Chapter 13: All Good Things...

I picked Nikki up after school on Friday, the same as usual. We drove to my place, the same as usual. Nikki got dolled up in her high-priced-hooker gear, the same as usual. On the drive to the airport she gave me her usual scrumptious blowjob, and, as usual, I came in her mouth like the crashing waters of the Red Sea.

Everything seemed normal. Nikki had forgiven me for sending her to work with Tim the previous Saturday while I'd stayed at home and pumped semen into every fresh hole in her little friend Megan's virgin body. The only thing different was that I'd had a bitch of a time lining up johns for tonight. I had wanted Nikki to do another gangbang, and then to take the money and run so we could get home in plenty of time for her nine p.m. curfew without risking life and limb on the freeway. But amazingly I couldn't find three johns who were interested. I wasn't sure whether we were hitting some bad timing with Nikki's clients or whether they had gotten spooked for some reason. They all seemed tight-lipped over the phone.

Finally I managed to scare up two johns for the night, one for six o'clock and another for seven. The six o'clock john was a new guy. He'd told me over the phone that he was a self-employed contractor from Toledo, referred to us by Hank, Nikki's lawyer john from Cleveland. The guy seemed okay over the blower, but I arranged to meet him at 5:30 in the hotel bar anyway. I always interviewed Nikki's new johns as a crude test to make sure she wasn't exposed to some communicable disease or any rough stuff.

When Nikki and I arrived at the hotel bar, the john was already there. He had a yellow hanky in the breast pocket of his sport coat, as I had instructed. Nikki went to the ladies' room to freshen up, and I sat down and talked to him. He was big and stocky, but he seemed all right—just a regular joe.

The guy went up to his room, and Nikki came out of the washroom. She met me at our usual table, and I told her the guy was kosher. At 5:50 she got up from the table and went to meet him.

While waiting for Nikki I ordered a Margarita from Dusty. After our tryst the previous Friday I figured she'd be all over me, but she seemed cool, distant. I put it off to the guilt she was probably feeling for fucking somebody so soon after splitting with her boyfriend. For all I knew the two of them might have reconciled.

Surveying the room, I noticed some new faces. A couple of the newbies seemed to be having problems with their ears, poking them with their fingers. As six-thirty approached, I expected Nikki back any minute.

Suddenly guns popped out everywhere, all pointed at me.

"Down on your stomach!" one of the new faces screamed, waving his pistol in my face. I dropped onto my belly and three apes crashed down on me. Two of them jerked my hands behind my back and handcuffed me while the third sat on my legs and patted me down. They yanked me up, and one of them said, "Sam Lindsey, you're under arrest for pandering." As they dragged me outside to an unmarked police car, he read me my rights. The back door of the car opened, a big hand pushed my head down, and I was thrown onto the seat, face-first. As I sat up, the car started in motion and sped away.

I'd been set up good.

Hank, the little-prick lawyer from Cleveland, had gotten nabbed on a money-laundering scheme and started singing about everyone and everything he knew to save his scrawny butt. At the same time, Nikki's parents had become suspicious about the startling change that had come over their daughter the past few months, and they'd hired a PI to follow her. While the private dick figured out early what we were up to, he hadn't been able to get any hard evidence until the previous Saturday afternoon when Nikki and I had our hot foursome with Megan and Tim. The PI photographed me fucking Nikki and Megan and took the pictures to Nikki's parents. They were so shocked and upset that they immediately went to the police. The cops put two and two together and figured out that Nikki and I were the same whore and pimp who were working the airport hotel—the ones Hank had ratted out.

Once I was in custody the charges mounted: pandering, contributing to the delinquency of a minor, numerous counts of fraud for the phony invoicing scheme I'd developed, two counts of statutory rape. After the cops searched my home and found a mountain of cocaine, they wanted to charge me with possession with intent to traffic, but my attorney managed to convince the DA's office that it was all for my own personal use (I guess I'd been a little out of control lately), and they reduced the charge to simple possession. As for the two counts of statutory rape, it could have been worse. They could have charged me for each time I'd had sex with Nikki, but luckily Nikki wasn't talking. The cops also hadn't twigged onto the fact that I had boffed my little fifteen-year-old neighbor Kimmy as well. As I said, it could have been worse—much worse.

When my attorney told me I was staring at a hundred years if the DA went to the max, I wanted to curl up and die. My lawyer was a bit of a weasel, but he had a good rapport with the DA's office, and he was famous for cooking up deals and pleading things out. Bargain Bob, they called him. I knew there was no point in going to trial; they had me dead to rights. So after doing six months of dead time, we managed to boil everything down to twelve years. I would be eligible for parole in less than ten, and by then I would only be fifty. Not too bad, everything considered.

While sitting in jail waiting for my lawyer to strike a plea, I received a visit from Nikki. I was under a court order not to have contact with either of my victims, but Nikki dressed up in very mature-looking clothes and put on her big-girl make-up. She looked at least twenty-five, and the jail was on the lookout for little thirteen- and fourteen-year-olds.

Nikki picked up the phone in the visiting room and looked at me through the Plexiglas, a tortured expression on her face. She began to cry.

"It'll be okay, baby," I said, pressing my finger to the glass.

She told me her six o'clock john had been a cop and he had busted her in the hotel room, but not before sticking his dick in every hole in her body.