had been his last at Club 44. Some of the guys had stayed to have a drink with him when his shift was done–he didn’t like any of them, they were weak and blind; they had no drive, no fire. Not like him. He was about to become a multi-millionaire, richer beyond his wildest dreams.
The time had come. Vegas was calling. Laura had been waiting long enough.
Lester opened the fridge and surveyed its contents. A chunk of greyish meat on a cracked plate; a bit of cheese hardened on one side; a sticky jar of jelly and three cans of beer. He reached in for one, popped it open and closed the door. On its front was a calendar with thick red crosses slashed through the days. Sixty to go until the movie premiere–that was all.
He was getting close, closer than he’d ever been. So close he could smell her fear.
In the bedroom he pulled out a canvas bag and began packing for the first leg of his journey. He wasn’t particular about it; there would be no need for order where he was going. Efficiency, that was all. Combat pants, a couple of sweaters, a pair of gloves.
He showered, dried with a cloth that stank of milk, then ran a fine-toothed comb through his thin, wet hair, beneath which it was possible to see the pale pink of his scalp. His decision to catch an overnight coach was a deliberate one. It was easier to move under cover of darkness. He’d learned that a long time ago.
Lester dressed in brown slacks and a corduroy jacket. He tied his shoelaces tightly. Sinking to his knees, he bent to retrieve a box from under the bed. Inside was a camel-coloured envelope containing a stack of fifties he had been saving. He tucked half the stash in the inside pocket of his jacket and the other half slotted down one side of his bag. Once he’d dealt with Lana and her murderer boyfriend he’d never have to worry about money again. He’d reveal their crime and their world would end … just like the voice had said.
He slid his hand into the box a final time, removed something cold and heavy, then secured the lid before replacing it, empty, under the bed.
The most important thing of all.
The gun.
Los Angeles
Every time Jimmy turned over, Chloe could feel his erection pressing into the small of her back. He seemed to be permanently ready to roll, even after the epic session they’d enjoyed last night. The size of it now, like a living thing jammed between them, made it impossible to ignore.
She decided to wake him, manoeuvring her naked body on to his sleeping form. Jimmy groaned and opened his eyes, sticky with sleep.
‘Hey, lover,’ she purred, sliding him in.
They fucked frantically, Chloe riding him like there was no tomorrow. It was the first flush of an affair: they wanted it hard and fast, both with a fever to burn. She came quickly; he soon after.
‘You’re insatiable,’ she gasped, her head on his chest. His long fingers stroked her hair.
‘Only for you.’ He brought her face close and kissed her lips.
Chloe rolled over, stretching like a cat. ‘I’m free all morning,’ she said. ‘What do you want to do?’
Jimmy made a face. ‘We could stay in bed all day.’
She hit him. ‘Don’t be silly,’ she teased, sitting up. To be honest, he’d left her a little sore. It had been a crazy week–since the day of the nanny’s interruption they’d scarcely been out of each other’s beds.
Thank God it hadn’t been Kate. Chloe trembled at the thought. She had seen the panic in Jimmy’s eyes when the door had gone–he’d come too close too many times. They’d managed to dress, just about, before Su-Su had walked in. From their flushed faces and rumpled hair it had been obvious what was going on. Jimmy had assured her that the nanny was far too afraid of her employers to ever say anything to his wife; he’d be surprised if she could even articulate it in English. Chloe wasn’t entirely convinced, but figured that if Jimmy could relax in that knowledge then so could she.
‘A compromise.’ Jimmy pretended to mull it over. ‘We’ll stay in bed all morning.’ He grabbed her waist and pulled her down. She felt his renewed hardness push against her stomach.
‘Come on, Jimmy,’ she said, giving him a shove, ‘don’t you ever let up?’
‘Why should I?’
Pushing him again, she slid out of bed. ‘Because I need to do some exercise. Too much time lying around in bed.’ She unhooked a flannel robe off the back of the door and slipped it round her shoulders.
‘Don’t do that,’ said Jimmy.
‘Do what?’
‘It’s Kate’s.’ He leaned back on one elbow. ‘Just a bit weird, that’s all.’
‘Sorry,’ she said, but she didn’t take it off. Jimmy was a cheat, a cocksman–if he hadn’t any qualms about taking strange women into his marital bed then he couldn’t get arsy about his wife’s dressing gown. Instead Chloe padded into the bathroom and turned the shower on.
‘Besides, you’ve been getting enough exercise,’ called Jimmy, with a wicked grin.
‘You know what I mean.’
‘Not really. Don’t know about you, love, but I’m knackered.’
‘You’re never knackered, Jimmy,’ she said, letting the robe drop tantalisingly to the floor. She stepped in, the glass around her steaming up.
‘Try me!’ he yelled as the pounding water took over.
In the silver rack was a selection of shampoo bottles, obviously Kate’s, and Chloe took pleasure in using the products. It was curious to be the other woman, but not altogether alien–it felt too much like retribution for that. She knew what it was like to be on the other side, and she’d earned her right to try it a different way.
In the end, they spent the morning by the infinity pool. Sweet-scented palms sweltered beneath an azure sky, the sugary smell of coconut tanning lotion thick in the air. Chloe swam fifty lengths with ruthless efficiency, Jimmy watching avidly from a sun lounger, a thin joint hanging out the side of his mouth.
She pulled herself on to the side, wrung out her long dark hair and arranged a pink towel beneath her. Relaxing back, she showed her tits to the sun–and to Jimmy, who, predictably, came to sit down next to her.
He passed her the joint, running a thumb lazily over her left nipple. ‘We should get married,’ he mused.
Chloe’s eyes flew open. ‘Are you serious?’
‘I’m a comic. What do you think?’
She reached for her Ray-Bans and put them on. ‘I think you’re a nob,’ she said, tilting her head back. Though it had been an intense week–for the first time in her life Chloe understood why people might get married on impulse, just like that after a few days, because when you were having sex like she and Jimmy were having sex, the rest of the
