Chapter Forty-Seven: Double-Crossed

Beetle sat on Lydia's bedroom floor, a shaky cigarette in his hand and an empty beer bottle to at his side, waiting in silence for the sirens of the Neitherworld to come and swallow him up. He'd already watched Lydia's ass get taken to the station. Sure, the cops didn't find a thing, but that didn't stop them from cuffing her and taking her in for questioning. Apparently, breather cops were just as insufferable as the dead ones. At least Deetz wouldn't get put away, and that solved half the problem, but he still didn't have his fucking ring.

He took another long drag off his smoke, his hand still shaking with undead adrenaline. His eyes darted to Lydia's alarm clock in the dark. It had been a few hours, and still no Neitherworld fuzz, and that gave him another idea. It wasn't smart. It was actually pretty damned stupid, but he didn't have a choice at that point. Beetle formed a circle with his hands, cigarette dangling from his grimy lips, as he decided to take another peek through the portal.

Trixy was trashed and alone, basically surrounded by enough beer and smokes to mirror his own. She was sitting at the kitchen table, clacking her nails and looking miserable as hell. That made two of them, he reasoned. "Eh, what the hell?" he shook his head, at a loss for anything else to do other than take the risk and get a ring so he could force it on Lydia's finger as soon as she was released back into his grasp. That seemed to be the only answer.

Beetle inhaled deeply, shaking his head and muttering defeatedly to himself. "Here goes nothin'."

...

Green fog parted from his vision, as Beetlejuice found himself in his living room, with Trixy's back to him. He stood completely still, listening and hearing the strangest noises coming from her. Was that crazy bitch laughing? He scowled, leaning forward and listening harder. What the hell? She was crying?

Okay, now he was having to stuff down the weird feelings THAT was giving him on top of the massive pile of shit he was already suppressing. He shook his head, dismissing her sobbing fit as he quietly crept out of her sight and into his bedroom. He tried to not so much as look the wrong way as he slid over to the top drawer, taking out his key and ever so quietly sliding it into the keyhole. As he turned it, it barely clicked, causing him to wince hard in response. Luckily, Trixy didn't hear it, so he gently pulled open the drawer and nearly foamed at the mouth when he eyed the precious mountain of Neitherworld rings piled up inside. Greedily, he scooped handfuls out, stuffing them in his trouser pockets. Too bad he couldn't just juice them up to Lydia's apartment. If only things in the Neitherworld were that simple, then maybe he'd be on a fucking beach somewhere already.

Beetle slid the drawer shut, locking it again for good measure, before getting ready to zap his ass back to his future home. However, for some pathetic reason, he couldn't bring himself to leave just yet. For starters, he needed to know if Trixy had acted on her threat, or if she was simply full of shit and bluffing. Secondly, well, there was no second reason. It sure as hell wasn't because she was crying. Why would she cry over him, anyway?

"SHIT!" he clinched his fists, knowing that he HAD to know if he was on his way to the pen or not. It literally meant everything. He sighed, stepping into the kitchen, staring at the back of Trixy's bleached blonde head like he was afraid he'd explode if she made eye contact with him.

"What're ya doin'?" he finally muttered, as Trixy whipped around in her seat, wiping at her face.

"What does it look like, Juice?" she glared at him long and hard, before taking a big gulp of her beer.

"Did ya call the cops on me, er...?" he asked her warily, as she rolled her eyes.

"So that's what you came back for. Figures." she spat miserably, stepping out of her chair and stepping up to him. "You're not even sorry, are you? This was your dumb plan all along, wasn't it?"

He shrugged. It wasn't really expected. Of course, he never expected Trixy to be another vengeful notch in his belt, either. "Let's get real here. Ya didn't want me. Ya wanted Billy boy." he folded his arms across his chest defiantly, feeling his lip snarl just thinking about it all.

"Maybe Bill wouldn't have been in the picture if you coulda' kept your dick in your pants, Juice." she remarked, obviously still sore over the whole ordeal.

"Fuck me." he sighed. "Well, MAYBE I woulda' kept my dong to muhself if you would have acted like ya gave a shit in the first place!" he snapped once more, feeling his temper rise again. Why couldn't she just drop it?

