DISCLAIMER – This is a fictional story to be read and enjoyed. If you can't read, stop reading. If you can't enjoy, stop reading. If you don't like any of the story codes mentioned above, stop reading. If you can't stop, it's not my problem.
Part 4 – Somebody's Gonna Get Shot
The next morning I woke up in Renee's bed. I looked at her hair and felt a growing tightness in my stomach. What did this mean? Was Andy's vision bound to come true no matter who I kicked out of my life? How could I stop someone else from dying?
I slid out from the covers and slipped out the door. Walking naked through the big, empty, cavernous house made me think of myself as a streaker without an audience. I went down the stairs and into the parlor to put on my clothes.
Just as I finished getting dressed, the door opened and Zhi slipped in. "You are leaving?"
"Yes, for good." I said. "And you should to come with me."
She shook her head. "I cannot."
As Zhi stood there I remembered how I couldn't guess her age the first time I'd met her. Looking at her now I realized she was at the younger end of that spectrum.
"It's dangerous here," I said as I stood up and walked over to her. "Renee is screwing over Tyler and he knows it."
She shook her head vigorously. "Not anymore. Duscha was…" Zhi took in a breath and let it out. "She betrayed Renee. There is woman who comes to the parties, owns model agency. She has friend who deals drugs, and he wanted some of Renee's clients. The woman made deal with Duscha, if she got some of Renee client names, woman would help Duscha get modeling career. But woman lied, and after Duscha got her names she didn't do anything."
"But Renee found out."
Zhi snorted. "Not found out. Duscha told Renee what happened. She wanted revenge on modeling woman and thought Renee would go after her. But she took out her anger on Duscha instead. Renee told Tyler that Duscha was one stealing, when she transport money. So now Tyler thinks Renee didn't do anything wrong."
I shook my head. "Maybe Renee believes that, but I don't. Tyler didn't just kill Duscha…he tortured her. Probably wanted to know if she still had any of his money. You can bet your ass she told him everything."
"Then why is he not here now?"
"Because he wants Renee to think her plan worked, give her time to let her guard down."
Zhi gave me a cynical look. "How do you know all this?"
I gave a slight chuckle. "Too many detective novels." Then I turned serious and said, "It really is dangerous around here. Why not leave?"
Zhi sighed, and then looked straight into my eyes. "I had very little in my country, job that barely gave me place to live and food to eat. Like so many, I wanted more. Then man offered me passage to America. I came in one of those…" she struggled with the words, "cargo containers. Many of us packed together. None knew what expected of us when we arrived. Not until they separate women from men." I swallowed hard as she continued. "But I was lucky. Renee did not want, how do you say it?"
"Damaged goods," I guessed.
"Yes. She was able to look at girls early. She picked me. Now I live in this house and want for nothing."
"What about freedom?"
Zhi's eyes went to the floor. "Sometimes you have to give up something to get what you want."
In that moment, I suddenly understood the sadness I'd seen in Zhi's eyes. She had come here with high hopes for the chance of more in her life, but in the process she had lost something – her innocence.
Before I could think anything further, Zhi was speaking again. "Renee has given me so much. I cannot just leave her after that."
I nodded and put my hand on her shoulder. "Remember," I said, "what she did to Duscha. Just because you have loyalty to someone doesn't always mean they deserve it."
When I got to my car I looked back and saw Zhi standing at the door. She smiled and waved. I realized I didn't get the chance to ask her what the tattoo on her ass meant. It didn't really matter. Driving away from the house that day was the last I ever saw of her.
I found myself cruising around with no direct destination in mind. I didn't want to go home and I wasn't scheduled to work at the store until later. What Zhi said about giving up something to get what you want was stuck in my head, that and Jess. It reminded me of something, something that happened with Monica.
