private jet. Besides, Bain can oversee him during the flight." There was silence on the line. Now she interjected a wheedling tone to her voice. "Will you think about it, and let me know when you call later?"
"I guess so, but this EGA thing is becoming a pain in the ass."
Pilar ignored his grumblings. "I'll talk to you later darling, and if you decide to spend some time down here, I promise you, I'll make it worth your while."
SECTION FIVE (Chapters 41 – 50)
TIFFANY – 41
With her hand in the pocket of a man's pair of three hundred-dollar jeans, Tiffany had to think fast. Tank's expression was as hard as his twenty-two inch biceps.
"I'm sick," she said. "I was looking for drugs," she said, grateful she'd thought to make up a cover story in case she got caught.
A flicker of uncertainty flashed through his eyes. "Why didn't you just ask? Drejohn's got his own fuckin' pharmacy here. The girls get whatever they want, when they want, as long as they don't over amp."
Tiffany shrugged. "No one told me."
"Whatta ya need?"
"Vicodin," she replied, picking the first drug that came to mind while removing her hand from the pants. She held up her hands to show him they were empty, then picked up the jeans and feigned smoothing the denim so she could place them back on the hook in the cubby. In reality, she was trying to figure a way to get the cell phone she'd felt out of the pants without Tank seeing it.
Tank motioned to her. "Shit, that stuff is passed out here like candy. I'll hook you up." A predatory expression washed across Tank's face like a klieg light illuminating a Hollywood night. "But it will cost you. Drejohn would beat you silly if he found out you were going through people's clothes."
Tiffany paused and thought. She forced a confidence she didn't feel into her voice. "I'm thinking Drejohn would like it even less if he knew you were making a play for his newest girl," she said, flinging the jeans containing the phone over her arm.
Tank's chest expanded by at least two inches, and his hands curled into fists. His tanned face flushed with a glow of anger. He stepped into the cabana and closed the door quietly behind him.
Tiffany's heart raced and she consciously told herself to calm down and breathe. There was no way she was going to get past this Goliath. She needed a miracle.
Keeping her eyes locked on his, she began to back slowly…deeper into the room. A small smile stirred Tank's irate expression.
"Has Drejohn even done you yet?" He moved slowly toward her as she continued to back away. "He usually waits a day or two before he sticks it to you." The undersized grin turned into a leering smirk. "Looks like I'm gonna get me some high-classed pussy before the boss does. And you won't tell him a thing or I'm gonna tell him you're a thieving whore."
"And you think he'll believe you?"
"I'll say one thing about you, Princess, you've got some gigantic balls. You see how it works here," he said easily. "Of course he'll believe me. You're nothing more to him than a piece of ass." He tilted his head. "I'll admit, you're a fine piece of ass, but no way is Drejohn gonna take your word over mine."
Tiffany's back bumped into the door leading to the men's toilet area and showers.
Tank's grin swelled. "You got nowhere to go, sweetheart."
With a swift move, Tiffany turned and jerked open the door at her back. Pulling the barrier shut, she almost fainted with relief when she saw a deadbolt and was able to slip the bolt into place nanoseconds before Tank started to yank on the door handle.
"You fuckin' bitch, you'd better open this door right now! I'm tellin' you I'm gonna rearrange your face so your own mama won't recognize it!"
Tiffany knew it wouldn't take long for her pursuer to find a way into her haven. She had to find a way out. Her elation at locking Tank out vanished when she realized she was secured in a room with no windows and no other door. As his pounding persisted, looking up, she realized this room was fitted with skylights…just like the outer room. She looked for something to stand on that would get her to the height she needed. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to climb to the top of the two toilet stalls and balance enough to break out the barrier between her and freedom.
Suddenly Tiffany was aware the hammering at the door had stopped. Just as quick she heard a metallic bang as if the door and its knob and lock were being struck with something heavy. She was running out of time. Think, Tiffany. Think. You've got to get a plan!
Then it hit her. The phone! Feeling through the jeans, she grabbed the phone and locked herself in one of the toilet compartments. She knew it would do no good to call 9-1-1; she had no idea where she was. Instead, with nimble fingers, she searched through the gadget and found the number she wanted.
