Experiment in Terror 05.6 The Dex-Files (18 page)

An excerpt from
The Devil’s Metal

Mel ripped off her sunglasses and gave me the stare down. She had won the staring contest against my horse earlier –
I
was powerless. I looked down at my hands and dirty fingernails.

“Are you calling them girls sluts because of the way they’re dressed, cuz, damn child you must think I’m a downright ho in my little booty boobie get-up here,” she said with full-on attitude.

“You’re not a groupie,” I protested feebly.

“Who cares? I could be. What’s wrong with trying to get some rock and roll tail? Sex is sex Dawn, even for the wrong reasons. I thought you were all for this women’s liberation shit and bra burning.”

I looked down at my chest. “I didn’t need those bras anyway.”

She put her hand on my shoulder. She wasn’t gentle. Mel could fly off the handle and you never wanted her on your bad side.

“It doesn’t mean you have to spread your legs if you don’t want to,” she told me in her I’m-a-year-older-let-me-lecture-you voice. “But let those girls be those girls. You be yourself, loosen up, and maybe, just maybe, if you try the groupie angle, you’ll end up getting the real story.”

I gave her fingers a quick kiss before shrugging them off. “You are a terrible influence Miss Melanie Jones.”

She laughed, throwing her head back. “And you need a good shag, Miss Dawn Emerson. You can’t have the rock n’ roll without the sex. And drugs. Speaking of…”

She brought out her saddlebag purse and pulled out a joint from her slim cigarette case.

“What did I say about thinking clearly,” I reminded her. But I ended up taking a quick puff anyway. Pot was good for the musical experience and clearly I needed to loosen up a little. I felt as tense as the coming storm.

We got out of the car sufficiently high. I gathered my confidence, threw back my shoulders and the two of us strode proudly toward the entrance to The Ripper. We were getting second glances from a lot of the guys. Naturally the sight of a short, curvy black girl and a tall red-head garnered a lot of attention in itself, plus there were Mel’s boobs swinging around in her top and that flirtatious smile of hers. If they could get past the mess of hair and the horse-shit boots, I knew deep down I wasn’t anything to sneeze at either. But was I “beat out the groupies and score an interview with a rock-star” hot? That remained to be seen.

Table of Contents

Prologue