Chapter 7
Eliot opened his eyes, and stared around. Through the windows he noticed the fading light and with a start, he looked at his watch. With a muffled exclamation, he sat up and threw back the covers, sliding his legs over the edge of the bed. As he did so, he felt a momentary twinge in his groin. He gasped and parted his robe, noticing that the end of his prick had a small dried globule of sperm on it which had obviously stuck to his leg. As he had moved, the motion had pulled his foreskin slightly, giving him the sharp sensation. He frowned, realizing that he had experienced an orgasm while he slept. Vaguely memory brought back the thought of Patricia, and he shrugged. He had probably had another wet dream about her. God, it would be good to see her once more, to hold her in his arms and enjoy sex with her again.
He stood up, and turned, noticing that Tiffany was sound asleep. He was about to awaken her when his eyes caught a spot on the sheet. He bent down, and saw several spots on the sheet. With a frown, he stared at Tiffany, and felt a shiver run through him as the suspicion struck: had she . . . had she done anything while he slept? For a moment he pondered, then dismissed the thought. No, he decided, it had been a wet dream. He felt if Tiffany had tried anything, he would have woken up.
"Tiffany."
Sleepily she stirred, opened her eyes and smiled up at him.
"You sleep good, sweetheart?"
She nodded. "Yes. You, too?"
"Yes, I just died. I didn't realize how tired I was. Anyway, it's late. We'd better hurry."
"Okay. I'll only take a minute."
She slid out of the bed and ran into her room. Eliot smiled to himself, and began dressing. Maybe he had been too harsh on her earlier; but then, he reasoned, it was not anything to be taken lightly. He was as much to blame as she had been; it must not ever happen again, and above all, Patricia must never know. He shivered at the thought, and went into the bathroom to splash water on his face and run his electric razor quickly over his chin.
Minutes later they were both ready and making their way downstairs. Tiffany's eyes were shining excitedly, and she felt deliriously happy. She knew for certain now that her father had not been aware of what had happened in the bed; she felt almost as if she had won a major victory. She had sucked his cock again, and if he knew . . . But then, he didn't know. She giggled happily and followed her father outside and into the car. As they drove out the driveway, she began singing, her strong, clear voice ringing out in the confines of the car. Eliot smiled at her.
"Not bad, not bad," he conceded. "Maybe you will do good in the group after all."
Backstage was complete bedlam. Rock musicians pushed past each other, frantically getting their instruments ready, checking last minute details. Theater staff and management rushed up and down the corridors, making sure all the performers who were scheduled had shown up and were aware of their place in the program. In the more secluded areas, young men and women crouched, surrounded by a pall of marijuana smoke, easing their nerves for the ordeal to come, that moment when they would step out in front of the thousands of fans in the auditorium and perform.
Eliot and Tiffany pulled up in the parking lot, thankful that the management had reserved a section for the performers' cars. They made their way quickly along the sidewalk to the stage door, and pushed their way through the groupies and interested observers who lingered in the alley, waiting for the arrival of the musicians they loved.
Inside, they made their way to the dressing room and found Axel and Sally, sitting quietly, talking. Axel looked up and grinned. "Hi, thought you weren't gonna make it," he said.
"I overslept," replied Eliot. "God, I was tired. I hope you two got some rest."
"We did," said Sally, her mouth twitching provocatively as she gave Axel a sly look.
"Okay, we're on just after intermission," said Eliot. "And I'm not going to stick around and bug you. There's nothing more I can say now. I think the rehearsal went well and if you keep the excitement high, you should be home free." He turned to the other members of the group who were sitting on the floor, their eyes closed. "You kids okay?" They all nodded. "Very well, Tiffany and I will go out front. We'll see you afterward. I'm meeting the men from the record company. If all goes well, we'll really have something to celebrate tonight. Break a leg, kids."
He took Tiffany's arm and guided her out the door and through the mass of bodies streaming down the corridor. They emerged into the chill air outside and walked around to the front of the auditorium.
"Madness," murmured Eliot. "Complete madness."
