Part 18 (1/2)

The side of my face was on fire and I felt blood running down my chin. The gun slid along my scalp again, this time ending up at the very back of my head.

”The cops are on their way,” I said. ”They know I'd tracked you down. Do you really want another murder on your sheet?”

I was throwing out marshmallows here, I know. But I was scared to death of dying. I needed to somehow convince him that not killing me was the right way to go.

”It don't f.u.c.kin' matter now,” Gra.s.so said. He s.h.i.+fted and I sensed that he was moving the gun to his left hand, which begged the question, what did he need his right hand for?

”Come on, let's go!” the woman called from the kitchen.

”Shut up!” Gra.s.so yelled into my ear. And then I felt something so hideous I froze.

With his free hand, Gra.s.so tried to pull down my pants.

”Mr. Nosy b.i.t.c.h following me around, chasing me, just who the f.u.c.k do you think you are?”

”I-”

”Shut up, punk!”

”You've got to be kidding me!” the woman in the kitchen called.

”Nothin' better than a virgin punk a.s.s,” Gra.s.so said and as he yanked on my pants I grabbed one of his fingers and bent it back until I felt the bone break, which it did with a sickening little crunch.

Gra.s.so screamed in my ear and then he curled his leg around mine and pushed me forward. He pinned my arms so that I smashed face first into the hardwood floor. I felt something give in my face and a searing pain ricocheted around inside my skull. Blood was in my mouth.

I felt air on my skin and knew with a panic that it was my a.s.s. Gra.s.so had my pants down.

”f.u.c.king b.i.t.c.h,” he breathed into my ear. His breath was hot and fast. I didn't know if it still smelled like wine, I figured my nose was broken.

I heard the sound of Gra.s.so's zipper, then the rustle of fabric as he lifted his s.h.i.+rt to pull down his pants.

A sound came from the front of the house that had a tinny quality to it. It sounded suspiciously similar to a police siren. We all heard it at the same time and the woman in the kitchen said, ”s.h.i.+t!”

”Motherf.u.c.ker!” Gra.s.so said. Doors slammed outside and heavy footsteps pounded up the front walk. I heard a lot of shouting but everything seemed fuzzy and out of focus. I tried to move, tried to roll, but nothing happened. I had a funny tingling sensation down my spine.

”You f.u.c.k,” the woman said.

I heard Gra.s.so run to the front door and shout.

”s.h.i.+t,” the woman said, but her voice was further away now. Had she left?

”Just let me-” Gra.s.so started to say and then there was a loud cras.h.i.+ng sound followed by two shots close together. Boom-boom.

Gra.s.so garbled something and I heard him drop to the floor just as the walls around me exploded and the gun boomed. A cacophony of sounds greeted my ears. More crashes, shouts, tires screeching, the back door slamming shut, more heavy footsteps.

I rolled as best I could. A stabbing pain raced up my left leg and then the back door banged open.

A newer tinny sound from the front porch was going strong. A cop's radio. There were running footsteps as I tried to get my bearings and then someone behind me said, ”Freeze.” What a stupid thing to say, I thought.

I desperately wanted to pull my pants up but at this point, it wasn't worth the risk. Besides, the cops had arrived, probably because a neighbor had seen my dramatic entrance. Compared to the fear of being raped and killed, having a Grosse Pointe cop see my bare f.a.n.n.y was no big deal.

I lay still, my heart beating, the pain in my body building to a crescendo.

And then I heard a voice.

”Not one of your finer moments,” my sister said.

Thirty-four.

Later, we were standing outside the house on Barrington. I'd given my official statement, been given a quick once-over by the paramedics, and was now ready to receive the wrath of my sibling. Ellen pointed at my leg, which had gotten a basic bandage from Grosse Pointe's finest emergency medical response team. It was a giant Band-Aid.

”So were you shot?” she said.

I shook my head. ”It was a sliver from the floor.”

”A sliver,” she said.

I could tell she was on the verge of either laughing at me or slapping me silly.

”Yeah, it was a sliver,” I said. ”A big one.”

”Only you could be in the middle of a shooting and come out of it with a sliver.”

”A big sliver.”

”Whatever,” she said.

Gra.s.so had already been bagged and tagged. The crime scene technicians were done and gone. Ellen turned to me. ”So why don't you tell me how you ended up presenting your a.s.s to Gra.s.so.”

”It was some fine detective work, if I say so myself,” I said.

”Luring an ex-con with your sweet b.u.t.t? Isn't that entrapment?”

”Very funny,” I said.

”You know, sodomy is illegal in Michigan. I should take you in.”

”Nothing happened.”

”Not what I hear,” she said. ”I heard you were caught in flagrante delicto. At least, that's what the boys down at the station are probably saying.”

”Would you please shut up?”