Pamela Anderson - Star Struck

Their nudity had been digitally masked but the murder was shown on national television. Cathy was mistaken about one thing, the footage was far from exclusive. Hank and Theresa had dubbed off as many copies as they could that night, and while he was working with the police, she had been putting together their retirement fund, selling copies to every network and news outlet in the world.

“I can’t believe that,” Star said, staring at the radio as they listened for the third time to the photographer’s screams as he plunged from their balcony. “How did they get the video? The only person who had the combination for the safe besides you and me was…”

“Hank,” Jimi snarled, his knuckles turning white as he clutched the steering wheel.

“Well, to be fair, Theresa knows too,” Star said. “But then she’s dating…”

“Hank,” Jimi said. “The rat fuck sold us out.”

“You don’t know that,” Star said, trying vainly to defend her beloved brother.

“We take you live to a press conference with Star Wood Leigh’s brother, Hank Leigh, as he reveals his tormented decision to turn in his own sister when he discovered evidence of her despicable crimes.”

“For the last time her last fucking name is Deed,” Jimi said, succeeding in blowing the radio out of the dashboard with his Mauser Hsc.

“Look out!” Star screamed as she saw the metal barrier closing fast in front of the car.

Jimi braked too late.

As the world watched in horror, the little black sports coupe smashed through the barrier, hit the dirt road at the entrance to the small hilltop park, and disappeared into a cloud of dust.

For minutes, as newscasters the world over speculated, the fate of the two was not known as everyone waited for the dust to clear.

“According to park rangers there is a massive drop just a matter of yards from where the car broke through the barrier,” Kurt was explaining for the cameras. “Unless they were able to stop in time, they could easily have plunged to their deaths over the cliff, ironically, just like the man believed to be their first victim. We have computer simulations of what that plunge might have looked like.”

Hank was annoyed that their deaths had cut his news conference short, but the three movie offers he’d already had that morning went a long way toward helping him get over it. He still could not quite believe the strange series of events that had begun while he was sneaking a peek at the amateur home videos only the night before and landing him on the world stage before lunchtime.

L.A. was a long way from Arcady Key.

“Hello? Andy?”

“Star? Is that you?” Andy Callas said by way of welcome to his on-air guest as Star’s voice crackled onto the airwaves of America’s most listened to morning radio program. Always at the top of the charts, Andy’s show went off the scale when every network and news service around the world went live with his broadcast so that Star spoke to the entire world at once from her cell phone as she and Jimi sat in Topanga State Park waiting for the dust to settle.

“Hi, Andy,” Star said, her girlish voice strangely at odds with what the world had just discovered about her only moments before.

“Star, is there anything you’d like to say?”

“Yes,” Star said, softly. “I just want to say first that those videotapes were our private property and they were stolen from our home. And secondly, that man broke into our hotel room and photographed us making love on our honeymoon. So, whatever action we took was in self-defense.”

“He looked pretty defenseless hanging from that balcony,” Andy said in his typical cut-to-the-bone style.

“That’s how he broke into our room in the first place,” Star said. “It’s dangerous hanging from the sides of buildings.”

“Anything you want to say to your fans?” Andy asked as he could see on the monitors that the dust was clearing and an army of police cars were closing on them.

“Yeah,” Star sighed. “First, thank you for you support. And second, leave us alone.”

“Thanks Star, for being on the show today,” Andy said. “I hope we’ll get the chance to talk to each other again.”

“Yeah, me too, Andy,” Star said. “Anything you want to say, Jimi?”

“Everyone sucks but us,” Jimi’s voice, cracking with laughter, came in from the background.

“I love you, babe,” Jimi said, taking her hand and kissing it. “It’s been the best with you, every, every minute.”

“I love you, babe,” Star said, kissing his hand, his chest, his neck, and then finding his mouth for a passionate moment, lost in each other once again.

“Jimi,” Star said, her eyes brimming with tears. “I have to tell you something.”

“No more words, babe,” Jimi said, touching her lips to silence her. “No apologies. We’ve lived our lives full speed and that’s how we’ll go out.”

Jimi stomped the accelerator and, as the world—which had just heard the declarations live via Star’s still open cell phone call to Andy Callas—watched in horror, the Testarossa’s tires spun in the dust and the car reached nearly 100 m.p.h. as they hurtled toward the cliff that they had chosen as their launching pad.

Unlike the rest of the world, what Jimi and Star could not see was the line of police cars rushing up to cut them off, robbing them of their dramatic final moment and their freedom to choose their own fate.

Jimi spun the car away from the intervening police cruisers to avoid a collision. Chaos ensued. Clouds of dust made it hard to see. Shots were fired, but it was unclear by whom. Star and Jimi leaped from the car to make a run for each other for one final embrace before the officers tore them apart.

“Star, Star!” Jimi screamed straining against the hands of half a dozen officers to get to her as she struggled to reach him.

“Jimi,” Star shouted. “I love you, babe.”

“I love you, babe.”

The police began to jerk her around roughly in an effort to get cuffs on her, knocking her down briefly and then yanking her to her feet again. “Be careful,” she screamed. “I’m pregnant.”

“What?” Jimi says, going rigid for a moment and then turning into a wild man to try to get to her.

“I’m pregnant,” she said tenderly as she was cuffed and led away.

“No!” Jimi screamed, losing control. As the adrenaline kicked in, his strength became almost superhuman, and he began tossing police officers aside like rag dolls. The officers responded in kind and began clubbing Jimi into submission, tackling him to the ground as Star watched in horror.

Despite the beating he was taking, Jimi would not give up his struggle to be at her side and broke free, charging toward Star and the officers surrounding her.

“Let her go!” he screamed, pulling the Mauser from his belt as he charged. “I love you, Star.”

Armed and dangerous, the officers opened fire on Jimi.

“I love you, Jimi,” Star screamed hysterically as a hail of bullets brought him down before her eyes. Hands restrained her as she tried to get to him when he fell. And a hand on her head as she was forced into the car and driven away. Star clutched her stomach to embrace and protect all that she had left of the man she loved.

“I love you, Jimi,” she whispered. “I’ll always love you.”

STAR

1230 Avenue of the Americas

New York, NY 10020

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.