"Yes, but it's fun," giggled Tiffany. "Did you see some of those characters?"
"I know. It's a pity there're so many freaks among the music scene, but then, that's what seems to go today." Eliot smiled to himself. "It's a pity the kids don't appreciate really good music."
They moved toward the box office and Eliot received two tickets in a special reserved section. They passed through the doors and into the auditorium. Several other men and women were already seated. Eliot recognized several executives from major recording companies, and he felt a thrill of expectancy; the two he had been negotiating with were not there yet. He hoped they hadn't forgotten. Axel's future depended on that contract, and he felt positive that if all went well with the performance, the deal would be wrapped up. Not only would it be a very favorable deal for Axel financially, but it could plummet him into being one of the top names in the rock-music field. Only his feelings for Patricia at times overwhelmed everything else; but his children were his first consideration, which accounted for his twinges of apprehension over the present situation with Tiffany.
He had always been close to her, but he had never felt any sexual attraction. When she was younger, they had bathed together often; she had seen him naked. He had always been open with her on the subject of sex, but without any feelings toward her other than the usual fatherly affection. Her assault upon him, both physically and psychologically, had unnerved him and placed her in a fresh perspective.
He glanced at her face as she sat next to him, peering around the hall. She was beautiful, and there was a certain adult provocativeness in her features, almost a sensuality beyond her years. But then, he reasoned, kids were growing up so much quicker today, it was not really surprising that she had been overwhelmed by her burgeoning sexuality. If she had been fucking Axel, it was, in reality, not so great a step to consider sex with her father as well, particularly since they had always been so close.
He wondered how many other fathers had experienced what he had with Tiffany, whether other men of his age had weakened for a moment and experienced the undeniable thrills of fucking and sucking with such a young and appealing body. Had she reacted like a child, he might have felt some revulsion. There had been no trace of a little girl being led into devious paths by a licentious old man; she had been the aggressor, knowing exactly what was to be done, and doing it with undeniable enjoyment and total commitment to the pleasure of the moment. Had it been otherwise, he knew he would have rejected her advances. Looking back, he was dumfounded at his cooperation with her, at his complete compliance with something that was not only contrary to his accepted moral standards, but which he would never have contemplated. Why should he? Patricia satisfied him completely. He had no reason to even use sexual starvation as an excuse for his indiscretion.
"Daddy, look!"
His thoughts were interrupted by Tiffany's excited exclamation and her tug on his sleeve. He glanced over as the doors swung open and the audience began flooding in, hundreds of screaming teen-agers in outrageous clothes, long hair, exaggerated makeup and wild-eyed expressions of anticipation, racing down the aisles to claim those first rows of seats. In seconds the air resounded with shattering cries of enthusiasm, high-pitched squeals of delight.
Eliot shook his head and sighed. Despite his enthusiasm for his son's career, he did not relish the prospect of enduring the evening which he knew would result in a splitting headache and a reinforcement of his distaste for the shattering uproar that always characterized a rock concert. He looked at Tiffany's glowing face, sparkling with excitement, and vaguely the memory flitted through his mind of her mother, dancing with him at the Hollywood Palladium to the soothing sounds of Les Brown . . . so long ago, it seemed.
Axel sat, staring up at his father's smiling face and the approving glances of the two men he had just met.
"Well, Axel, you're everything your father promised," said Nate Johnson. "Don't you agree, Phil?"
Phil Spector bobbed his head up and down, causing his three chins to undulate over his collar, and his flabby face creased in a broad grin. "You betcha," he enthused. "You're really something." He turned to Eliot. "You've got one helluva kid here, Cartwright. I'd heard good things about him, but tonight-wow!"
Eliot beamed. "Well, then we're all set," he said. "Have you got the contracts with you?"
Johnson reached into his briefcase and withdrew some documents. "I always come prepared," he said. "I'd hate for Capitol or RCA to get in ahead of us. Here we are, just like we discussed. All it needs is the signatures."
