Fifteen Minutes

CHAPTER THREE – CONSEQUENCES

The gutter press

Sammy Ferris pulled the brim of his hat further down across his narrow eyes as he stood nonchalantly opposite the block of flats. This was where he loved to be, in the thick of the action. Not that there actually was any action as yet. But he'd be ready when it came his way.

He likened himself to one of the newspaper hacks from yesteryear. Or rather, his approach was styled on one of the private eye's he'd seen at the movies. Sam Spade. Bogart always was his favourite. How many times had the overweight tabloid writer seen The Maltese Falcon?

That was why he wore a trench coat, exactly as his hero had. It matched his wide brimmed hat. He even smoked like Sam Spade. That was one of the reasons he enjoyed becoming personally involved in his work. In his world, there weren't newspaper stories to be written by Sammy Ferris. They were cases to be cracked by Sam Spade.

Robbie Macpherson was one of a few police officers he paid for information and the old Sergeant had certainly come up trumps this time. It appeared that Frankie Dennis, aka Wilson Mitchell from Old Oak Street, had been caught on the job in the back of his car. The stupid sod was less than ten minutes from his home and it appeared he couldn't wait to get his rocks off.

That didn't surprise Sammy Ferris, just as it wouldn't have fazed Sam Spade.

These cocky kids who shot to stardom from nowhere thought they could get away with just about anything. And in this case, had it not been for Sergeant Robbie Macpherson, he might have done just that. It seemed that no charges were being made against the young actor because of the connections his smooth-assed lawyer had with those in high places.

Sammy pulled the trench coat more tightly around him and snorted. It pissed him off that the so called big-shots thought they could get away with it. They couldn't. Sam Spade would never have allowed that and neither was he. It wasn't the only thing that pissed him off, of course.

The broadsheets looked down their noses at the likes of Sammy. The gutter press was how the snooty journalists referred to tabloid reporters. Brought them all a bad name, they sneered. Well, how many of the high-and-mighty tabloid hacks broke stories like this? Stories that were in the public interest and which uncovered truths that the rich and famous tried to hide?

Their superior attitude made him sick.

So did people like Frankie Dennis. Thought they were celebrities, did they? That such a status brought them some kind of privileges? The official police line would be, as usual, that there was insufficient evidence to charge the star. That way, they could release him and protect their precious backs, too. Well, tell that to the girl involved. She was a slag, of course, they always were. As much as it went against the grain for Sammy to give her any sort of notoriety, it was a necessary evil if he was to expose people like the cocky black actor.

And sell a few million extra copies of his paper in the process...

***

Madison fidgeted in her chair, sipping at her hot drink. That was typical Peaches—making black coffee was her initial reaction to any mishap. Except this wasn't a mishap. The events of the previous night had replayed themselves over and over in her mind as she'd told her friend everything that had happened. The explanation had brought even more tears.

In the confines of her own flat, she'd initially felt safer, more secure. But as she'd recounted the story, all her insecurities resurfaced. It wasn't what had happened that was so much on her mind—though if she closed her eyes she could still see Frankie's face spitting venom at her in the police station—it was the lies and the ramifications.

How could someone married behave in such a way? And according to the magazines that Peaches had produced, he had kids, too. He was described as a 'family man'. That was a laugh! A family man who fucked around and introduced his conquests to drugs! The bastard...

"Hey," Peaches' positive voice interrupted.

Madison looked across at her friend next to her on the couch. She'd been so lost in her thoughts that her mind had drifted off again. Peaches' brow was knotted with concern and her blue eyes were sending wave after wave of sympathy towards her. Tears formed again. The world was horrible. She just had no idea how to deal with all this.

"Tell me again about your night," she said, trying to focus on anything except her own reality.

Peaches' face twisted. "My night doesn't matter..."

Madison grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly. The way things were panning out, it felt like the warm contact was about the only support she was likely to get. "You spent the night with Leon?"

The blonde shook her head, as if what she'd experienced was superfluous. "Really, Maddy..."

"Please!" the distraught girl pleaded. "Give me something to take my mind off what's happened, if only for a few seconds. You went back to Leon's? I tried to call you..."

