GO LONG

"Seen my jacket?"

He jerked his head towards the cabana. I smiled. I could always trust George to keep an eye out for me. He was a great producer, the best in the biz. But more than that, he made my life easy.

Maybe too easy.

He was always there with the party invites, the club appearances, the girls, the drugs.

I grabbed my jacket from the low-slung couch. It was a nice place. Lots of rich people liked to party with porn stars. I shook my head.

I didn't blame them.

I liked to party with me too.

George was cutting lines on a glass table by the pool. A girl in a bikini next to him leaned over with a rolled up hundred dollar bill. I winced at the sound of her snorting. She passed it to George who took a toot.

He held it out to me.

"One for the road?"

I shook my head.

"Gotta go. The dogs."

"Tell Jan to check on them."

"She moved out. New girlfriend."

George shook his head sadly. He'd been after January to work on some of our films. To tell the truth, I was relieved that she'd said no. I felt protective of her. She'd had a rough time as a dancer in Miami. My friends Joss and Chan had asked me to help her find her feet in LA and I had.

Getting her into porn wasn't exactly the nurturing safe haven they'd had in mind.

"Olivia?"

"It's her day off."

"Too bad man, we have another package arriving after lunch. Lots of party favors."

"Thanks man. Maybe later."

I fished my keys out of my pocket and smiled at the poor girl with the glazed over eyes. She was young and very pretty. But she wouldn't stay that way for long if she kept hanging around with this crowd.

I'd seen it a hundred times.

She was George's flavor of the month. But he would use her up and spit her out. He wouldn't be mean about it. But there were always so many girls hanging around. It didn't take much to talk them out of their clothes.

Or in front of the camera.

It was different for George. He needed the flash and the money and the drugs to get laid. The promises of fame.

And hell, sometimes he came through on them.

He had for me.

Of course, I hadn't had to fuck him to do it.

He'd met me when I was finally emancipated from the latest round of shitty foster parents. I was 18 and hanging out in the clubs, fucking anything that moved.

Anything hot and female that is.

He'd taken one look at me and invited me to his table. He'd plied me with booze and drugs. All he'd asked to do in return was watch me fuck. And I was so high by that time, it seemed like a damn good idea.

He'd taken one look at the monster and bam, a star was born.

Now here I was, almost seven years later. Still fucking for money and drugs. It was boring.

I found my bike, undisturbed by the side of the house where I'd left it. It was a good thing too because nobody touched my ride. It was a vintage Harley Knucklehead. It was the first big ticket item I'd bought for myself when I started to get famous.

I loved that damn bike, almost as much as I loved my dogs.

The freeway was already packed so I took side roads, weaving across LA towards the hills where I lived. It was quiet and cool up there. The dogs loved it. But if you had to commute to a regular nine to five job, it was a hike and a half.

Thankfully, my dick paid the bills. And it only worked when I said so.

I was about halfway home when I realized I was still fucked up.

I didn't drive drunk. It was just asking for trouble. A drink or two, yeah, everyone in LA did that. But smashed?

I was cursing under my breath as I turned up a twisty road into the hills. I didn't see the dark gray convertible until it was on top of me. Fucking thing practically blended into the road and the trees. Then suddenly it was there, right in front of me. I threw my weight to the side, breaking with all my might.

It happened so fast. One second I was riding and the next I was sliding forward on my side, fast. Too fast. Right into the woods on the side of the road.

The noise was astonishing. I'd never heard anything that loud in my life and I'd been to a shit load of heavy metal concerts. Nightclubs, you name it.

The sound of your bike getting crushed under the weight of a car blew all that shit out of the water.

I lay on the side of the road, somehow aware of everything and nothing all at the same time. I had gotten thrown at least ten feet from what I could tell. Nothing hurt. Not yet. But I knew it would soon.

I closed my eyes as the sound of sirens came closer.

And then everything faded to black.





Lexi





I was almost to the parking lot when I heard my name being called.

"Lexi! Lexi, we need you!"

It was Drake, one of the ER nurses. I turned to stare at him wearily. Drake was a big guy. Built like a tank. Huge. That wasn't what made him a good nurse, but it came in handy in the ER. Especially late night.

That's when the crazies showed up.

"We are short staffed and there is a crash coming in."

I nodded, plodding behind him like a zombie.

A nurse zombie.

It's not like I could say no.