We were still up at the cabin. Monica told me she wanted to fulfill one of my fantasies and do a nude hike. We'd still wear boots and backpacks, but other than that we were naked in the wilderness. It felt strange walking outside for so long in my birthday suit, but it also felt liberating. Being out in nature, surrounded by trees and dirt and rocks and sunshine, I realized this is how our ancestors lived, and I started questioning if it was such a good idea to stray so far from our origins. Maybe my body was getting too much oxygen.
When we reached a peak on this one hill I knew it was time to take out my surprise. The peak overlooked the horizon and gave a beautiful view of the valley. I said we should rest for a while and take off our backpacks and boots. Up to that moment I wasn't sure if Monica had a slight suspicion of what I was planning, but when she gasped as I got down on one knee I knew she had no idea.
"Mon, I love you. I can't imagine life without you, so I wanted to ask for your hand in marriage. Please be mine, forever." They were haunting words now that I remember them.
"But…I thought with what happened with your parents, and how I'm like your mom…I thought marriage scared you."
I smiled. "A beautiful woman once told me that something worth having should scare you a little."
Tears ran down her face as she said, "Yes."
I tried to look confused and said, "Is that yes, you said that, or yes, you'll marry me?"
Monica smiled through the tears and kneeled down to kiss me.
The next night we had our batchelorette party. I had planned the whole thing, including bringing booze and some pot. We built a small fire near the cabin and danced around it, the portable stereo belting out our favorite CD's. Eventually our lips found each other and we kissed for a long time. The CD changed and the sounds of Daft Punk came through the speakers. Monica broke away from the kiss and pushed me back.
"I've got a surprise for you now," she said. Monica led me over to a rock and told me to sit. "Close your eyes."
I did so and then I heard a rustling sound. She had brought a small duffel bag and refused to tell me what was in it. The sound of tinkling bells confused me.
"Am I supposed to salivate now?" I asked.
"Ha ha," she said. "I thought this was going to be the big surprise of the trip, but you outdid me."
"Ha ha," I responded.
"Actually, this kind of works with it. You know how I was telling you I was going to exercise classes on Wednesday nights?"
"Telling me as in lying to me?"
"It's still a form of exercise."
Then the music stopped. I heard her changing CD's. The next thing I heard was some kind of Arabic music.
"Open up," Monica said.
I did and then gasped. Monica was wearing a belly dancer's outfit, with a bikini top that had beads hanging around the edge and a long skirt with a paisley pattern. She wore a waist chain and anklets around each foot, and all three were the kind that had little bells on it. Around her head was some kind of head necklace that had an amulet resting on her forehead, and there were bracelets on her wrists with chains attached to rings on her fingers.
Monica started moving to the music as she approached, her hips swaying in a seductive rhythm. When she stopped in front of me her belly was inches from my face. It started rolling, making the bells ring and looking like it was calling me to it. Monica's hands moved over my head and down around the sides of my face, around front and up again. She never made physical contact with me, but I was as turned on as I would have been if she were eating my pussy. Okay, maybe not that turned on, but I was on my way there.
Monica must have sensed this, because she looked down at me and said, "Play with yourself."
She didn't have to say it twice. My fingers went between my legs while my other hand started playing with a nipple. Monica stepped back and danced with her hips, while her upper body and legs were almost still, making her hips look like they were a separate entity from the rest of her body. She moved in close again while she did this. The skirt hung very low on her waist and her belly was practically calling to me. I moved my head close and went to lick it, but Monica grabbed my head in her hands and pushed it back. The way she did it was graceful, almost like it was an actual move of the dance.
She turned suddenly and danced away from me, shaking her rear in the most enticing way. I leaned back on the rock and slid a finger inside of me. Swinging around again, Monica moved wildly as the tempo of the music picked up. Her arms flailed around as her torso gyrated to the beat. Then in a flash her hand moved and suddenly the skirt was unclasped and she whipped it around over her head. But what really interested me was further down. Monica wore a low-slung G-string with beads hanging off every inch of it.