Chapter 9
It was hard for Roger to keep from laughing as he felt himself being loaded into the back seat of a large taxi. Yes, he was going to be delivered right to Samantha's hotel room or wherever she was going and then the woman would get the surprise of her evil, mother-fucking life.
In fact, he got into such a good mood, that Roger felt his anger evaporating a little at a time. What the hell, he was out of danger and there was nothing they could do to him now. That story about the stolen jewelry would never have stood up in court even if he hadn't escaped.
It was hot and uncomfortable in the trunk but Roger kept his spirits up. The taxi stopped and he felt himself being wheeled on a dolly into a hotel room. He then heard the bellhop leaving without a tip and figured it was just about time for him to make his grand appearance.
Roger jumped out of the trunk and saw that Samantha was at the telephone, talking with her back to him, asking his good friend Sam to come into the room. Walking noiselessly, Roger shook out his cramped limbs and hid behind the door to the bathroom, finding it almost impossible not to laugh.
Sam walked into the room and Roger could hold his surprise back no longer. He walked into the middle of the room and stood behind their backs, coughing ever so quietly, waiting patiently to be noticed. Suddenly Sam turned around, a wary look on his lined oily overweight face.
"Surprise, kids," Roger announced with what he would later describe as his best shit-eating grin. "I liked you folks so much that I just couldn't stand to leave you."
"You little bastard," Sam yelled. "I'll make you sorry for this. You should have stayed away when you escaped. I'm afraid it's all over for you, my friend."
So saying, the fat man took a run at Roger, lowering his head like a bull and charging straight forward. Roger tried to avoid the charge but was only half-successful, catching most of the blow on his shoulders. Nonetheless, his momentum carried him all the way to the far wall of the room.
He picked himself up with feline quickness and then prepared to do battle with his enemy. Sam was back on his feet and this time his big fists were clenched. Fat and out of condition as he was, Sam was not a man to be underestimated. Roger knew that it would not be easy to stop him.
But Roger had been in situations like that before. He clenched his own fists and stood ready, his legs spread wide, his elbows high. Sam came charging at him again only to run full force into a stiff left jab, followed by another and then a quick straight right to the jaw.
Sam recovered quickly and managed to dig his right fist into Roger's stomach. It was a stomach-turning blow but the young man danced out of the way, flicking his left and trying to regain his breath. He could see that
Samantha was about to join in the fray and figured he better get things over with before he got into real trouble.
He ran directly at Sam and hit him again and again, dividing his blows evenly between head and midsection. The fat man stood up to the first few punches but then his breath began to come short as a thin stream of blood trickled out of the corner of his thick sensual lips.
Roger continued to press his advantage, staying away from Samantha. Finally he managed to floor the man and then grabbed Samantha by the elbow, throwing her heavy bulk onto the bed. He had won the fight and now his two adversaries were completely at the young man's mercy.
"I ought to beat the shit out of the two of you," he began, speaking breathlessly after the fracas. "But I have a feeling to leave you alone and let you tear each other to pieces. Check out your girlfriend's jewelry, Sam, I have a sneaking suspicion she's taking you for a ride."
So saying, he straightened his clothing and walked out of the hotel room a free man. It had been an incredible sequence of events but now he was on his own, with just enough money in his pockets to catch a bus to Phoenix. He could only hope that Nan would not be too difficult to locate.
Roger walked out of the hotel, having no idea which way he was headed. He discovered after asking a few questions that he was right near the highway heading east for Arizona. As long as that was the case, there was no reason to wait for a bus. Hitchhiking would be far easier and perhaps that way the journey would be more pleasant and interesting.
Ten minutes later, Roger was standing on the highway, waiting for his first ride. He figured that it would take him all day and most of the night to get as far as Phoenix but that was all right. After all, two days earlier he had thought he would never see Nan again.
Rides were few and far between at first but it was a warm spring afternoon and Roger refused to be put in a bad mood by his luck. No, he was a free young man with a few dollars in his pocket and he was going to see the woman he loved. Things could not possibly be better for him.
Eventually Roger got a ride with a truck driver who took him across Death Valley and then to the state line. It was the first time in his life that Roger had seen deserts and canyons and he felt that he liked that part of the country and that it would be a nice place to settle down in.
It was late afternoon now but the rides were coming along far better than he had expected.
He was getting short hauls with private cars and everybody seemed to want to go out of his way to buy him dinner or give him a job or do the young man some kind of personal favor.
And then Roger found himself halfway across New Mexico, still traveling on Route 66. It was getting hot and he had no water with him but that didn't bother the young man for a minute. No, he felt strong and young and vibrant, ready to stand up to the rigors of the inhuman desert.