The guilt washed over the blonde. "I know I know, and I'm so sorry. Leon said that Frankie had phoned to tell him you were safely home and—"

"That doesn't matter," Madison sighed. What could Peaches have done, anyway, other than provide some sympathy? "You fucked him how many times?"

Peaches reluctantly smiled. "God knows, Maddy. All I know is that he took me in just about every position imaginable. And a couple that even I'd never thought of..."

The brunette pulled her black hair back behind her head into a perky ponytail as she gave a soft chuckle. "I didn't think there were any positions you were unfamiliar with," she joked.

Peaches released a giggle. "Yeah, me too. I can't wait to..." She trailed off. Telling Madison she couldn't wait to try them out with Ethan wasn't the best idea in the circumstances. She checked her friend's face for a reaction but she hadn't seemed to notice. The look in her eyes was distant again. "You okay?" she asked.

Madison nodded forlornly. Her own situation just wouldn't leave her mind. The warm shower she'd taken immediately on returning to the flat should have refreshed her, but all it had done was wash off the grim reality of her overnight stay in that horrible cell. As well as removing all traces of that bastard, Frankie. She'd already balled up her outfit and deposited each garment in her outside bin.

To hell with the cost, they were clothes she never, ever wanted to see again.

"And after you'd finished with Leon," she said, trying to return to their conversation again—anything to take her mind off her own horror. "You fucked half the cast of Old Oak Street..."

Both girls laughed. It seemed to help.

"Not all them," Peaches joked, stroking her friend's soft cheek. "Only the father and daughter. I do the rest of the main characters next weekend."

"I might join you," Madison responded, but the thought made her bury her head in her hands again. "Oh God, Peaches. What's going to happen to me?"

It took a few seconds for the blonde to rush to the kitchen and return with two half-full glasses. "I know," she said, handing Madison one of the whiskies. "I said black coffee would help and we've both had way too much to drink over the last twenty four hours. But this is for medicinal purposes. Get it down you."

Madison took a sip as she watched her friend swallow a mouthful. Peaches seemed to be feeling this as much as she was. She had to admit that the warmth the liquor created as it slid down her insides helped. Reminded her a little of the way Frankie's cum had felt as she'd sucked it into her throat at the club! Why the fuck had Nate and Ethan betrayed her? If they'd behaved themselves, instead of allowing their sordid fantasies to take over, she wouldn't be in this position.

"The bastards!" she spat out, feeling her hairs on the back of her neck rise as she took another sip.

"Absolutely," Peaches agreed, sending her a sympathetic expression. "That Frankie—"

"Not him," Madison snapped. "Nate and Ethan."

Peaches felt a surge of embarrassment hit her face. The same thought that was apparently occurring to her friend had already run through her mind. She couldn't help but feel some responsibility.

"If they hadn't..." Madison continued, but then tailed off. What was the point?

Peaches took a long drink and then crushed her friend to her in a motherly hug. "I'm so sorry..." she whispered as the brunette began to sob again.

"Can you imagine how my dad will react?" Madison asked. She pulled out of the hug and took another drink, before staring into space like a zombie.

Peaches felt a shiver pass through her. She knew exactly how Mr. Cooper would react and it wouldn't be supportive. The way he'd treated Madison over the years had been nothing short of disgraceful. Even since the two girls had met, Peaches had sympathised with what her young friend had had to put up with. Yet she'd handled it all so well...

"Even more important, what they'll say at work?" Madison continued, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. "If I lose my job, I can't afford the rent on this place. Then what the fuck am I going to do? Where will I live?"

Peaches shook her head, searching for words of comfort. Something Madison had told her earlier made her think that maybe this wasn't all as cut and dried as they both feared? "What I'm thinking," she slowly said, "is this. You said Frankie told you he wasn't going to be charged. That's grossly unfair. But maybe it's a blessing in disguise?"

"Blessing?" Madison bloodshot eyes were wide. It even looked like she might strike her friend.

Peaches immediately regretted her clumsy phrasing, and softened her voice as she continued. "Think about it. If he isn't, there's unlikely to be any publicity. Unless you're unlucky, no-one will know. Not your dad, your work or anyone else."

