Goddess of Vengeance - Jackie Collins [133]
‘We gotta have music if you want us t’dance,’ she said to Armand, determined to move this show along.
He grunted.
Without waiting for permission she went over to the music system and activated the sound. Loud sound. Eminem and Rihanna together on Love The Way You Lie.
Oh yeah, her kind of song. She admired the way the sexy singer who’d gotten herself beaten up had bitch-slapped Chris Brown with this track. It fuckin’ rocked.
Seducta was standing in front of Armand and Annabelle like a dumb sack of shit, gazing longingly at the mounds of coke.
‘You want some of this?’ Armand offered, his bloodshot eyes raking her over. ‘You want some, come and get it.’
Seducta didn’t need asking twice. She rushed forward, knelt the other side of the coffee table to take a snort, and before she knew it, Armand was on his feet, his hand was on the back of her head, and he was shoving her face down onto the table and into the white powder.
Instinctively Luscious jumped forward and pushed him off her. He spun around and slapped her hard across the cheek.
Seducta surfaced, spluttering and choking, her face a mess of white powder.
‘You bastard!’ Luscious yelled. ‘You could’ve suffocated her.’
Armand laughed, an evil laugh. He felt powerful and invincible. He was powerful and invincible.
‘I’m ready now,’ he said, sitting back down. ‘Dance for me, ladies, before I’m forced to punish you even more.’
* * *
Annabelle watched what was going on in horrified silence. She was shocked by his behaviour. Armand was a crazy man, and there was no doubt in her mind that she had to get the hell out. And fast. Armand Jordan was a definite sicko, and things could only get worse.
It occurred to her that she should’ve escaped on her first trip to the bathroom, but something had held her back. She’d honestly thought that since he was with her, he would have sent the two women away, but it hadn’t happened.
Now he was manhandling them, and forcing them to dance.
It was a horrible, disgusting scenario. She wanted out. She wanted to get back with Eddie.
* * *
To go or stay? That was the quandary Luscious found herself faced with. Her cheek stung where the john had slapped her, and Seducta was a sloppy mess. But the money was too good to risk getting stiffed. Dirty Den might have to give it back if they ran out on this jerk. So since he seemed to have settled back on the couch, Luscious reluctantly started with a few lacklustre stripper moves, encouraging Seducta to do the same.
Suddenly his girlfriend rose to her feet, mumbled something about leaving her phone in the bathroom, and hurried past them.
Luscious had a hunch that she wasn’t coming back, and Luscious’s hunches never let her down. At the age of fifteen, while blowing a preacher, he’d stopped her mid-blow and informed her she had psychic powers and that what she was doing to him was God’s work. ‘You must visit me every day,’ he’d insisted. ‘It is God’s will.’
So she’d done so, until eventually he’d moved away.
To this day she still believed in her psychic abilities. After all, wasn’t it her who’d told Randy he was going to do better this year? And sure enough Mikey had given him a job. Okay, so it wasn’t the greatest job in the world delivering drugs, but it was a whole lot better than the lowdown crap he’d been into before.
Yes, she was definitely psychic, and if she knew anything at all, it was that the stuck-up bitch wasn’t coming back.
* * *
After rushing past the dancing hookers, Annabelle made it into the bathroom where she quickly locked the door and leaned against it, catching her breath. What a nightmare scene. She had to get out now.
Earlier she’d noticed a large window above the Jacuzzi tub, and rather than get into a fight with Armand – for she suspected that if she told him she was leaving he would not let her go quietly – she decided the window was the perfect way out.
Removing her high heels and stuffing them in her purse, she gingerly stepped into the tub, and from there she scrambled onto the surrounding marble ledge, opened the window and since