Chaptah' 3

I conned Lester into taking me shopping. Okay, so I hadn't conned him. He volunteered. And besides, I felt the most comfortable around him because we were so close in age. Lester took me to all the clothes stores within a twenty-mile radius of Key West, which was a lot. Key West wasn't a big place. I finally decided on a white halter top and a short peasanty-looking, light blue skirt. My bruises from Jack's 'lecture' were almost gone. You barely noticed the ones on my arms and legs, and the darkest ones were my ribs. The skirt hit right at my knees and I could adjust the top to make it just short enough to see a bit of my belly-button ring. Yes, I had a belly-button ring. I got it in result of a failed bet. Lester's jaw hit the floor when he saw it.

"God'amighty, if you were just a couple of years older…" he said, eyeing me.

"Don't get any ideas, wise-guy," I said, retreating back into the changing room. While I was shopping I had decided to buy some shorts 'cause Key West wasn't exactly Antarctica, and I bought a few more tank-tops and a new charm for my belly-button.

Lester seemed bored after three hours so I suggested we get some food. We stopped at a little stand right up against on the sidewalk. We sat side by side at a picnic table in Mallory square, enjoying the sun and food.

"Can I ask you something?" Lester said suddenly.

"I don't think I have a choice, seeing as you just did," I said, raising an eyebrow at him.

He ignored that witty comment. "Why'd you run away from home?"

Ah. "Ah." I turned back to my sandwich. Not even I was clear on that. It's not like I was having family issues. Stephanie, my older sister, was already divorced. My oldest sister Valerie got married and is living happily in California. My parents were cool. My Grandma Mazur was the shit. I really had nothing to complain about.

"Abusive parents?" Lester asked softly, wrenching me back into reality.

I choked on my food. "Oh God no, nothing like that. I would be more screwed up than I already am." I shrugged. "I was just bored I guess. I needed to get out and go places."

Lester nodded and turned back to his hotdog, or rather, hotdogs. We sat in silence for a minute and he spoke up again. "So…do you keep in contact?"

"Ah…no…I don't really think that's the best idea right now…I sent my parents a letter telling them I was fine…but I don't think I could stand them begging me to come home when I wasn't ready." Boy, did I sound like the perfect daughter right then. I looked over at Lester, suddenly nervous, but he just nodded and fell silent again. I was glad he didn't try to lecture me or anything.

"I understand," Lester said, and that was the last he spoke of the topic. I was relieved.

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It was six thirty when Lester and I got back to the hotel. We were supposed to be leaving at seven thirty, so I was pretty panicked on time. I had no idea what I was going to do with my hair. So I kicked everyone out of Ranger's hotel room and showered.

My hair is naturally curly. It's a lighter brown than Stephanie's, and it hangs past my shoulders. I usually keep it in braids, but tonight I figured I would wear it down, in a sexy mussed look.

The finishing touch to my outfit was my little martini glass belly button charm, hanging on a little gold chain. I took one last look at myself, making sure I looked hot. I guess I wouldn't know for sure until I got the guys' reaction.

I opened the door adjoining Ranger's room to Lester's and Bobby's and peered out.

"Okay, I'm ready."

They all looked up at me and five jaws thumped onto the floor. Seriously, it was like Jim Carrey in The Mask. A-woooooga. I started to get a little nervous so I retreated back into Ranger's room. Ranger followed me in.

"You clean up pretty nice," he said, a hint of a smile appearing on his lips.

I put my hands on my hips and raised an eyebrow. "What, I'm not normally this hot?" I was trying to cover up my embarrassment with a witty comment but it was doing nothing for me.

Ranger's smile widened a bit and he looked me up and down, but not in a hey-I'd-like-to-shag-you way. In any case, it didn't help the color of my face. "Where are you going to put the blackjack?"

I glanced down at my white stilettos. "I'm not going to carry a blackjack tonight," I said, "but there will be a knife in my purse." I'd figured that it wouldn't be very sexy to be carrying around my old, ratty, canvas messenger bag so I'd bought a little light blue handbag to match my skirt.

Ranger nodded and led the way to the elevator. Tank, Bobby, Lester, and Jordan all piled in with us.

"So…after I lure the guy out of the bar, and you guys haul him off to the clink…what happens then?" I asked, breaking the silence.

"We come home and veg," said Lester, leaning back against the elevator wall.

"That's fun," I said.

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I was in a shiny black SUV with Ranger and he was explaining the situation to me. Randy Winston was charged with drug dealing, gun dealing, assault, first degree murder, and to top it all off….indecent exposure. Can you say eek? I got more apprehensive as Ranger pulled up in front of Durty Harry's. I was looking at Winston's picture, trying to memorize the icky, scar-ridden face.

"Ew," I said.

"No kidding. But don't worry, you'll be wearing a wire, and you'll have a panic button. Do you have your ID?"

I grinned at him and flashed him my ID that showed my age as 21. "Yup."

"Normally I would have had one of my men undercover as a bartender, but I've been after this guy so many times he's recognized one of my crew every single time." He reached across me to open the glove compartment. He pulled out a box and opened it. Inside was a little microphone attached to a little wire. "Tank, Bobby, Lester, Jordan, and I will all be able to hear everything you say," he said, handing me the wire and some electrical tape. He pulled out a little black remote with a red button on it. "For any reason you can't speak, press this button. It will notify us that you need help."