She could practically see the weight on her friend's shoulders peel away. It was as if she'd thrown her a lifeline. When Madison looked at her with those large, brown eyes, they were filled with genuine hope. "You think so? Really?"

Peaches nodded as she clutched the brunette's still trembling hands. "I'd say it was very likely," she told her, even though she realised she was clutching at straws. "This sort of thing must happen all the time and anyway, who's interested in a little girl from Newtown?"

***

The thing that set him apart from every other journalist, Sammy Ferris told himself, was few others would actually get off their fat asses when they received information like this. Within half an hour of receiving Sergeant Robbie Macpherson's telephone call, he was on the scene.

Sam Spade would have been fucking proud of him...

Pulling a small mirror out from the inside pocket of his trench coat, he carefully inspected the angle of his hat. It was so difficult to get just right and he prided himself on his fastidiousness. He adjusted the brim three times before he was satisfied and then slipped the mirror back into place. The trench coat was easier. Check the buttons and the belt, then pull it tighter, and the job was done. If you were going to look the part, do it properly.

Okay, the parcel he'd hidden under the coat had spoilt the perfect effect he was looking for. But the concealed spoils of war were worth their weight in gold.

Reaching into one of the outside pockets, he produced a packet of cigarettes and a thin box of matches. Tapping the pack on the back of his hand, just like they did in the movies, he extracted a cigarette. It took three attempts to light it but eventually, cupping his hands and turning away from the slight breeze, he was successful.

For a few moments he observed the bright orange tip before slipping the cigarette into the corner of his mouth. A single drag sent smoke spiralling skywards.

Yes, Sammy, he told himself, you are one smart cookie...

Had he not been astute enough to hurry across to the woman's block of flats, he wouldn't have known to check her bin. Fuck, he wouldn't have even known which bin was hers. Okay, he'd hurried there in the vain hope that he might be able to intercept her on her arrival, but things had worked out much, much better.

From Macpherson's description of the girl, there'd been no doubt that the brunette who'd stomped out of the flats was Madison Cooper. He hadn't known what the contents of the plastic bag were that she'd angrily thrown into the rubbish bin.

But previous experience suggested he might have hit paydirt...

He'd waited a few minutes before casually sauntering across the road from his position in the corner of the bus shelter. The trick was to remain inconspicuous.

Glancing around a couple of times, his heart had begun to beat faster as he'd furtively opened the bin. Even before he'd retrieved the carrier bag, he could see the clothes inside. A few seconds later, he'd liberated his prize and nonchalantly returned to the bus shelter. A quick examination confirmed that items matched Sergeant's Robbie Macpherson description.

Ferris patted the findings secured inside his trench coat and congratulated himself. There wasn't any doubt in his mind that her clothes would have semen stains on them. They always did.

***

"I can't sleep," Madison complained.

Peaches' suggestion of a quick nap had seemed sensible, especially after the nights they'd both had. Neither woman had managed much rest last night, albeit for different reasons. But try as she might, sleep just wouldn't come.

"Me neither," Peaches softly answered. She pushed up onto her elbows and glanced across at the other single bed. Like her, Madison had stripped to her underwear for the nap. Her friend's voluptuous, honey-tanned body was a sexy sight in that vivid red. How could she be feeling horny again after her escapades at Leon's house?

"I'm never going to drink alcohol ever again," Madison sighed, rubbing her eyes.

"Me, too," Peaches laughed, reaching for her glass of water and passing it between them. "Plenty of fluid, that's the answer." Jumping up, she swung her body onto Madison's bed, settling behind her friend. "Move across and let me rub your shoulders. Take some of that tension away."

The brunette gulped at the water as Peaches' fingers dug into her skin. "God, that's good."

"I've always been good with my hands," her friend giggled, unfastening the hook at the back of Madison's bra before her friend could stop her. The opportunity to touch that fabulous body was too good to resist. Maybe they could pick up from yesterday?

"Hey..." Madison objected, twisting her head around. She held the front of the bra to her breasts as Peaches pulled the straps from her shoulders.

"Don't be shy," Peaches cooed, dragging the red top away from the clutching fingers. She dropped it over the side of the bed. "These tits look like they need some attention, too."

"Oh no, you don't," Madison murmured, covering her breasts with her arms. "After what I've gone through last night, I'm definitely not in the mood for any hanky panky."

