Jameson Hotel - the Dark Suite Series: Parts One, Two & Three (8 page)

“It was good.” I pat
her leg and get my ass dressed.

“Where are you
going?”

“I forgot I have
work to do.”

“Crap. That was
incredible for a second, but now I just feel used.”

“Don’t. I didn’t use
you. Seriously. I told you, it was nice, but I thought of some things that need
to be done and they can’t wait until tomorrow.”

“The first thing you
thought about after sex was work? That sucks. No,
you
suck.”

“Sorry.” I grab my
gun, kiss her cheek, and walk out.

“Good night!” she
yells, bitingly.

This woman has
mangled my brain.

I enter my suite and
slump onto the sofa. Shit. I did exactly what I wanted, so why am I so goddamn
ashamed? I’m coming unhinged over making love?

A
woman
who owns your heart is the
devil, and the only way to kill the devil is to fuck it in the ass, cut its
throat and bury it deep.

That’s what my
father used to say.

I’m surprised my
mother’s still alive after dealing with his bullshit. And my sister and I are
poles apart whenever we discuss our childhood memories of him. He was nice to
her, but hated me with a passion. Maybe she blocked it all out.

Asinine fucker.

I kick the coffee
table and an echoing crash fills the room. It’s dismal in here and I need a
shot to calm my nerves.

No, forget the
liquor tonight. I need some weed. Luckily, I’ve got a few joints left in my
bedroom and getting high might help me figure out what the fuck’s going on in
my head.

I smoke when I’m
under stress and need to unwind, and usually it’s a solitary experience. I
don’t enjoy people yacking in my ear when I’m stoned.

I take a black metal
case from my dresser and turn on my favorite music to smoke to,
In the Pines
,
a folk song from the 1800s. It’s something that brings me peace.

After a long drag I
close my eyes, sensing a massaging hand codling my brain. The pot soothes my
muscles and alleviates my anxiety. I grin, literally, a dopey grin; then take
another hit before heading to my bedroom deck to marvel at the mountain pines.

Hell, this woman’s
turning me into a clod, forcing me into a world that I’m completely unschooled
in. And to hell if my father didn’t also turn me into a clod, forcing me into
his world that I was completely unschooled in. Shit. I’m just too marred to
escape either one.

In the pines, in the pines

Where the sun never shines

I shivered the whole night through

The melancholy voice
lingers in the brisk night, seeping between the trees and down to the empty
pool. The lights from the inhabited hotel rooms ignite the back property where
the ash trees exhibit a few remaining leaves on their branches. It’s all rather
sensational, especially the smell of the decaying leaves.

I love my property.
Leaving the overpopulated city of Vegas and living in isolation was a dream I
had for years, long before I ever got a divorce. I hated the smell of that
dusty, polluted desert city. My father loved it. He was addicted to the
twenty-four hour rush, his mansion full of people and his bed full of whores...
bright lights, loud music, gambling, booze, and sex.

I tired of it after
a decade. The money I was bringing in was incredible, yet I had very little
time to enjoy any of it. Not the way I wanted to. The parties were demanding
and I felt suffocated by the company. I was overwhelmed by the stress to keep
Jameson Industries number one and I hated being compared to my father by all
the other porn company kings. The competition was fierce. Plus, my dad had the
Rosen twins,
Dayne
and
Doron
,
and their father, David Rosen, working by his side. They were a team of four. I
had no one.

But that’s my own
damn fault. I wanted all the power. I couldn’t stand having a partner. Still
can’t. I need complete control of everything and everyone. I’d rather be a big
fish in a little pond, then...

Where will you
go

I’m going where the cold wind blows

“What the...?” I
whisper as a tiny flashing light bounces along the railing next to my hand then
travels up my arm. I know its source; it’s coming from the opposite side of my
hotel, the dark suite. This isn’t the first time the figure is standing outside
on the deck off the master bedroom, using the light to say hello. I point to go
back inside but the fucker won’t obey.

I tap my watch and
bring up the walkie-talkie App we use to communicate. “Get inside, now.”
There’s no reply, only a continual light on my body. I look down at it and
shake my head. “Get the fuck inside so I know you’re safe,” I speak into my
watch again. “I’m not up for games tonight or Morse code with the flashlights.
Maybe another time.”

The light vanishes,
only to be replaced by another. This time, a small red light coming from the
woods that gleams when it strikes my watch then quickly races up my stomach to
my chest... it’s a laser sight.

“Duck!” The voice
from the other suite calls out. But I’m already down, just a split second
before a shot from the pines thuds into my exterior wall.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
I crawl inside and pull the gun from my holster. “Fuck!”

“Get the fuck
inside!” I yell into my watch.

Recess is over. How
the hell did that bastard,
Dayne
, get a gun? He’s not
doing this shit to me. I’m coming for him. No one takes a shot at Mark Jameson
and lives.

I run down my stairs
and out my front door, slowing to a hurried pace in the hall and setting my gun
back in its holster, not wanting to raise any suspicions from the guests.

“Mr. Jameson?” The
voice of one of my security guards comes through my watch.

“It’s okay,” I
answer.

“Did you hear that?”

“Let the guests know
it’s okay,” I repeat. “It was a kid setting off a firecracker out back.”

I’m so not amused,
Dayne
. If you had shot at the figure holding the flashlight
from the dark suite instead of me... fuck, I can’t even go there in my head.

I turn a corner and
pound twice on the dark suite’s door, waiting impatiently. Two knocks means an
emergency and this door better open.

“What?” I hear a
voice through the steel.