Eventually a car stopped for Roger, one with an Arizona license plate. It was getting dark and he figured that his luck was good. It was hard to hitchhike at night but maybe this woman would take him most of the way to Phoenix. In any case, he was bound to get there sometime the following day.
"Come in and take a seat," the woman told him. "I can see that you're not from around here. Two more hours in the sun and you'd look like a gila monster."
"Yeah, it's hot all right," Roger concurred. "But I don't care. I've never seen this part of the world before and it looks pretty beautiful to me."
Roger took a good look at the woman and was surprised that she had stopped to pick him up. The woman introduced herself as Juanita
Barnes and said that she ran a nightclub in Tucson, a small city about a hundred miles south of Phoenix, the very place where Nan was supposed to be staying.
On further questioning, she admitted that the club was really a gambling place. That made Roger laugh and the woman began to question him suspiciously. Roger felt that he was with somebody he could trust and was soon dying to give Juanita the details of his recent complex adventures.
Roger took another good look at Juanita and decided that she was as attractive as she was intelligent and perceptive. Juanita was dark and swarthy and strong-looking, maybe thirty or thirty-five years old. She had a big serviceable body and the darkest pair of eyes he had ever seen, the kind of woman who could make love to a man or stick a knife into his back.
He began to tell Juanita his adventures and soon the good-natured woman was laughing like hell, telling Roger that he was the most incredible pisser she had ever had the pleasure to meet. She concluded by saying that she could use a man like Roger to be a croupier in her establishment.
That gave Roger something to think about. He was tired of petty crime and dime ante hustling and this seemed to be the only thing he was suited for. A job in Juanita's place was bound to be at least semi-legitimate, which was far better than anything else he could see for himself.
It was pitch black now but Juanita kept careening the car across the desert highway, going fast and not seeming to look at the road for minutes at a time. There wasn't much traffic out but Roger was still unnerved. Unfortunately, he was in no position to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"I'm really sleepy," he hinted. "Were you planning to stop for the night or drive straight through?"
"I was going through," Juanita interrupted with a big smile on her tanned face. "But I might consider passing a few hours in a motel with the right man."
Roger grinned to himself, thinking that this big half breed woman certainly knew what she was talking about. Yes, she had read him immediately but that was all right since she was obviously in the same frame of mind. Well, they might have one hell of a good time together that night.
Junaita pulled the car off the highway and soon they were pulling into the parking lot of a small quiet motel. Roger found that he was far more tired than he had anticipated. It was as if he was suddenly paying the price of a full restless week of unrelenting excitement and activity.
Roger helped Juanita with her luggage and then threw his useless overcoat over his arm. They checked into the place quickly, disturbing the desk clerk for only a moment. Two minutes later they were in the room and Roger felt that he had to sit down and take things easy for a while.
"Here have a drink," Juanita told him. "I don't know how you can still be awake after all this. Here, this is tequila. You'll have to get used to it around these parts."
"I could drink anything now," Roger answered readily. As long as it has plenty of alcohol."
He took the bottle from Juanita and then took a healthy swallow, regretting his haste almost immediately. The tequila burned a hole through his body and then burnt its way up again. His eyes started to tear and then his stomach began doing acrobatics. The drink had woke him all right but now he was feeling weaker and more wobbly then ever.
A few more belts set things right for the young man and then he looked at Juanita, wondering if the older woman was interested in him sexually. She was good-looking and well-built but there was something masculine about her, Roger wondered if it would be out of line to try to seduce her, whether the woman would take it in the right spirit.
Juanita, however, was reading the young man all the way. She had been driving for a good twelve hours and wanted nothing more than a quick roll in the hay before falling asleep. She gave Roger a gap-toothed grin and then began to undress before the young man, not saying a word to him.
Roger began to take off his own clothing, keeping his eyes riveted to Juanita's body. The woman was even better looking in the nude, tall and strong and heavy breasted. Yes, she would be quite a change from the sort of woman he was used to, another chapter in his sexual education.
They lay down on the bed together and Roger wasted no time making his first move. Despite the tequila he had imbibed, the young man was feeling strong and virile. Juanita had turned him on and she would give him a good workout before he was ready to look up the woman he loved.
He took Juanita in his arms and began to caress the woman's body, thrilled with her powerful musculature. Yes, Juanita was dark and sultry and altogether desirable. There was no worry in his mind. He knew that he would be virile with her, stand up to any of her demands.
He ran his hands down the woman's body and then up again to her swelling breasts. Juanita refused to be completely passive, reaching down for Roger's prick, perfectly delighted with what she found. It had been a long time since she had had a lover as well hung as the young gambler.
Roger felt his prick swelling up almost immediately. Juanita was far from gentle with him but that was all for the best, considering how bushed he was. Yes, he was getting hard and stiff already and soon he would be able to show the woman his virile sexual prowess.
How could it be avoided!