Vanna realized later she never had a chance. Men like Lazlo were vultures waiting to swoop down to snatch their prey. At the time, though, she thought it was luck. She was due for a break. She kept flirting with him, and he flirted right back, making veiled references to a party and the fun they could have. Finally he came in for the kill, although she didn’t know it then. She was only fifteen, for Christ’s sake.
“So what is your name, sweetheart?”
“Vanna.”
“Ha! Like the TV show, eh?”
She grinned. “Don’t I look like her?” She twirled in a circle, letting him get a good look.
“Better.” His gaze turned calculating. “You must be hungry.”
She smiled seductively. “Starving. How did you know?”
He laughed. “Come with me. I buy you food.” His arm went around her shoulder.
She shrugged. “Okay.” Just like that. She was on her way. In a new city. Not hard at all.
They left the bus station and started walking toward the skyscrapers. Despite the frigid air and dark sky, the city threw off a throbbing, pulsing energy just waiting for Vanna to own it. No wonder her mother and sister—it still sounded weird to say that word—loved the place. A block into the walk, though, even with her mother’s jacket, she started to shiver. She’d have to get warmer clothes. Maybe Lazlo would spring for them.
In a few blocks they came to a twenty-four-hour greasy spoon. Lazlo led her inside and bought her a hot dog and a Coke. She’d been hoping for something more substantial, maybe steak. At least pizza. But this was better than nothing. She wolfed down the food.
“Ah. You were hungry,” he said.
She peered at him from under her eyelashes. Some fashion magazine said it made a woman look sexy. “What’s for dessert?” She made her voice sound throaty and suggestive, another trick the magazine advised.
He looked at her and smiled. “We have dessert someplace else.”
“Good.” She settled back in the booth. “But you should know…I only like certain flavors.”
His brow creased as if he didn’t understand.
She was trying to telegraph that she did blow. Not smack, not angel dust, not Ecstacy. Just blow. “You know, the white stuff.”
He still looked puzzled but spoke as if he understood. “Yes, white. You will see. Only white.”
He led her out of the hot dog place. She still wasn’t sure if he got it. “So. You got any wine?”
“Wine?” He frowned again.
“I like white. They go together. White and white,” she said.
“Oh yes. We have white.”
“Great.” She looped her arm through his. They kept walking toward the skyscrapers. They were getting so close she imagined she could reach out and touch them.
“Is your place nearby?”
“Of course.” He patted her arm.
They turned right and started down the street. This street wasn’t so well lit, and the sidewalk was cracked. Vanna had to keep her head down so she didn’t trip. After a couple of blocks, she said,
“How far away are we? I’m cold.”
“We almost there.”
“So, Lazlo, why were you at the bus station? Did you just get into town yourself?”
He answered two beats later. “I come from Milwaukee.”
“What were you doing there?”
Again a hesitation. “Business.” His tone grew less charming. Even gruff. Vanna stole a glance at him. He was looking straight ahead, not at her.
Two blocks later they came to a shabby door front above which a neon sign flashed, “Hotel Leon. Rooms by the Week.”
Vanna swallowed. This wasn’t the kind of place she was expecting. Where was the penthouse? The spacious condo? He opened the door and guided her in.
“This is where you live?”
“Sometimes.”
They walked into a narrow lobby with a small elevator at the back. The front desk occupied one side of the room, but no one was behind it. A warren of tiny cubbyholes held keys with plastic labels attached. An occasional pink message slip peeked out. Lazlo already had a key, so they took the elevator to the third floor.
The room, small and musty, was one step up from a fleabag. A queen bed with a floral spread sat against the wall, and there was a desk with a chipped surface that was marred by several circular white rings. The bathroom flooring consisted of tiny tiles, the kind they used before she was born. She’d been in worse places, but she was disappointed. She thought Chicago hotels would be bigger, better, more upscale. She flopped down on the bed.
“So. Here we are. The party begins.” His smile was cold, almost a sneer.
Vanna forced herself not to recoil. She knew what he wanted. It would be no big deal after he gave her the blow. “I thought we were having dessert,” she said.
“We do.”
She tried to smile. “Hmm. You said you had my flavor.”
He started to unzip his pants.
“Hey. Wait a minute. Where’s the blow?”
He looked over, the smirk still on his lips. “Yes. You will.”
She stood and planted her hands on her hips. “I don’t think you understand.” She frowned. “First the coke. You said you had coke.”
He laughed. “Coca-Cola. Sure, I get you one. After.”
Was he being stupid on purpose? “That’s not the kind of coke I mean. You know that.”
“You’re not choose. I will.” His English suddenly deteriorated, and his accent grew thicker. What was going on?
“Lazlo, I want to score some blow. Cocaine. That’s why I came with you. I thought you knew.”
His expression turned grim. “Come here, Vanna.”
A ripple of fear streaked up her spine. She covered it with bravado and pointed her finger at him. “Listen up, dude. Unless you have what I want, this party is over.” She tried to head toward the door, but he was faster and got there first, blocking her way.
She scowled at him. “Get away from that door.”
“Take your clothes off.”
“What the fuck for? You welshed on our deal.”
His face took on a malicious leer. “Deal? I tell you deal. You take off clothes. Right now.” He stepped out of his pants. He wasn’t wearing underwear. Fondling his cock, he lifted it up for her to see. Engorged and throbbing and huge, it wasn’t circumcised. Again, no big deal. In any other situation, she’d be thrilled with his erection. She’d made it happen. She was in control. The little blond fuck angel.
Not this time.
She tried once more to shift the balance of power. “First, you give me what I want.” She ran her fingers lightly across his dick. “Then I’ll give you what you want.”
Vanna wasn’t prepared for what happened next. Lazlo belted her across her face. She staggered back, her head exploding into a mass of pain. She felt her eyes roll up, and she listed to one side. Her arms involuntarily flailed out, as if hoping he would steady her. But he just stood there. She covered her mouth with her hand. When she pulled it away, her palm was bloody. A tooth felt loose.
“Now!” Lazlo crossed his arms. “Take off your clothes.”
His eyes gleamed with a frenzy that frightened her. She tried to back away, but his hands shot out and grabbed her shoulders, squeezing so hard she almost sank to the floor. She tried to shake them off, but he had her pinned.
“Fuck off. That hurts!”
He slapped her again. The pain reverberated around her skull. Her cheeks stung, and her heartbeat thudded through her temples. She groaned, too dizzy to focus.
“You do what I want.”
She tried to struggle, but she was no match for him. With his hands still gripping her shoulders, he shoved her back onto the bed. He tore her clothes off. Then, making sure his weight was on top of her, he slipped off his shirt. He had a lot more hair on his chest than the boys in Colorado. Too much. An oily, sweet smell oozed from his skin, as if he’d overdosed on cologne to mask the odor of not bathing. She squirmed, but he pressed down on her with enough weight to make her efforts useless. She had no choice.
“Okay. All right.” She panted. “What do you want?”
He grunted, straddled her with his knees and elbows, and shoved his cock in her mouth.