“What the fuck do
you mean, what? Open the
freakin
’ door,” I say as
calmly and discreetly as possible. At least I think I did. Everything sounds
twenty times louder because I’m stoned. Plus my eyes are wavy and my heart’s
racing. I’m feeling paranoid. “Did you see what
Dayne
did? That’s like shooting a man in the back. It was a cheap shot.” I kick the
door in an unreasonable state. I’m not chill and I know it won’t be opened when
I’m like this. No one wants to deal with a pissed off madman.

“I heard the shot.
Do you think he’s coming inside?”

“Keep this suite
dark at all times and lock the back door. No one, you hear me, no one should be
coming in or out on that deck. Listen to me and you’ll be fine.”

“I’m worried.”

“Don’t, the fucker
will be dead soon.”

There’s a faint
sigh. “I don’t want to hear that you’re a murderer.”

“Fine, then a
Jameson will be dead soon.”

“Jesus, Mark.”

“One or the other. I
can’t be a savior without being a killer.” I look around the corner and down
the quiet hall where two guests are walking at a distance. “Open the door.”

“Is it necessary?”

“I’m itching to slap
someone upside the head. There shouldn’t be anyone on that back deck playing
around with a flashlight while
Dayne’s
in the area!”

“You know you’d get your
ass kicked as soon as you raised your hand. The flashlight got your attention
and probably saved your life. Just be gracious and don’t think about slapping
anyone.”

I laugh and shake my
head. “Give me the code so I can open your door in case there’s another
emergency.”

“Fuck no. You said
it was safer for you
not
to have it.
No!”

“Just a test,” I
whisper. “Remember to keep the lights out and the doors and windows shut. Don’t
do anything stupid, either, like ordering take-out. You should have plenty of food.”
I look down the hall again and see it’s empty. “It shouldn’t take much longer,”
I mumble. “If I could figure out where he’s staying it’d already be over and
done with.”

“Who’s the woman?”

“What woman?”

“The one by the pool
who you looked heartbroken over.”

“No one.”

“Bullshit.”

“This door-side
conversation has already lasted too long.”

“You trust her?”

“What?”

“Mark. Do. You.
Trust. Her? It’s a simple question.”

“I don’t have any
reason not to.”

“I’ve never heard
you say such an asinine thing. You know full well those are the ones who’ll put
a knife in your back. ‘I don’t have any reason not to?’ Seriously? Why aren’t
you thinking straight?”

“Fuck off.”

“Yep, fuck off and
goodnight.”

I exhale and linger
back to the opposite end of the hotel. Everything seems to be in need of repair
when I’m stoned. And I mean my life
and
this hotel. It’s not something I notice unless I leave the peaceful solitude
and dim lights of my suite.

I squint at the
traditional damask patterned carpet that could use replacing, and the walls in
need of a fresh coat of paint. I’m sure in the morning it’ll all look brand
spanking new, but right now I feel like I’m in a decrepit hell hole. I think I
need more weed after a gunshot and a dazed discussion, but I also know I’m
still high and shouldn’t over do it when
Dayne’s
around.

Fuck, I can’t
believe he took a shot from that distance. He’s more of the type to shoot a man
in the face at point blank range. What gives?

I stop at Julia’s
room and knock, still apprehensive of her control, but unable to stand the fact
that she’s in this room alone, not after what just happened.

“Don’t expect to
fuck me and just take off again,” she says before the door is even open. “Next
time you leave I’ll follow you out and knee you in the nuts.”

I smile, pulling her
from her room, lifting her over my shoulder, and kidnapping her for the night.

“I want you in my
place while I work, not to fuck, but so I can keep an eye on you. I warned you
I’d get possessive once you arrived. Now no more fucking tonight. You can sleep
while I track someone down on my laptop.”

“Make love to, not
fuck” she says playfully while kicking her feet on the way to my bedroom.
“Admit it, you made love to me.”

“Fine.” I fling her
onto the bed, lock my bedroom door that leads to the deck, and close my blinds.
“You’re the lucky winner of a mentally-ill, controlling cocksucker. Now stay in
that bed and don’t move your ass unless I tell you it’s okay. That includes
getting up to use the bathroom.”

My bed is positioned
away from the windows and door so I’m not too worried about a second shot, and
considering the height of the suite, a bullet would never make this angle
anyway, not unless
Dayne
climbed forty feet into one
of those pines. But, I’m still being overly cautious. The bastard caught me in
the perfect spot, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s been out there all day,
waiting for that moment.

I’m going to figure
out where the fuck he’s hiding out.

“Have you ever done
that before? Sucked cock?” She smiles, in a playful mood.

“That’s not a
conversation I want to get into when I’m about to work. Shut your eyes and try
to get some sleep.”

“Wow. So you have?”

“I didn’t say that,”
I reply, sitting in a leather chair with my computer in my lap and my feet on
the bed.

“You didn’t say no.
When? Recently?”

“Nope. Many years
ago.”

“Was it someone
special?” She lies on her stomach with her hands under her chin and her legs
waving in the air like a teenage girl.

“You’re not tired,
are you?”

“No.” She rolls over
and stares at the ceiling.

“You’re fidgety.”

“Can you use the
computer and talk to me at the same time? And why does it smell like dope in
here? Did you take off to get high and not invite me along? What’s that all
about? You slug.”

“Will you calm the
fuck down if I give you some? It’s like you ate a bag of sugar after I left.”

“I don’t need any,
I’m high on my orgasm.” She rolls back over and kicks her feet once more. “Now
I know why you have that dumbass grin on your face... so tell me about the
cock. How old were you?
Are you bi
? Is that why you
enjoy that cock mask you own?”