Disinherited trust fund baby becomes an escort specializing in helping older women live their wildest romantic fantasies. (MATURE)
CHASTAIN DEVILLIER, 20, is the loose cannon in a wealthy family descended from two very long and very aristocratic B...
I took her outside to show her how simple it was to use. Chambered for a .22 WMR round all she had to do was unfold it and fire—two handed, for safety's sake. It hops up out of your hand a little bit when you shoot.
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"There's a little storage space in the handle," I said. "So you have four rounds in all. Wanna try it?"
She went through the steps up to the point of firing when she stopped me and said, "I get the idea."
"It's more powerful than it looks, okay? You should fire it once at least."
"I don't wanna freak anybody out."
"I have a feeling Madame's heard gunfire before."
But she wouldn't budge, so I chambered a round and she folded it back up deftly enough to convince me she could handle it.
And then she said, "So you're gonna go with me, aren't you? Even though that's not the plan." Giving me that "wary" stare again.
"Of course I am."
"It'll make them suspicious."
"Perhaps."
"And what happens once you're over there?"
"We will literally cross that bridge when we come to it. The point is to lay low until we know what the hell they're really chasing you for. If it's serious, we can fly to Mexico City or something and regroup."
She sort of wrung her hands and said, "No, we're not doin' that! We stay on this side—between Victor and all those people you know we'll have an answer pretty quick. And if we get stopped or anything, we'll tell them—"
"You were showing me the places you leave water and food," I said.
"What?"
"That's the story if it comes to that. I'm writing an article about what you do. And I convinced you to bring me down here to see the places where it's easiest to do that."
She paused...and then smiled faintly and said, "You're kinda scaring me now..."
I went over, kissed her forehead and said, "Say it back to me. You brought me--"
"I got it," she said.
But she was shaking. So I held her until the shaking stopped.
And she looked up at me and said, "I've had guns and knives and shit pulled on me plenty of times out there. But you're so emotional—you gotta chill, okay? With the guns and stuff."
I kissed her and said, "Let's just get on the road, okay?"
She gave me one last glare before we went back inside. And while she was doing that obligatory final check I spied this upright piano—the old "player" kind that you put these ingenious paper rolls into in so it would play on its own.