He handed the contract over and Eliot read it through quickly; it incorporated all the paragraphs he had seen earlier, and he felt a glow of satisfaction to see his terms had been met. The contract was for Axel, and did not specify names of the others in the group, which meant that the replacement of Sally would pose no problems.
"Looks fine," he said. "Here, son, put your autograph on that."
With a wide grin, Axel signed the paper with a flourish.
"And now you, Eliot," said Spector. "Just to make it legal, huh?" He broke into a guffaw.
Eliot signed, and handed the paper back. "Well, I can't tell you how good I feel," he said. "When do you want to get started on Axel's first album?"
"Just as soon as he has enough material," replied Johnson. "But I'd say within the next months or two, if possible. I'd like to see him make a few more appearances like tonight. Maybe out in California, so we can work with him on the album. Anyway, we'll see you in L.A. next week, and we can iron out the details there." He took Axel's hand and shook it warmly. "Good to have you with us," he said sincerely. "I'm looking for big things now."
"You'll get 'em," replied Axel, beaming.
"Now you're talking," roared Spector, his large frame shaking. "I can see the million sales already. Come on, Nate, we got a plane to catch."
"Won't you stick around for the party?" asked Axel. "We're celebrating back at the hotel."
"Love to, but we have to be in New York in the morning. We'll make up for it when your album comes out. Then we'll really celebrate!" He turned to Eliot. "When are you planning to be back in L.A.? "
"Tomorrow," Eliot said. "We're catching the morning flight."
"Good. We'll be in touch. And Axel, again it was wonderful." He turned to the rest of the group, who had been standing back, watching the proceedings in silence. "And you're all wonderful, too. Every singer needs a good backup and you were great." The young men beamed in appreciation, and Sally smiled, but Eliot could tell that there was a steely glint behind her cheerful facade; he couldn't really blame her.
Johnson and Spector moved to the door and disappeared. Eliot turned to Axel and hugged him enthusiastically. "Oh, God, what a relief," he cried. "Jesus, am I thankful it's over." He broke away and grinned at the group. "And you were great, all of you. I've never heard you play so well."
"Okay, let's go back and get blasted," said Sally, taking Axel's arm. "I'm in the mood now."
There was a general murmuring in agreement and they all moved to the door and made their way to the parking lot.
Tiffany, who had been singularly silent, felt a bubbling excitement. Now that Axel's contract was set, she knew that it meant her own future as well. As soon as she was ready, she would be up there with her brother, sharing the spotlight, getting as much attention as he did; she knew there would be no doubt about it. Together they would scale the highest peaks of success, fame and fortune. She laughed happily. She pictured for a moment just she, Eliot and Axel, all together, enjoying each other in every way; she suddenly realized with a tremor that her fantasy did not include Patricia. No, Patricia would have to go; maybe she would anyway, whether she found out about what had happened or not.
"Into the car, sweetheart!" Eliot's cheerful voice cut into her thoughts. She smiled up at her father.
"I'm so thrilled," she whispered. "Isn't it fabulous?"
"Of course."
They piled in and Tiffany snuggled up to her father while Axel and Sally sat close together in the back seat. Axel was chattering excitedly about the concert, while Sally stared into his face adoringly, and with a certain sadness. Eliot caught their faces in the rear view mirror and felt a twinge of guilt. It really wasn't right; the girl deserved to stay with the group. She was good. And she and Axel did make a good-looking couple. It was a pity that Tiffany's actions had such far-reaching effects.
Despite his buoyant mood, Eliot still felt a tingle of apprehension at the inevitable confrontation with Patricia. He knew she would never buy the idea of Tiffany joining the group.
The car roared out of the parking lot and headed for the hotel, only several blocks away. As they drew up outside the brightly lit foyer, the doorman approached. Eliot slipped out and told him to hold the car; they would be needing it again in an hour or two. Tiffany frowned.
"Daddy, aren't we staying here tonight?"
"Of course not. We're going back to the house. Why pay for a room when we've got a place to stay?"
"But it's so far out there."
"So what? Come on, there's a party upstairs."
