Barb needed information. Without eyes and ears on the gathering of militia members, she couldn’t plot her next move. But how to get that intel? She needed a spy. She kicked herself for not having been more proactive about securing one. Then she remembered Danita’s high school boyfriend. She quickly got the girl on the line.
“How’s it going?” she said.
“I’ve mostly put things in the house back where they were before Nazi Carl messed them up,” said Danita.
“That’s my bad for not anticipating Jackery would move so quickly. I’ve calmed that threat for the moment. But the reason I’m calling you is that I need to know what’s going on now with Carl and his fellow fascists. Can you reach out to your old boyfriend in the sheriff’s department?”
“I’ll call him right now.”
#
Danita called Toby. After they exchanged hellos, she asked him if he could see the militias. He said he was standing outside the sheriff’s station, looking at them now. He described what he’d seen so far, then followed up with a play-by-play of Jackery’s arrival and his big speech.
“He’s got these assholes all revved up,” said Toby when it was all done. “If you can, you really need to stay out of their way.”
“Isn’t there anything you guys can do?” said Danita.
“We’re totally outnumbered. Plus Jackery has the sheriff in his pocket somehow. He does whatever the man tells him to. But you should hear what the sheriff says about him in private.”
#
Barb waited impatiently for Danita to call her back. When she did, the news she got was worth the wait. Danita repeated everything she’d learned from Toby, including the sheriff’s resentment of Jackery.
“That’s interesting,” said Barb. “Maybe we can use that down the road.”
Now that she had a better sense of what was going on, Barb needed to put that knowledge to good use. Her previous actions had threatened to drive a wedge between Jackery and the militias until Jackery had mended it—at a cost that no doubt hit the tightfisted bastard where it hurt. And she was encouraged by knowing that a wedge could be driven. If she’d done it once, she could do it again.
She was lost in thought when she got a message from her Shit Club buddy. Someone had tracked down the escort Jackery was seeing. They even had a contact number for her. Barb dialed it right away.
“Hello?” said a young woman’s voice.
“Is this Mae Lin?”
“Who is this?”
“Just cal me Ellie,” said Barb. “I understand we have an acquaintance in common.”
“Who’s that?”
“Peter Jackery.”
“Is he checking up on me?” said Mae Lin. “I haven’t said anything to anyone. I promise.”
“I’m not calling for him,” said Barb. “In fact, I wouldn’t personally have anything to do with him.”
This was an exploratory probe on Barb’s part. She needed to gauge how this Mae Lin felt about Jackery. Something in the tone of her voice when responding to Barb’s mention of his name gave Barb the impression she was less than enthralled. Following her intuition, she decided to go just a little further in her probe.
“I hear that you’re quite smitten with him,” she said.
Mae Lin responded with a snort. “Who told you that?”
“Someone who’s seen the two of you together.”
“You’re not a reporter, are you?” said Mae Lin.
“Heavens, no,” said Barb. “I’m just one in a long line of people who’ve been burned by Peter Jackery.”
“Burned? How?”
Barb had to decide whether to make up a story to appeal to Mae Lin or to tell her the truth. She had no problem making up stories. They were a trusted part of her toolkit. But something told her she would get further with this girl if she offered her the truth—or at least part of it.
“A close friend of mine lives in a small town named Dixon.”
“Oh God,” said Mae Lin. “I thought that was just a fantasy Peter was spinning.”
“I’m afraid it’s all too real.”
They were both silent for a long moment before Mae Lin spoke.
“Those poor people.”
“I take it you’re not a fan of Jackery’s libertarian philosophy.”
“That self-serving bullshit? I abhor everything he stands for.”
“And yet you spend time with him.”
“I have student loans. It’s a job. No worse than most, and it pays better than anything else I could hope to get.”
“I suppose you must be wondering why I’m calling you now,” said Barb. “I’m reaching out because my friend and her family need help, and I believe you can give it to them.”
