Mary Ann August smiled at Claire, and Claire said, ‘Honey, you’ve really surprised me. Things are working out fine. Mr. Forbes was very pleased today, and for Mr. Forbes to be pleased—well, that’s really a compliment.’
‘He promised he’ll be back soon,’ Mary Ann said, stretching her arms above her head so the short, white nightgown she wore pulled up, exposing a fine matting of pale-coffee-colored pubic hair.
Claire’s eyes wandered down to take a peek. No trouble with this one. Some girls were born to be whores.
Mary Ann flopped back on the bed, parting her thighs. ‘Gee, Claire, I wish I could take a walk,’ she said innocently. I’m really cheesed about being shut in all the time. I need fresh air.’
‘Next week,’ Claire promised.
Mary Ann pouted. ‘You can trust me, I’m not going to run off. I like it here. I like you…’ She threw her captor a long, lingering look.
Claire moved nearer the bed. ‘You’re a smart girl. No trouble. A girl like you can make a lot of money if you want to. Now that we’ve fixed your hair you look so pretty.’
Mary Ann smiled. ‘Enzio wouldn’t like it this way.’
Claire sat down on the bed and casually ran her fingers up Mary Ann’s leg, heading toward the fuzz. ‘Enzio’s not going to have to like it, is he?’
Mary Ann giggled, spreading her legs apart. ‘Are you a dyke, Claire?’ she asked, licking her lips.
The pressure of Claire’s fingers hardened. ‘I’ve seen too many potbellies and limp hard-ons to be anything else.’ A pause. ‘Have you ever tried it?’
Mary Ann giggled again. ‘Mr. Forbes couldn’t make me come. I told him a little head would do the trick, but Mr. Forbes said that was my job.’
Claire bent down slowly, her eyes bright. ‘Mr. Forbes must be screwy in the mind.’
Mary Ann sighed and lay back, ready to enjoy the ministrations of Claire.
Five minutes passed. Soon Claire was thoroughly engrossed in the task at hand.
Carefully Mary Ann reached under the bed and got a firm grip on the chair leg she’d hidden there earlier. She then raised her upper body until she could see the top of Claire’s close-cropped head. She moaned, causing Claire to increase her efforts. Then slowly, so as not to disturb anything, she raised the chair leg and smashed it down heavily on Claire’s head. Once, twice, three times.
There was blood as Claire slumped to the floor, and Mary Ann was sorry about that. But she certainly had no intention of being locked up and forced into the life of a prostitute. Oh, no. Oh, dear me, no. Not Mary Ann August. Not after she had worked hard and put up with Enzio Bassalino for all those months. She had jewelry, clothes, and two fur coats. She had possessions worth money—enough money that, if she sold them, she could go back to the small town in Texas she hailed from and buy herself a nice little business. A boutique, perhaps, or maybe a beauty parlor. She had known her time with Enzio was not a permanent thing and had planned accordingly.
Dressing hurriedly, she took money and keys from Claire’s pocketbook.
Mary Ann August had possessions—and son of a bitch, she was going to get them.