Tiffany bit her lip; she had secretly hoped they would stay overnight at the hotel, and she would possibly share a room with her father again, and that would mean another legitimate excuse for being close to him, close enough to-
"Come on, Tiffany!" Axel's voice rang out impatiently from the doorway. "You're off somewhere, that's for sure."
"Maybe she's been having a joint on the quiet," snickered Sally. "Which isn't such a bad idea. You got some grass?" she asked Axel quietly, and he nodded.
They moved inside and up to the third floor where a party was in progress in a large meeting room. The hosts were the organizers of the concert, and most of the performers were there. News of Axel's contract had leaked out and as he entered, there was a burst of applause. He flushed happily and waved at the crowd, and as some of the girls surged forward to get close to him, Tiffany felt a wave of sudden jealousy. She wanted so much to be recognized the same way, to have the adulation of the crowd, to have the boys all crowd around her, trying to date her, trying to . . . Impatiently she turned to Eliot and grabbed his arm.
"Let's get something to eat," she said quickly, "I'm starving."
"You're not the only one, sweetheart," he replied, patting her hand and grinning. "Come on, let's grab a table and some plates. I see the buffet over there."
A short while later, they were all seated around a table, wolfing down salad and spaghetti. Tiffany looked over at Axel and her heart beat with feeling for him; suddenly she had the desire to share her body with him again, to express her feelings in the best way she knew how, the way that she had only recently realized was the only way that really meant anything . . .
The music blared from the end of the room and couples were gyrating insanely to the throbbing beat. Eliot leaned back, his mind and body relaxed for the first time in weeks; a mild euphoria blunted his senses, and he lifted his glass to finish his sixth Scotch since arriving at the party.
He glanced over and saw Axel and Sally dancing, and beyond them, Tiffany swaying her body, caught up in the insistent rhythm, as she danced with one of the group members. His eyes lingered on her for a moment, noticing her slender, well-shaped legs, her lithe young body and her ecstatic face glowing with pleasure. She was a lovely child. Child? She was almost a young lady, really; the memory of his encounter with her flooded back, reminding him that she was more than just a child. He felt a passing twinge in his cock at the memory of the supreme satisfaction he had experienced with her; then he pushed the image from his mind and turned, signaling a waiter for another drink. He deserved to get bombed, he felt. This was truly a night for celebration, for tomorrow they were returning home to California. That would mean work once more, even more intensive work to get Axel's first album going and also arrange some more advantageous bookings for him. Also, there would be the matter of Tiffany . . . He looked over at her again as the music ended and she began walking back to the table, laughing merrily with the boy she had been dancing with. Yes, in another year or so, she would without a doubt be stunning.
"Oh, wow, this is really something!" Her voice rang out and she plumped into a chair. "Let's keep the party going all night."
Eliot raised his eyebrow and grinned at her. "There'll be other parties," he said, his voice slurring slightly. "And we have a plane to catch in the morning."
"So what? You can sleep on the plane."
"I can never sleep on a plane," he replied. "And I think it's about time we headed back to the house."
Axel approached and overheard his remark. "You're not driving back to Evanston, are you?" he demanded.
"Of course I am. And we're all going. You, me and Tiffany."
Sally sat down on the arm of his chair and ran her finger over Eliot's nose teasingly. "You're not taking him away tonight, Eliot?" she said in a sultry voice. "This'll be our last night. Come on, that's not very cool."
"We're going home," said Eliot doggedly. "And we'll go straight to the airport in the morning."
"Dad, I want to stay here with Sally tonight," Axel said. "I'll meet you and Tiff at the airport. Promise."
"Nope. We're-oops-" Eliot had lifted his glass and as it slid from his fingers, he tried vainly to save it. The drink went streaming over the table. Tiffany gave a loud giggle.
"Dad's bombed," she said gaily. "Which means he can't drive. So we stay here tonight. Okay, Daddy? Please."
Foolishly Eliot tried to mop up the liquid with a napkin, and felt an awkward flush creep over his features. He was drunk, and he knew it; and he hated the embarrassment.