"Yeah, yeah, Juicey! It's always MY fault! Right?" Trixy said, wiping gobs of mascara and tears off her face again. What was it with him and sad bitches? "You knew who I was when you got with me! It wasn't a problem then!"

"Yer forgettin' one thing, Sweet Cheeks. Yer supposed to CHANGE when ya find the right person, you twat! I practically BEGGED yer ass, and you know it! You kept dancin' just to spite me! I told ya I hated it, and you just got worse! What man wants to see his girl pawed at by a bunch of drunk fuckers every night?" he growled, getting way too caught up in his past for his own good.

"What?! I didn't ask you to change, Dickwad!" Trixy yelled, shoving his arm. "Why did it all fall on me?"

"BECAUSE I WASN'T LOOKIN' FOR ANYONE ELSE, TRIXY! I WANTED TO BE WITH YOU!" he finally lost it, screaming in her face due to his already fried brain and frayed nerves.

"Then why won't you? Why won't you just do your part, so I don't have to strip again? Why can't we start over, Juicey?" she asked, and he couldn't wrap his head around what she was actually doing. Knowing Trixy, this was another way to fuck with him for her pleasure. She was really good at that, after all. Even if it wasn't, it would never get any better between them, and he knew that. They'd run in circles nipping at each other's heels for all eternity if he let her back in.

"No. That ain't happenin' now." he shook his head, trying to calm down and stay on track. He felt like he'd been dragged through every level of hell twice, but he had to remind himself that he had the ring and that there were no cops after his ass as of now. Besides, if Bill came back, he knew he'd be back out the door in a heartbeat. There was no convincing him otherwise.

Trixy scowled deeply, throwing her beer bottle across the room and breaking it on the wall. "It's that little bitch, isn't it?"

"That ain't nothin' to do with it. Our asses were done before she came along." he said, knowing that was really the truth of it all.

"We were, huh? Then why did you give up the moment she started showing up? You said as soon as that ankle bracelet was off, you'd do better. You just quit trying altogether. Explain that Juicey." she scoffed, putting him on the spot. She may have had a point, but he wasn't about to admit to that.

"Forget I even came here." he rubbed his head, which was beginning to absolutely throb from the stress.

"You love her, don't you?" Trixy finally asked, her voice low and soft. "That's why you stopped."

It was all he could do not to fly apart at that moment. He wasn't about to say the truth. Not to her. Not to anyone. Not even to himself. "Believe me. You got the good end of the bargain." he warned her, hoping she'd back off.

Suddenly, Trixy's mood shifted completely. "So, you ARE gettin' out of here! You're goin' to the breather world for good, huh?!" she grinned deviously. "You're going to fuck her over."

"Look, why don't ya just drop all this past shit an' move on?" Beetle deflected, not wanting to entertain her constant badgering.

"Like you, Mister Twelve Year Grudge? Not on your afterlife, Juicey." Trixy finally ascended to full bitch right before his eyes, as she began to actually materialize a phone in her hand.

"Oh, no... You wouldn't dare..." Beetle glared daggers at her face.

"I know you got those rings out, Juicey. Your key was gone." she said, clicking the button.

"STOP IT!" he shouted, but she dialed the number anyway, much to his complete and utter dismay.

"Bye Juicey. Go find that lucky bride." she scoffed. "Mabey you can catch her before they catch you."

...

Beetle fell to his knees in Lydia's apartment, frantically waving away thick green fog. "AARRRRRGGGGHHHH! YOU FUCKIN' BITCH!" he yelled, standing and stomping Lydia's floor as hard as he could, his rage dimming all of the lights in her apartment at once. Oh, fuck. Lydia. He needed her there. Like right fucking now.

"Uh...Heya, Deetz? You here?" he paced about, looking from room to room. "Great. Just peachy." he grunted, realizing she was still a no show. He wiped a hand over his face as he leaned against her wall, sliding down into the floor. It was at that very moment that the lights slightly dimmed in her apartment again, as a strange static began to fill the air. Holy shit. They were already looking for him - skimming over the land of the living. He could feel it.