This Life: A Novel by Maryann Reid Page B

nostril shut, he sniffed his way up one line of
coke. He paused when the line was gone to breathe gently out of his mouth, then
snorted hard to draw the powder all the way up into his nose.
    “Ahhhh.” He felt a mild
sensation of lightness, as if a breeze could carry him away. “Fuck yeah, this
is good stuff.”
    “Hey, I want some!”
    “Just wait your goddamn
turn. I pay for this stuff, I decide when you get some.” He transferred the
rolled hundred to his left nostril, pinched his right nostril shut, and
repeated the process with the other line.
    Now he felt like he was
floating, and only two things could make him feel even better. He put out a
hand for the vodka shot Gabby had poured for him and gulped it down in a single
swallow. Then he lay back and spread his legs. “Suck me.”
    “I want some coke
first.”
    “Well, you’re not
getting any until you suck my dick.”
    Gabby hesitated, and
Lang knew she was thinking of grabbing the baggie and prepping a couple of
lines for herself. He also knew she remembered what happened the last time she
defied him. She finally cupped him in one hand and slid his hardening prick
into her warm, wet mouth and suckled him.
    “Oh yeah. Take me,
cunt. Harder.”
    She did as he told her,
sucking him with more force. He reached down and grabbed fistfuls of her hair
and pulled as she sucked, until finally he arched his back and shot his jism
down her throat. She coughed a little, just once, but licked her lips and
swallowed as he’d taught her.
    “You’re getting pretty
good at that now,” he said, when he was no longer panting for breath.
    “Thanks.” After a few
seconds, the blonde actress asked, careful not to whine, “Please, can I have
some coke now?”
    “I guess you earned a
little reward.” He sat up and tipped a tiny bit more powder onto the mirror’s
surface and shaped a single line, of the same dimensions as each of the two he’d
snorted.
    “Just one line?”
    “I can dump it back in
the bag, or snort it myself.”
    “I’m sorry. Please.
Thank you. Lang, please…”
    As he handed her the
hundred, his iPhone rang. He glanced at the caller ID, and his heart raced.
Snatching up the phone and the baggie, he said, “I’ll be back in a few,” and
shut himself inside his study.
    “What’s up, Sal?” Lang
dropped into his favorite recliner, put up the footrest, and made himself
comfortable.
    “Blake just boarded a
flight back to Miami .”
    That made him sit
straight up, the act making him wince from the strain in his abs. “When does her
plane get in?”
    “About ten tonight.”
    “Well. I think we
should welcome the bitch home.” He felt a tingling excitement shiver up his
spine at the thought.
    “That isn’t really the
sort of thing Donato sent us here to do.”
    “Fuck Donato,” Lang
growled. “Listen, I want you and Lucio to follow her. You know what her car
looks like. She has a chauffeur, so this will be tough to pull off. But the
first chance you get, I want you to slash her tires.”
    “Won’t the driver put
up a fight?”
    “I doubt it. He’s an
old man. But if he gives you trouble, rough him up a little.”
    “Okay. But if Donato
hears about this—”
    “Don’t be a moron. Make
sure he doesn’t.” Lang clicked the call off and sat back, grinning up at the
ceiling.
    “Maybe there’s a god in
heaven after all. Here’s my chance to teach the bitch a lesson she’ll never
forget.”

 
    Chapter Nine
     
    March 28
    Tampa , Florida
     
    Henry Walden, Blake’s
chauffeur since a 9/11 back injury forced him to give up his career as a New
York firefighter, parked the rental car in the Poe Garage with half hour to
spare before the Florida All State Band concert would begin. Instead of his
usual suit and tie, he was dressed in jeans, sweater, and a jaunty beret. Blake
and Suki were likewise dressed to blend in: Suki in jeans and blouse, and Blake
in slacks and sweater.
    Suki didn’t wait for
Henry to open the door for her. As soon