The maid, I thought as Dolly searched behind us for any sign of blue lights.
“No matter what you do, never leave any witnesses alive,” Hyde insisted before I left.
Chapel nodded in agreement. “No matter if they are innocent, kill them quick. Leave no eyes open that have seen your face.”
But I’d fucked up. Failed on the number-one rule of killing, all because my little Dolly thought the maid looked pretty. Like a fucking doll.
I checked the rearview mirror—no hint of blue lights. I raced down the deserted country roads as fast as I could. The sirens grew faint, but I knew there would be more coming. Rain pelted the windshield; I was driving blind.
“Run, run, Rabbit,” Dolly sang beside me. “Run, run as fast as you can!” I glanced at her from the side of my eye. She was bouncing on her seat in sheer excitement.
She had no fucking idea what would happen if they caught us.
I thought back to the state she was in when I found her. She would revert to that. Dolly ripped from Wonderland, plunged back into the room of doors. Too big to fit through any door that gave her back her life . . . her sane mind.
I didn’t want her sane mind. I wanted her like this: fucked up, and dark perfection.
I pushed the gas pedal so hard the car shook at the effort. I drove for hours and hours, until we arrived at a small town. We were both drenched, and I could no longer see through the raging storm. Spotting a building up ahead, set back from the road and surrounded by thick trees, I turned right and headed that way. The car skidded on the rough gravel as I turned in and parked us around back, under the cover of trees and darkness. We would wait out the cops before moving to our next destination.
I cut the engine, the rain lessening some due to the shelter of the thick leaves of the trees. Dolly leaned over the console and, looking up at the bright neon lights dancing on the building’s roof, asked, “What does it say, Rabbit?”
I looked over at her. With her clothes wet, she looked so young. All big blue eyes and pink lips. Her dress clung to her body, her tits wet and glistening. The blood now only stained her dress and socks. “Rabbit?” she said, stroking the rain-slick hair from my face.
I looked up at the sign, and my eyebrow rose in interest. “Girls,” I said, watching the neon woman dance on the roof.
“Girls . . .” Dolly said in awe. She sat forward in her seat and imitated the dancing woman. Even with the worry of the police and not knowing what the fuck this place really was, I couldn’t help but stare at my girl. My eyes were always fixed on her. I could never look away. Nothing else in the firmament—stars, sun or sea—was enough to pull my gaze from her.
Taking out my cell, I texted Chapel.
Me: Call the cops. Tell them you saw us heading east. Throw them off our track.
Chapel: Well, how lovely to hear from you, young squire. I am, as they say, “on it.”
Another reply followed almost immediately.
Chapel: How many to go?
I glanced at Dolly, who was still dancing as she listened to her cassette, staring at the neon dancer in rapt fascination.
Me: Two.
Chapel: Exciting times, Dapper Dan. Good luck. Hyde sends his regards . . . so does Henry, though he has not been around so much lately.
I frowned, wondering why Henry had been absent, when another crack of thunder sounded above us. It was getting closer. I got out of the car and opened Dolly’s side. “Let’s go, darlin’.” She took my proffered hand, and we walked to the entrance of the building. A muscled man stood in the doorway. His eyes narrowed as we approached. He crossed his arms over his chest.
“ID,” he said. I raised my eyebrow at him.
“Wow . . .” Dolly peeked around me. “You’re huge!” She reached out and pressed one of his arms. I ripped her hand away. She narrowed her eyes at me, pissed, but I didn’t care. She didn’t fucking touch anyone else but me.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out wads of hundred-dollar bills. I edged forward and stuffed them into the giant’s jacket pocket. His eyes were wide as he saw how much I had put in there. Cash, courtesy of Tweedledee and Tweedledum’s secret office stash, that I had taken, for safekeeping, before we left.
I stepped back and rested my hands on my cane. “No questions. No ID. A private room. And if the police come, you didn’t see us.”
The meathead stared at me. I smirked, waiting for him to challenge me. In fact, I invited it. But the meathead stepped out of our way and opened the door. Taking Dolly’s hand, I entered the building. The stench of smoke clogged the air. Music shook the walls as the meathead led us down a hallway. My feet stuck to the carpet. And I tightened my grip on Dolly as men walked past us, looking her up and down as she smiled wide at them and waved, dancing to the music as she walked.