"Dad, Tiff's right. You can't drive. Come on, get a room here. We'll all stay and then you can pick up our things before we go to the airport."
"Well, I suppose-" Eliot fumbled for words, conscious that Tiffany was giggling loudly, and Sally's eyes were on him, a slight sneer on her face. "Okay, I guess so."
"Goody!" Tiffany's face beamed with delight. "Come on, let's go get a room, then."
"Two rooms," said Eliot very slowly and distinctly. "One for you, one for me, young lady."
Sally exchanged a glance with Axel and giggled softly. "At least we know where you're sleeping," she murmured. "Come on, lover, let's go upstairs."
"Yeah. See you in the morning," Axel said, moving away.
"Hey, wait a minute." Eliot struggled to his feet. "Don't rush off. Or don't you want to be seen with your old man when he's had a few?"
"I'll take care of him," said Tiffany, taking her father's arm and guiding him across the floor toward the door.
"I can take care of myself," grunted Eliot, straightening his shoulders and taking a deep breath. "Okay, Axel, we'll meet you in the coffee shop around nine. Okay?"
Axel waved and disappeared with his arm around Sally. Eliot turned to Tiffany and pursed his lips. "Okay, little lady," he said. "Let's go get us a room."
"Oh, this is fun," said Tiffany, grabbing his hand and dragging him down the corridor to the elevators.
"It's been a wonderful evening," he murmured. "Everything's worked out so well." He frowned and stared down at her. "Tiffany, I don't want any nonsense tonight. You know what I mean?"
She opened her eyes wide and stared at him. "What do you mean, Daddy?"
You know quite well what I mean. I am getting a room for you, and another for myself. You will go to bed-" Eliot realized suddenly, almost humorously, that his voice was becoming sonorous and pedantic and considering the implication of his words, he had the insane desire to laugh out loud; but he controlled himself. "And I am going to bed. And tomorrow we are going back home. And I don't want another word out of you about what happened here. Understand?"
They stepped into the elevator and Tiffany pushed the button for the main floor. Her heart was pounding furiously, and her previous feeling of elation had slowly dissipated.
The doors opened and they stepped out into the lobby. With carefully measured steps, Eliot approached the reception desk and asked for two rooms, preferably close to Sally's. Tiffany stood, her back against the desk, staring out the front door into the street. She bit her lip and she realized that her encounter with her father was fast disappearing. No matter; there was still Axel. Maybe another threesome with Sally . . . why not? If she couldn't work something out with her father, her brother would do just as well.
She heard the jangle of keys and turned as Eliot picked up the two tags and moved back toward the elevators. Slowly, almost reluctantly, she followed him, her face betraying her sullen acceptance of the situation, but her mind was still racing, trying to ferret out some way to get herself into her father's room. She really wanted him; she felt her body responding just at the sight of his massive masculine body, those broad shoulders, that handsome face, and her memory made the form and shape of his prick into an erotic signpost to her private heaven . . .
In silence they rode up and made their way along the hall to their rooms.
"Here." Eliot unlocked the door, handed her the key and pointed inside. "In you go, and not a peep out of you till morning. Understand?"
She nodded, took the key and walked inside. She paused, looking at him, summoning all her reserves of innocent appeal. "I'm scared sleeping in here," she wailed, and he cut her short with an impatient gesture of his hand and a quick, unfeeling. "Shut up, Tiffany," and then he had moved out of her sight, down to his room next door. She heard the rattle of his key and then the slam. She pictured him moving unsteadily across the carpet and falling across the bed. She knew from past experience that when her father had too much to drink, he invariably fell asleep in his clothes. Maybe she should go in and ask if he wanted her to help undress him. No, that wouldn't do; he would be instantly suspicious. And in his mood he would show little patience with her persistence.
With a sigh, Tiffany closed her bedroom door and walked into the bathroom. She stared at herself in the mirror and then turned and took off her clothes, letting them drop carelessly to the floor. She stood naked in front of her reflection, noting with satisfaction how her breasts were beautifully rounded; not sagging like some girls she had seen, but rounded, with her nipples jutting out enticingly.