“I’m sorry about your friend, but I don’t see how I can help.”
“That depends on when you’re scheduled to see him next,” said Barb.
“He wants to meet tonight,” said Mae Lin. “He just called an hour ago.”
“In that case…”
#
Jackery was back in his room. He had met with the arrogant bastards who called themselves “commanders.” He’d handed them each a check, shook their hands, patted them on the back, and pretended to be their best friend. Now he wanted nothing so much as a long, hot shower. He wanted it so badly he would have braved the scummy, germ-infested cubicle in the attached bathroom. Thank God he was already planning to spend the night back at his own place.
He’d quelled the incipient rebellion, but at a cost that rankled him. When he got his hands on Barb, he’d take every dollar out of the man’s hide. But that was for another day. His focus now was on tonight. He checked the time. The helicopter would be here in about half an hour. Good. He couldn’t wait to leave this shithole.
He’d given the commanders a story to explain his trip out. Some bullshit about needing to consult with fellow libertarians. They’d swallowed it whole. He’d made a special effort to impress upon them the need to pass the story on to their men so they wouldn’t shoot at his copter. Still, he wouldn’t relax totally until he was safely in the air and on his way.
#
The girl who went by “Mae Lin” dried off after her shower. She couldn’t get the conversation she’d had with the woman named Ellie out of her mind. She wondered if she was doing the right thing by agreeing to help her. Normally, she wouldn’t be so quick to trust someone she hadn’t even met. But her time with Peter had filled her with such a backlog of disgust and self-loathing that the opportunity to take action against him was practically irresistible.
He was not the first man to fetishize her heritage, but no one else had been so casual and unapologetic about it. That he assumed she felt the same only made it worse. What Ellie had asked of her wasn’t that much. She could easily do it, and afterwards, she’d just find it a little easier to look in the mirror.
Whatever happened, she decided tonight would be the last she spent with Peter. It would sting to give up the monthly stipend. In truth, it would sting a lot. But how much was her self-respect worth to her? She reflected on how easy and gradual her descent had been into her current state of debasement. It had all started with her registering on a “Sugar Daddy” website on a drunken dare from her best friend.
“You’re a theater major, Cathy,” her friend had said, using her real name. “Treat it like playing a part.”
Together they’d created a fictional biography of someone named “Mae Lin,” a shy girl who was looking for an older man to take her under his wing and teach her about the world. They’d laid it on so thick that neither of them thought anyone would take it at face value.
The next morning, Cathy woke with a hangover and a horror at what she’d done. She went to the website to take down the ridiculous Mae Lin profile. But there was already a response. And when she saw how much money the potential sugar daddy was offering, she couldn’t ignore it.
At first, she was blinded by his kind manner and the way he lavished attention and money—lots of money—on her. And in the bedroom, he had proved equally kind and giving. But gradually, as they spent more time together, his true personality came out. It appeared in brief moments here and there that were easy to ignore at first. And when they couldn’t be ignored, she inhabited the character of Mae Lin as if it were a particularly challenging acting exercise.
It wasn’t until he’d tied her up in bed and called her horrible things like “yellow whore” and “slant-eyed cunt” that she grasped the true price of the Faustian bargain she’d struck. She should have left. She’d told herself that again and again. But the money and the glamour had kept her hooked.
No longer. One more evening and she would be out. In fact, she’d tell Peter she was leaving before he tried to take her to bed. It would infuriate him, but it would give her back one small piece of her dignity—especially if it helped Ellie and her friends fight him.
#
When Jackery’s jet landed, he climbed down, followed closely by his pair of bodyguards. At the bottom of the jetway, rather than follow him to his waiting town car, they headed for the parking lot.
“Where the hell are you going?” said Jackery.
“Our contract was for one trip,” said one of them.
“I’ll re-up it.”
“Not interested,” said the other.
“Why the fuck not?”
“We pass for Caucasian when we need to,” said the first one.
