Carl Van Marcus
The girlfriend_s revenge Volume Two
CHAPTER ONE
The sea wind rushed through the eaves of the large warehouse, sending draughts of humid air through the cracks in the windows and up the stairs into the rooms occupied by Cash and Ellen, the driver, Sylvia, and the German Shepherd.
Cash sat nervously silent. After his face had broken into a grin of relief at seeing Ellen captive, he had said simply, "Hi, Sylvia," out of the corner of his mouth and then gruffly but not cruelly grasped Ellen's elbow and led her back upstairs.
It was obvious that he was uncomfortable around the well-dressed middle aged man, who – in spite of the dimness – had put on a pair of sun glasses. The man's clothes, suave cleanliness, and unsmiling face made him look more menacing than any of the convicts. Feeling drained of hope and lifeless, Ellen sat wearily down at the small table, her shoulders slumped, and felt the return of sensation to her gravel-shredded bare feet. The pain seemed to radiate upward to her bruised and battered vagina; it throbbed in protest with each beat of her heart.
Sylvia stood with her hands on her hips and gazed around at the soiled mattresses and the litter on the floor. "Jeez, what a fucking dump," she said loudly and to no one in particular.
The driver had disdainfully pulled out a chair opposite Ellen, brushed crumbs off it, and sat down, holding his umbrella between his knee; the attache case he had been carrying was placed on the floor by his left foot. Ellen noted that he continued to wear his hat, raincoat, and driving gloves. He waited quietly, like a sleeping coiled snake, as if he had all the time in the world.
Ellen was sitting there, trying not to weep, when she saw the German Shepherd, Rex, suddenly perk his long ears forward. He rose, his tail wagging, and went to the head of the stairs. Then he barked loudly and began noisily scrambling down toward the landing.
The driver spun rapidly, his hand blurred as it came out of the raincoat pocket clutching a snub-nosed revolver. Ellen gasped as both Sylvia and Cash froze.
A second later, they all relaxed when Billy silently padded into the room followed by the dog. His hooded eyes took in Ellen first and, although he didn't speak to her, she sensed a surprisingly quiet gentleness in his movements which made her feel slightly more at ease.
His hand dropped to Rex's ears and he scratched the dog affectionately as he nodded toward the man who had been driving the car.
It was then that Sylvia, tall, dark-haired, and sensual-looking in spite of the fact that she was probably still a teenager, stood up with a look of obvious displeasure on her face. "Whatsa matter, Billy, don't you have any kisses for me, or have ya been saving them up for your Goddamn dog," she asked coarsely. When he didn't answer immediately, her eyes narrowed nastily, "Or maybe you been up so long that you've gotten used to those penitentiary fairies I hear so much about. Or maybe it's this blonde bitch here," she said, tossing her head contemptuously toward Ellen.