I took the remote and dropped it in my bag. Then I looked down at the microphone and wire in my hand. "Where do I put it?" I asked Ranger.

Ranger looked at me. "Where it can't be seen," he said. I think I knew what he meant.

"Ah," I said and Ranger politely looked away while I secured the microphone just beneath my bra.

"All set," I said when I was done.

"Before you get Winston's attention, do a check that we can hear you over the mic. I'll call you when I hear you."

I saluted him. "Aye-aye, captain!" Then I jumped out of the SUV and sashayed into the bar.

It wasn't a very big room. But it was lively enough. The perfect place to get drunk with your buddies. Most of the men sat at the bar while most of the women sat in little groups around little tables and booths. There were TVs in the upper corners up the room, mostly tuned to sports. I scanned the room, looking for Winston. He was a big, greasy guy with shaggy black hair and a jagged scar on his face. He was sitting isolated at the end of the bar. Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew.

"Yuck," I said out loud. Thirty seconds later Ranger called me back saying he could hear me loud and clear.

I sighed and tried to look defeated, like I had just got dumped or something. I made my way over to Winston, sitting two stools down from him. The bartender was busy elsewhere, so I propped my head up on one hand and sighed dejectedly. I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and knew Winston was checking me out. I ignored him, trying to look lost in my own little depressing world. Winston kept his distance until the bar tender came back.

"What'll it be, little lady?" The barkeep asked me.

"Martini, dry," I said, sliding him my ID. That was my little secret. If you wait for the bartender to card you, he'll always be a little suspicious. There are plenty of people out there who are over twenty-one but still get carded, so they just offer their ID right off the bat. It's more convincing that way if you're faking it.

A glass appeared in front of me. I reached into my bag for my wallet but Winston was handing the bartender money. "It's on me," he said smoothly.

Ick. Winston moved over a stool so he was right next to me. I made a show of assessing him over my glass. He held out his hand to me. "Randy Winston," he said.

I took his hand, gagging on the inside. "Jamie," I said, "Thanks for getting that." I smiled a little sheepishly, "I don't think I even have any money."

He held onto my hand just a bit too long. "I saw you looking so sad over here and knew you needed some pampering."

Gag me. Just do it now. I sent him a shy smile but didn't respond. That just made him more intrigued. Am I good or what?

"Why, I ask myself, does such a beautiful young woman look so sad?" He asked, laying his hand on mine. I wouldn't have been surprised if boils popped up all over my hand.

I sighed again and took another sip of my martini. "Ah you know…the typical cheating boyfriend." When looking for a man to manipulate, always play damsel in distress.

Winston's hand moved to my leg. "Why would he do that to a goddess such as yourself?" he asked, sliding his hand up my leg. Gag me with a spoon. A fork. Anything you can get your hands on. Just gag me. Goddess? What the fuck? If I wasn't so disgusted I would be laughing right now. I turned back to my drink on the bar and fiddled with the little plastic sword that had the olive on it.

"I don't know. I guess I just wasn't good enough," I let my voice catch and then quickly turned away, trying to make it look like I was going to cry.

Winston reached out a hand and took my chin in his hand, pulling me back to face him. Ew. Winston cooties. This guy was seriously slimy. "Now darling," he said silkily, "don't say such things about yourself."

I picked up my little plastic sword and sucked on the olive. Winston's eyes went to my lips, then to my breasts, southward farther, and then back up to my eyes. By this time I had eaten the olive. Not to mention I was sufficiently creeped out by this guy.

I looked down shyly, "Maybe I'm just looking for a man…an older, more mature man to…help me through this…" I looked back into his eyes with a shy smile. I could swear I saw a little spittle form at the corners of his mouth. Ew. His hand slid up a little further and I had to fight with every nerve in my body to resist smacking him. His other hand was still on my face, gently stroking my cheek. I wanted nothing more than to get out of here. I hated this. I hated when guys hit on me and touched me like this. It made me feel gross.

"Why don't we go somewhere a little more…private? You can let out all your feelings to me," Winston said, sliding a bit closer to me. I smiled at him, knocked back the rest of my drink, and took his hand. I led him to the front doors and out of the bar. The instant we got onto the sidewalk Winston was being cuffed and told that he skipped his court date and needed to go to the police station. Winston resisted at first but was calmed down with the help of a stun gun. I was standing by one of the SUVs, rubbing my bare arms and trying to rid myself of the feeling of his hands on me. Ranger caught sight of me and sauntered over.

"Great job, Jamie," he said with a dazzling grin, "I bet something could have exploded he'd only be paying attention to you."

I grinned back. "He's a creep. Anything with two legs, two tits, and a vagina would have kept his attention."

Ranger smiled and shook his head. "I swear I could feel my heart breaking just listening to you talk about getting cheated on."

I shrugged. "Yeah well I've had a lot of experience getting cheated on so it wasn't that hard." It was true. Every single one of boyfriends (all five of them) cheated on me. I couldn't understand it.

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It was only eight fourty-two when we got back to the hotel and I was bored. I had changed into a pair of Lester's sweats and a tank-top. The boys were sitting were all sitting on the bed or on the floor, watching TV. I stood there, hands on hips, assessing them.

"So this is all you guys do?"

Five grunts.

"Christ on a moped, you people are boring. I'm going on a walk, so if any of you want to join me, you can."