Satan's Breath

Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2

Los Angeles

She felt a hand sneaking up her thigh!

Long, icy fingers of fear coiled around her neck! She couldn’t breathe! And then a dark night, a burst of red, a dripping knife sent her back to the little tarpaper shack she’d grown up in. She was re-living thousands of summer nights, blaring railroad whistles, feeling the flaming hot wind of Satan’s Breath burning her skin while blowing through the valley. And then she saw his face hanging above her in the shadows. His leering, sweaty face, his grunts and groans and the feel of his ugly c**k thrusting himself in and out—

And then all at once, she was back in the present.

She went wild, pushing and shoving. “Get your slimy hands off me!” Blaze shouted while scratching to get up from the couch. When she finally got free of the man’s clutches, she stood glaring at him. “I hate you and your kind. Do you understand? I hate the way you look at me, and I cringe when you touch me! I’d rather be f****d by any bastard on the street than by you!”

“Blaze, I—” He started toward her.

“No! No!” she screamed, backing away from him in fright. “If you ever touch me again, I…I swear I’ll kill you so dead! But you’ll n…never get the chance, you b…bastard, because I quit! Do you hear that? I quit, so ram that up your ass and smoke it!”

Blaze ran out, jumped into her little red MG and zoomed recklessly onto the freeway. She needed the wind in her face, so she traveled mile upon mile, weaving in and out of heavy traffic until she quit shaking. After a while, she pulled up into her own drive and went inside to call her agent.

“Entertainment by Sanders,” the young voice said cheerfully.

“Yeah, let me talk to Scott, Melanie. This is Blaze Alexander.” Blaze paced restlessly as she waited for Scott to answer.

“Hello, sweetie, what’s up?”

“Hi, Scott, I just quit my job.”

The handsome, gray-haired man lunged forward in his chair. “What? Why?”

“Barry Schorr, that’s why. I’ve played my last scene with him on that friggin’ couch. I walked out, and I don’t intend to go back.”

“But, Blaze, he’s been doing that since the beginning.”

“No, Scott, he hasn’t been doing it, he’s been trying to do it. There’s a big difference. Today, he had me pinned to the couch with his fuckin’ hand up my skirt.”

“But you always seemed to be able to handle him before. Why now—?”

“I’m tired of it, Scott. I don’t need this harassment. For two cents, I’d sue the whole damned station.”

“Well, get that idea out of your head. You know what they’d tell you.”

“Yeah, I know.” She ruefully pulled a cigarette out of a pack and lit it with a trembling hand. “With the kind of show I do, it’s the price I pay, I guess.” Blowing smoke, she put her hand up to her head, feeling a headache coming on. “Get me something, Scott. Something far away from here. Anything.”

“Well, you can write your own ticket, babe, where do you want to go? New Orleans? Philadelphia? Personally, I think you should give Vegas a chance. Bright lights, all that money. They’re your kind of people, Blaze. How about it? Should I call them?”

“Vegas is out. How about Savannah?” Blaze dropped down on the couch.

Scott almost strangled on his coffee. “Savannah? Why in God’s name would you want to go to Savannah?”

“For one thing, it’s clear across the country and light years away from this jerk. God, I’m so tired of big city egos. Besides,” she began, still rubbing her temples, “in all my years in Georgia, I’ve never been to Savannah.”

“So what? That’s no reason to go back.”

“I read somewhere that it’s the most beautiful city in America.” After taking a deep draw on her cigarette, she blew the smoke out noisily and frowned curiously. “Did you know that?”

“No, and I don’t care how beautiful it is, Blaze. It’s not for you.”

“Well, I’ve made up my mind, Scott. Get me Savannah. I’m counting on you.”

“It’s Georgia, Blaze. Remember? Dirt roads? Jumping jive joints? I’d advise you to think about this, like for the next fifty years. Hell, Blaze, this is the prudish South we’re talkin’ about. With the kind of show you put on, you’re liable to shock those poor people spitless.”

Blaze smiled. “I hate to burst your bubble, Scott, but s*x is everywhere, even down south. It’s taken over the world, my friend, or didn’t you know that?”

“Very funny.”

“Hey, how’s Louise, big guy? By the way, how many kids do you have now?”

“She’s fine,” Scott answered, “and the last time I counted, there were three.”

Blaze snickered. “Scott, how could you not know about s*x with three kids?”

“Oh, you’re hilarious. If you decide to give up broadcasting, maybe I can book you as a stand-up comedienne.”

Blaze laughed. “Call me back when you find something. I’ll be packing.”