She could hear the wood splintering around the door lock. Tank was almost through!
"Yo, Buster, wat up?"
"Drejohn! It's Tiffany…Princess from last night. I'm locked in the pool house. Tank's after me! Help me, please!" She made sure the phone picked up the sound of the door being broken down, then she slammed the device closed. It didn't hurt that Tank was still bellowing like a Brahma bull as he whacked the door again, causing the walls of the cabana to shake.
Remembering something she'd once seen in a movie, she stripped the bikini bottoms off from under the robe and used her teeth to gnaw at the fabric behind the side seam. Clenching her jaw, she held the fabric in her mouth and ripped the garment apart. She flung the garment to the floor. Knowing she had about a minute at best, she yanked the front of the robe open and freed one of her breasts from the triangle of fabric covering it.
She heard Tank pushing and pulling at the battered door trying to get the deadbolt to break from the hasp. Additional voices outside the door were screaming at Tank and asking him what was wrong. Tiffany could only imagine what he was going to do to her once he broke through.
She grabbed her exposed breast and roughly twisted it to the point of tears filling her eyes. Then she dragged her fingers diagonally across her chest leaving four distinct lines running from her collarbone to under her breast. After that, she gripped her inner thighs in the same rough manner as her breast, leaving more pink markings on her skin that she knew would eventually bruise.
Taking a deep breath, she punched herself in the face. The first time she was stunned. The second time she tasted blood. She knew she had to be careful. With her blood condition, if she hurt herself too much, she might not be able to stop the flow of blood. Feeling an oozing coming from a small cut inside her mouth, she made a dam with her tongue and once there was enough blood, she released it out of the corner of her mouth. Hopefully, the laceration would stop bleeding on its own.
Tiffany heard excited voices along with Tank's as the doorframe finally gave way and the door sprang open. Flattening herself against the wall behind the toilet, she wasn't injured when Tank kicked the stall door to smithereens, causing the top hinge to break and the door to hang crookedly. There was the briefest moment of hesitation when Tank saw her. The crowd that had gathered from the pool area eyed her damaged face.
"He tried to rape me!"
Tank lunged toward her, but three other guys, built like defensive linemen, were able to drag him back from the confined space.
"Lemme go! She's lying! I never laid a hand on her. She was going through your clothes in here."
Tiffany started crying, and it was real. She was scared to death the crowd of guys and girls would see through her plan.
Turning so they could see the open robe, she hated the peep show she was giving to everyone in the room, but it was necessary. "Yeah and I suppose this is all my imagination," she said, exposing her self-inflicted injuries. Looking past the crowd into a mirror, she inwardly cringed at the damage she'd done to herself, and then took her tears to an intentional sob for effect.
Making eye contact with the dozen or so onlookers, she continued, "I came in to change. Tank followed me. He said that I was high-classed pussy and he was gonna get him some before Drejohn had the chanc
e. He said that if I told anyone, he'd say I was a stealing whore and tell Drejohn that I'd come on to him."
An uncomfortable shifting in the crowd of the others in the room gave Tiffany hope her story was working. Then from the back of the group a question was asked.
"So tell me my brotha, is what she says true?"
Drejohn was back.
Like the Red Sea, the crowd parted as Drejohn made his way into the pool house. The three behemoths released their grip from Tank's massive arms.
"I said… is what she says true?"
"Drejohn, you gotta believe me. I never touched her." Tank turned an accusatory gaze to Tiffany. "I caught her in here going through people's clothes. She said she was lookin' for drugs, but I think she was searching for a phone."
Tiffany began to panic as Drejohn shot a look of distrust at her. She needed to go on the offensive.
"That's bullshit and you know it!" She hoped the unexpected bad language and her injuries would convince Drejohn she was telling the truth. She stepped out of the stall toward him.
"I was in the ladies changing area. Tank followed me and began to talk about what a fi…fine piece of ass I was. He said it wasn't fair that Drejohn always got to do the new girls first, and this was one time he was gonna get him some twenty-four carat pussy." Tiffany knew Drejohn didn't see her as a girl who would use such words, so she hoped her story sounded convincing.
"I tried to get by him