“But our mother was Filipina,” said the second.
“Our ancestors spent centuries in the white man’s idea of paradise.”
“You can have it.”
#
The first thing Jackery did upon arrival at his mansion was take a long, hot shower. He washed off all traces of Dixon as well as the memory of the loser bodyguards. Who the fuck needed them? He certainly wasn’t going to entrust his life to someone of such low character that they had to lie about the purity of their blood. Besides, his handling of the militia idiots proved he had no need of outside protection. He could take care of himself.
Later on, he and Mae Lin had enjoyed a gourmet dinner prepared in person by the chef of Jackery’s favorite restaurant. And now they were sitting on the sofa while Mae Lin dug her fingers into the knots in his neck and shoulders.
“You’re so tense, Peter,” she said. “What’s the matter?”
“You wouldn’t believe the yahoos I had to deal with today,” he said. “I’m all for the Second Amendment, but why do the people who make the biggest fuss about it turn out to be such losers? It’s like they need a semi-automatic to compensate for the insignificance of their lives—or their dicks.”
“Must you deal with them? Can’t you just send them away?”
“Not yet. The losers are useful tools. They don’t even know they’re being used.”
“I don’t want to talk about them tonight,” he said.
“Okay,” she said, continuing to work on his knots.
“I will say I’m proud of how I got things under control.”
“Tell me.”
“The crowd was this close to rioting. Even the sheriff was shaking in his boots.”
“But not you.”
“Hell, no. You should have seen me. I went right to the middle of the crowd and grabbed the mic. Within five fucking minutes, they were eating out of my hand.”
“How’d you do that?”
“They’re simple creatures,” he said. “Boys really. Probably grew up without fathers. I just fed them the words they’ve always wanted to hear from a man: ‘I’m proud of you, son.’ Once I did that, the rest of it was easy.”
“For you, Peter,” she said, “because you’re so smart.”
“How about we move this party to the bedroom?” he said. When she didn’t immediately respond, he said, “What’s the matter?”
“It breaks my heart,” she said softly, “but I can’t continue seeing you.”
“What do you mean?”
“My mother found out what I was doing. She made me promise to stop. She said that in taking money for love, I was disrespecting the ancestors. And they would curse the family with bad luck.”
“You don’t believe that, do you?”
Of course, she didn’t. This was a complete fiction she’d created to fit the Asian stereotypes Peter held.
“It doesn’t matter what I believe,” she said. “In my culture, I must respect my elders.”
“My God, Mae Lin,” he said. “This is the 21st-century.”
“I’m sorry, Peter.”
“Can’t you at least stay the night?”
“That would not be right. I gave my word.”
She stood and gathered her things. In a state of disbelief, he watched her walk toward the front door. Every step she took felt like a slap in the face, and with each, he grew more and more angry.
“You little bitch.” He jumped up from the couch. “You think you can bleed me and then just walk away?”
“I’m sorry, Peter.”
“No, you’re not. But I can make you.”
His own words surprised him, but as soon as they came out of his mouth, he realized he meant them. As for Mae Lin, she froze, still plenty far from the door. The expression of terror on her face excited him.
“We’re all alone,” he said. “I can do whatever I want to you, and it will be my word against yours. The word of a yellow whore.”
“Please, Peter,” she said. “Don’t.”
He covered the ground between them in a few long strides. He was reaching for her when suddenly his face was on fire. He screamed, falling to his knees and clawing at his burning eyes.
“Make another move,” she said in a voice not at all like the subservient Mae Lin he was used to, “and I’ll mace you again.”
“You bitch!” he choked out.
“I’m going now,” she said. “And don’t even think about trying to find me. Or I’ll play this for the police.”
The next thing he knew, his own voice came back at him: “We’re all alone, and I can do whatever I want to you, and it will be my word against yours.”
The door slammed, and she was gone. He bellowed out his rage and frustration. He swore to himself that someday, somehow, she would pay for this.