"Hanky panky?" mocked Peaches, dropping her chin onto her friend's shoulder. "Is that what the posh birds go in for?"

The two girls laughing eyes found each other's. "That's me," Madison grinned. "A posh bird."

"Well, posh bird," Peaches murmured, kissing her friend's shoulder. She took hold of the protecting hands and pulled them away from Madison's swells. "Give them up...

"Peaches!" the brunette warned, though it sounded like a token protest.

"What, baby?" the grinning girl asked, rubbing her own warm bra-covered breasts into Madison's back. The way their warm bodies rubbed against one another during their brief struggle had increased her excitement and her friend's soft moan suggested the brunette was feeling it, too. She slid her hands around her friend's waist and upwards onto the undersides of her breasts. "Doesn't this feel good?" she murmured, cupping them.

"I never want to be with a man again," Madison murmured. Her voice was thick with arousal.

Peaches smiled knowingly and kissed her neck. "I understand, baby," she whispered into her ear. Her hands cupped Madison's swells and rotated the golden brown nipples in her palms. "But who needs men when we have each other?"

The brunette turned her head to look imploringly at Peaches. It was as if the events of the last twenty-four hours had caught up with her. She needed comfort. And she had to find a way of releasing the tension inside. "Love me," she simply said.

Peaches felt the swell of arousal reach the tips of her toes. After all this time, Madison was giving herself to her. She closed her mouth over those glossy red lips. Her tongue pushed inside. They kissed for a long while, softly at first and then more frantically. Their mouths were wet and alive and made for one another. All the while, Peaches' soft hands continued to caress those thrusting tits that she loved so much.

"Lie down," she encouraged when Madison whimpers of delight increased in volume. She smiled into the aroused, deep brown eyes and gently eased her friend back on the bed. "I'll make you feel much better..."

It surprised Peaches how easily her friend complied. They'd both enjoyed little moments of sexual teasing over the years, and while she'd always been prepared to go that one step further, Madison hadn't. She'd thought she never would. And yet here, right now, the beautiful brunette was allowing Peaches to guide her back onto the mattress.

Each action was slow, calculated, as if the blonde was concerned that any sudden movement might break the spell. She smiled encouragingly into those wide brown eyes as she dipped her head for another soft kiss. Tipping her head to one side, she provocatively flicked her tongue across that sexy mouth. She curled it along Madison's lips, encouraging her friend to take it inside again. All the while her soft hands ran across the tanned skin, caressing her breasts, nipples, flat stomach and ever so gently easing those long legs apart.

Madison eyes closed. "Oh, Peaches..."

The blonde adjusted position to slide a leg between her thighs. When she rotated it harder against Madison's pussy, her friend couldn't help herself. Her thighs widened. Her hands found their way under Peaches' panties to her athletic ass, pulling her more tightly into the embrace.

"Yes, baby..." Peaches whispered into her ear. Her tongue danced around Madison's earlobe as she pressed harder, increasing the compelling pressure. Now it was here, she wasn't going to let the moment escape. "You want Peaches to make you feel good?"

Her friend didn't speak, but responded by pushing her body upwards. Her hips moved in circular motions against Peaches' thigh, seeking and finding the magical sensations on her clit.

"Tell me," Peaches whispered again, pulling her leg away. She began to kiss down that fabulous body, maintaining eye contact as she went. When she swirled her long tongue around Madison's nipple, her friend's body jumped at the jolt.

"Oh God!"

The blonde grinned wickedly. Her friend was widening her legs and gripping Peaches' short hair. She was hers, now...

She licked down the brunette's flat stomach, leaving a light trail of saliva behind her. When her mouth reached the top of Madison red panties, she grasped each side of the skimpy garment and dragged them downwards. There was no objection and she hadn't expected any. Settling comfortably between her friend's thighs, her own arousal grew even further at the sight of the baby-smooth skin and glistening lips.

She blew across the clean-shaven sex. Madison had always been so reserved with her and yet here she was, begging for it. The blonde gripped Madison's ankles and held them apart, as if it was a final, confirmatory act of what was about to happen. Holding them wide, she provocatively flicked her tongue into empty air—a sign of things to come.