullet sneered at Gianna. “Whitey’s in a rush,” he said in a low tone. “I ain’t got time to tie up your hands, so I’m gon’ have to use another method to keep yo’ frisky self in check.”

He stared at her, eyes roving, mind hard at work. “Strip outta yo’ clothes.”

She was growing accustomed to her captor’s sexual demands. Thinking Bullet wanted a quickie before he left, Gianna resignedly took off the ripped top and wriggled out of the tight skirt. She no longer possessed one article of underwear. Her bra had been left behind when she’d dressed hurriedly, escaping the boarded-up house while Bullet was taking a shower. The bra was inside the abandoned house, lost beneath the rubble.

“Hand ’em here.” Bullet stuck out his hand.

Confused, she gave him her rumpled clothing.

“Shoes, too.”

She stepped out of the wedge sandals.

“Pick ’em up, bitch!”

She snatched up the sandals and gave them to Bullet.

“Ain’t nothing but swampland around here. Yo’ nekkid ass can try to run off if you want to. But when I catch you—” He shook his head as if the consequences for trying to escape were too gruesome for him to even verbalize.

Bullet pulled out his homemade knife, grabbed her around the neck and brought the shank close to her face. “It might be a good idea to turn you into a one-eyed hooker.”

“I won’t run.”

“Bet not. In case they got your face on fliers and shit…won’t nobody recognize you after I get finished doing surgery on yo’ face. Y’ah mean?”

“I’m going to be right here, waiting for you.”

In her mind, she was envisioning herself running through swampland
and finding her way to a highway. She knew a highway was nearby. She’d heard the familiar sound of expressway traffic a few minutes before Bullet had pushed her inside the motel room.

An hour passed. Gianna had gone to the door, unlocked the chain and peeked out so many times, a sheen of sweat covered her nude body.

Bullet was nowhere in sight. Nor was anyone else. The few cars in the gravel parking lot indicated that there were people somewhere, renting out rooms. There had to be a desk clerk. But how far was the office from her room.

There was no neon sign boasting the name of the hotel. Only darkness. In silent conflict, she wondered if she should take the chance and run out into the dark night, and then trek through the swampland Bullet had mentioned. No, she couldn’t deal with a swamp in the dark.

She’d stand a better chance of escaping if she pounded on some motel doors. A butt-naked, young girl screaming for help would bring the police. Her parents had to be beyond frantic. Surely an Amber Alert was in progress. A rescue team would respond quickly.

She was ready to dart out, but stopped. She stood with the door cracked, nervously licking her chaffed lips, and trying to keep her breathing steady, she pondered the pros and cons of disobeying Bullet.

It occurred to her that Bullet was most likely hiding in the shadows, testing her loyalty. Wanting her to make a run for it so he could use his knife to disfigure her face.

Too scared to run, Gianna closed the door. She started to replace the chain lock, but left it dangling. What was the point? Bullet would get in one way or another. Why give him a reason to poke out her eye?

An hour or so later, she heard footsteps outside the motel room. Panic swept through her. She pictured Bullet waving his knife around, blaming her because he hadn’t been successful in wrangling up more business.

The door opened. With an arrogant swagger, Bullet stepped inside. Three white men came up behind him. They froze in the doorway. Squeezed together, they gawked at Gianna like she was something from another planet.

Bullet waved a hand. “Come on in.”

Looking over their shoulders, the three men inched forward but kept the door cracked open as if they might need to make a hasty escape.

“Close the door. This ain’t for prying eyes. This here shit is on the low, y’ah mean?”

With her eyes, Gianna begged the men to help her.

“She’s just a kid,” one of the men uttered.

Eyes alit with curiosity, the three white men spilled into the motel room. Bullet stalked over; closed the door behind them.

After carefully putting the lock in place, Bullet swiveled his head toward Gianna. “Yeah, she’s young and tender. Just got her cherry popped,” he bragged. “That lil’ pussy of hers is still tight. Which one of y’all wants to try it out first?”

Gianna cringed. Her stomach lurched. She wanted to run to the bathroom and vomit, but that reaction would cost her several pokes from Bullet’s knife. She swallowed down the bile.

The men exchanged uneasy glances. Their discomfort with the situation gave Gianna a ray of hope.

The three men didn’t look like perverts. They appeared to be ordinary people…reasonable adults…parents, educators, businessmen.
She could tell by their troubled expressions that they were appalled by Bullet’s suggestion. They were probably pillars of their communities with kids her age at home.

She released a breath of hope. Any moment now, the three men would band together, overpower Bullet, and conduct a citizen’s arrest.

“Yo, Lollipop, meet my friends.” Bullet faced the trio. “What’s y’all’s names again?”

“Uh…call me Manny,” one of the men said with a tense chuckle.

“Moe,” the second man piped in.

“Jack.” By the time the third man rattled off his fake name, Gianna’s eyes began to well. She blinked back tears as she began to realize that these men had no intention of rescuing her.

 
 CHAPTER 6

“You have any condoms?” Manny asked Bullet.

Bullet scowled. “Nah, y’all shoulda brought your own.”

Moe shifted his feet. “We weren’t expecting…you know…to get involved with a hooker.”

“Man, fuck a rubber. That bitch is clean.” Bullet’s head swiveled toward Gianna; his eyes commanded her to back him up.

“I’m clean,” she muttered, her head nodding robotically under Bullet’s irritated gaze.

“How many johns she been with?” Jack wanted to know.

“None! I’m the only nigga she fucked with. She fresh, man. Like new,” Bullet said, as if he was trying to hawk a used car.

The men stared at each other.

Bullet continued his sales pitch. “That’s why I ain’t got no more condoms. I used ’em all up while I was breaking her in.”

Manny’s, Moe’s, and Jack’s faces perked up, obviously satisfied with Bullet’s lies.

“I’m going first,” Jack said, sidling up to the bed.

Manny pushed forward. “Based on what?”

“Based on the fact that I called it,” Jack replied, checking out Gianna’s nude body. He let out a whistle.

“Listen up! Whichever one of y’all is willing to pay a hunnit-fifty is the muthafucka who gets to go first.”