Goddess of Vengeance - Jackie Collins [137]
Luscious stopped what she was doing and said a ladylike, ‘We gonna fuck or what?’
By this time Seducta had almost passed out. She was slumped on the floor, her eyes half closed.
It was a sorry scene, but Armand was too high to even notice.
‘Where is she?’ he repeated, rising from the couch, swaying slightly, almost losing his balance altogether.
‘Your girlfriend took off an hour ago,’ Luscious offered, leaving her potted palm and moving over to him. ‘Least I think she did. Either that or she’s dead in the bathroom.’ Luscious snickered. Wouldn’t that be something. Another psychic revelation. Although if the girlfriend was dead, best not to hang around.
‘Bathroom?’ Armand questioned. He wasn’t thinking straight at all. His heart was pounding and he felt nauseous.
‘Yeah,’ Luscious said. ‘She went in there. Want I should take a look?’
‘Why?’ Armand said, giving her a hard stare.
‘See if she’s there.’
‘Do you have a gun?’
‘’Scuse me?’
Armand threw her a disdainful look. ‘A gun?’
Luscious wrinkled her nose; this motherfucker was sicker than she thought. Although she preferred him in this state rather than the way he was when he’d slapped her and Seducta around. ‘Whaddya want a gun for?’ she inquired, thinking it might be smart to humour him.
‘Because,’ Armand stated mysteriously.
‘’Cause what?’
‘Because I have time to kill,’ he answered grandly.
Shit! He was off his rocker – something her mom used to say when the old cow was sober enough to say anything at all. What the hell. He was either a stark raving looney or a dangerous psycho.
‘You’re not lookin’ so hot,’ she ventured. ‘You’d better sit your ass down.’
‘Are you aware that I have more money than you’ll ever see in your lifetime?’ Armand boasted, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a stack of hundred-dollar bills. ‘You’re a whore, you should appreciate money,’ he added, tossing a handful of bills at her.
The money fluttered around her naked, skinny, tattooed body before falling to the ground.
This nutjob with the snake eyes was definitely crazier than she’d thought.
She squashed the urge to bend down and snatch the money up.
Seducta wasn’t so patient. After watching the money fall, she began crawling over on all fours to collect.
Luscious wasn’t having it. Before Seducta could get there, she quickly bent down and scooped up as much money as she could. Holy fuck! she thought, cramming the bills together. There has to be a coupla thou here. This asshole is loco for sure.
‘A gun,’ Armand said. ‘I wish to obtain a hired gun. Do you know where I might find such a service?’
‘Why?’ Luscious said boldly. ‘You gonna shoot your girlfriend?’
‘What makes you dare to think that you can speak to me in such a fashion?’ Armand said, glaring at her, a disdainful look on his face. ‘Do you not know who you are addressing?’
‘You di’nt give me your name,’ Luscious said, noticing a couple of hundred-dollar bills she’d failed to pick up.
‘Not a name,’ he announced with another grand gesture. ‘A title. Prince Armand Mohamed Jordan, soon to be King of Akramshar.’
‘Sure, honey,’ Luscious said, carrying on humouring him while grabbing her purse and stuffing the money inside. ‘Whyn’t I just call you Arnie?’
‘A hired gun,’ Armand continued, nodding to himself. ‘To kill an enemy of the people. Get me that and money is no object.’
‘No object, huh?’ Luscious said, a thousand jumbled thoughts running through her head. ‘Y’know what, Arnie? I gotta hunch you might’ve gotten yourself a deal.’
* * *
Randy Sorrentino lay back on a lounger (a couch that was about to fall off the back of a truck was being delivered next week), abstractedly stroking his cock and balls, while a Real Housewives of somewhere played on the TV in front of him. Rich pieces of ass with tight faces, plastic bazooms and stupid fuckhead husbands made it a trip to watch. Plus he liked checking out their over-the-top houses to see how easy it would be to break in and relieve them of some of their stuff. They all had too much stuff – a little sharing wouldn’t hurt.
Randy was done for the