She pinched her nipples and felt her flesh firm beneath her fingers; a familiar glow began flooding her cunt, and her mind pictured herself beneath-beneath whom? Eliot? Axel? What did it matter? God, she wanted sex, and she wanted it badly.
At that moment she was interrupted by the harsh jangle of the telephone. With her heart almost bursting from her body, she ran to the instrument.
"Yes? Daddy?"
"No, dum-dum." It was Axel, and his voice sounded strangely muffled and vague. "Whatcha doing?"
"Axel-oh." She paused a moment. "I'm going to bed."
There was a giggle and then she heard Sally's voice.
"Hey, you little bitch, you wanna come in and fuck?"
Tiffany could scarcely believe her ears. "Do I?" she replied quickly.
"I thought you would, you cock-happy little cunt," came the brutal reply. "Your brother's here, all horny and with a hard-on and high and he wants to have all sorts of wickedness." There was a thump, and Tiffany heard a scuffle. Then Axel's voice, vague, but angry. "Tiffany, go to bed." The line went dead.
She frowned, and replaced the receiver. So they were smoking pot again; she knew Axel did, and he had told her once that it made him very sexy. So he was high, and he was-
With a second hesitation, Tiffany ran to the bathroom, hastily pulled on her clothes and, making sure she had her key, she left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. She glanced cautiously up and down the hall, then walked rapidly down to the end where she knew Sally's room was situated. She tapped on the panels, and then tried the handle. The door was locked; she tapped again, and in a few seconds, she heard the lock click back, and as the dark oak door swung open, she saw, stretched out on the bed, her brother, stark naked, with his prick jutting up in the air. Sally stood behind the door, grinning crazily. "Well, come in," she said blithely. "He's all ready and waiting. And," she added archly, "so am I."
Feeling almost as if she were dreaming, Tiffany walked into the room. Axel opened his eyes and stared up, focusing on her. He sat up quickly. "I told you-" he snapped, looking over at Sally, but she moved to his side in a flash, putting her lips over his and taking his prick in her fingers. Slowly she pushed him back and then crawled over him, straddling his body and moving her hips sensuously over his cock.
Tiffany stood, staring incredulously, conscious only of her own excitement as well as the acrid smell in the air. Then, galvanized into action by her mounting desire, she stripped off her clothes and jumped on the bed. Sally looked up at her and grinned.
"Okay, you wanna take over?" she murmured. "I'm ready for a rest and another joint."
Tiffany moved forward unhesitatingly, lowering her mouth on to the end of Axel's prick. As the smooth red head slid between her moist, eager lips, she felt her body react with incredible swiftness; her loins seemed to burst into flame and she felt a tingle spread through her. Her mind seemed to float, and she was aware only of the beautiful feeling of having a cock on her tongue once again, while her nostrils took in the musky odor of his crotch and her fingers began exploring the heavy sac. She heard Axel moan in appreciation and his hands came forward, clutching her head and pushing her down so that the end of his prick was rammed deep into her throat; he began thrusting in and out rapidly. She felt his shaft slide in between his skin, in and out, over her tongue, while with every movement her own body responded with tingles that focused on her moist and quivering cunt. She rubbed her legs together and felt her clitoris send shivers through her. Her entire concentration was on the beautiful body beneath her, the wonderful thick, hard cock that was throbbing between her lips, and the ultimate satisfaction of enclosing her brother's cock within her own flesh.
Axel was floating; his mind was euphoric, enhanced by the marijuana and soothed by the sensations bursting from every nerve. "Oh, yes, yes, suck it good," he muttered. "I'm almost there-" With a thrill, Tiffany realized that he could not have come yet; perhaps he and Sally had only been fooling around. They hadn't fucked yet; he was saving it for her, for Tiffany . . . oh, yes, she was going to make him come, and this time she would take all that lovely jism in, taste it all before gulping it down . . . like she had her father the night before-or was it that afternoon-or two days ago-or whenever-what did it matter? It was happening again and the thrill was chasing every other consideration from her consciousness.
She sucked harder, folding her lips over her teeth to make a firm round passage through which his thick jerking cock was sliding, faster and faster, and she could hear his moans becoming louder and his body quivered and strained. She could see his stomach muscles firm and rippling across his body, feel the tenseness in his hands as they guided her head up and down in rhythm to his own frantic drive toward his orgasm.
The world was forgotten; the room had faded into oblivion; she was only aware of her own sensations, being pushed higher and higher; her sweat mingling with that of her brother as their bodies thrashed in the final moments of their mutual pleasure; his sighs and moans and the quivering of his cockflesh beneath her touch.
"Oh, God, Tiffany . . . now-now-harder, harder!"
She lifted her one hand from his balls and enclosed the bottom of his shaft tightly in her fingers, feeling the tube flex and spurt and then her mouth was filled with his cum as he shot great big gobs of his searing jism. She felt the salty taste and then her own body convulsed as her clitoris seemed to send an electric shock wave through her cunt. Her tits tingled with ecstasy and her mind left her body. She felt she was on a gently rolling sea of sensation, afloat on his body while her own filled with his cum and that glorious feeling of incredible satisfaction.
"Oh, wow, but that was the greatest.. . " Axel's voice trailed off and then Tiffany felt him start, almost at the same moment a strange click echoed from beside the bed. Before she could raise off his softening prick, Tiffany felt herself thrown backward as Axel got up violently. He almost jumped off the bed, his eyes blazing with sudden anger, his hand reaching out to jerk the phone from Sally's hand. He jammed it back in the cradle and then Tiffany saw the look of vile hate on Sally's face. Her lips curled off her teeth and she clawed forward with her nails, trying to get at Axel's face, but he grabbed her, and threw her down on the floor. "You bastard," she screamed. "You no-good selfish son-of-a-bitch!"
"Shut up," Axel said loudly.
"What. . . what. . . ? " Tiffany's voice trailed off in uncertainty and confusion.
Axel turned to her sharply. "She was going to call Dad," he shouted, turning back to Sally. "Weren't you?"
Sally's eyes flashed. "You're fucking right," she snapped. "I'll fix your ass but good. And yours, too, you little whore," she added, almost spitting at Tiffany. "Replacing me, are you? I got news for you."
"Oh, no." Tiffany sat up on the bed and shook her head slowly.
"Oh, yes," continued Sally. "You didn't think I would . . . " She turned to Axel, and then, as quickly as her anger appeared, it dissolved in her tears and she leaned forward, sobbing bitterly, rocking herself back and forth on her heels, her body shaking uncontrollably. Axel looked at Tiffany; his face fell and he shrugged his shoulders helplessly.
"Sally . . . "
"Don't say anything." The words were wrung from her lips like a desperate cry. "Just don't say one fucking thing." Slowly her sobs subsided, and she lifted her face to him. "I'm sorry, Axel. I'm just a jealous bitch, that's all." She sniffed and reached for a Kleenex. She blew her nose noisily and then looked up at him, trying to force a smile. "I guess that's what happens when you get really hung up on someone."
Axel turned away from her and looked at Tiffany.
"Go back to your room, Tiff," he said quietly. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"It is tomorrow," Tiffany said, feeling more than deflated after the unexpected turn of events.
"Just go to bed," Axel said, his voice suddenly sharp as he lifted Sally to her feet, put his arm around her and gently kissed her cheek.
Meekly Tiffany slid off the bed, the ecstatic thrill not even lingering in her mind; she dressed and went to the door, pausing a moment to look back at her brother, lying in bed, his arm around Sally, who lay still, her head on his shoulder.
"You sure you don't want me to stay?" Their eyes met and no answer was necessary. With a shrug, Tiffany turned and left the room. Sally kissed Axel quickly and he reached over to put out the light.
"I love you," she whispered. "Don't," he replied gruffly.