Chapter 17 #7
“What is it about this kiss that just does it for you?” I ask while readjusting my bra.
He shakes his head as if confounded by the question. “You just blew my fucking mind, and I never got over it. It’s so… borderline pornographic . And you were so sweet and innocent and… wholesome .”
“ Past tense ?” I tease, fixing my bra straps now that my girls are holstered. Dean’s fingers grip my hips.
“Stop wiggling around while I’m still inside you, or you’re going to get me hard again,” Dean growls, but then he answers with a wink, “ There’s been mutual corruption . I really didn’t expect you to bring the devil out of either of us that night.”
“Here we go with the devil shit again.” I roll my eyes before reaching behind him to grab my shirt. Now that we’ve both come to our senses, it’s rather chilly out. He winces as I get up from his lap to dress.
“I know it’s not devil shit,” he says the words on a sigh. “Every time you kiss me like that, I’m transported to our night on the beach.”
“I really made an impression, huh?” I giggle, flinging the top over my shoulder to grab my underwear and pull it back on first. Working my ass back into my leather pants is a higher priority than my top since I’m at least already wearing a bra.
“ Fuckin’ Aces .” Dean pulls his shirt back on and slips into his cut. “Why do you think I put a ring on it and knocked you up so fast? I had to lock you down, STAT .”
“You’re such a rogue.” I laugh, balling up my top.
I throw it at him playfully. He catches it before it smacks him in the face and gently tosses it back to me.
“And since you brought it up,” I begin to say, but Dean’s eyes widen and he shakes his head as he stands, tucking himself back in his pants.
“No. Nope . Not tonight,” he emphatically insists, refastening his belt and fly.
I struggle to keep the smile on my face as if his adamant rejection of the topic doesn’t bother me.
“I was just kidding,” I say, turning from him.
I take my time slipping back into my top.
I need these extra seconds despite the chill.
I don’t want him to know his reaction made me feel like I was just punched in the stomach.
“Come on, doll,” Dean says, once we’re both fully dressed. When I turn back to face him, he’s holding his hand out for me to take. “Let’s head back.”
I nteresting…
It seems I’ve arrived a tad too late and missed more than the impromptu sex show. Hands clasped, sated, and smiling, I watch the supposed happy couple make their way back to the clubhouse. Something is off between them…
Now that the need to remain covert has passed, I light up a cigarette while strolling in the direction of the iron gates where I’ve been informed the loaded van is waiting.
“ You need to leave her alone,” a vaguely familiar feminine voice drifts from the shadows, somewhere among the row of old oaks beside me.
“Did you miss the show as well?” I jest.
“I only followed you out here to warn you.”
“ Warn me?” My laughter escapes on a cloud of smoke as the blonde bitch steps out from behind a tree nearest me.
I pull another long drag and take my time looking her over. My appraising gaze clearly annoys her further. “ Val , is it?” I exhale the smoky words in her direction.
She crosses her arms, pretending the smoke doesn’t offend her. “It doesn’t matter.”
“ Ah , something we agree upon… your insignificance .”
“Just leave her alone, asshole.”
“Val!” the one with the thick Brooklyn accent screams for her unruly girlfriend in the distance. “Where the fuck are you, Val? I told you not to do this tonight!”
The blonde cocks her head over her shoulder, calling back to her. “Over here!”
I take another agitated drag while the loud one makes her way over to her girlfriend. “Are you crazy? If this had to happen, couldn’t it have happened closer to the clubhouse, where there are witnesses ?” The brunette Brooklynite grabs her friend’s arm and attempts to haul her away.
“I’m not afraid of him, Jett.”
I smile back in her glowering face. “It might surprise you to know, I’m more of a feminist than you may think .”
Both women go rigid.
“Yeah, it’s time to go, Val,” the brunette urges her once more.
“No! Hold on a minute!” the blonde shoves away from her companion, taking an aggressive, and what she must think is an intimidating step toward me. “Did you just threaten me?”
I chuckle, though only to grate her nerves. “Perceptive… And they say blondes are dumb.”
“You’re going to get what’s coming to you,” she seethes.
This encounter is rapidly becoming tiresome, and I’ve got shit to do tonight. I don’t bother with further pretenses of civility when I snarl back at her, “ And are you the one who will give it to me , bitch?”
The hostility in her glare doesn’t falter, not even when her raven-haired gal pal tugs at her arm. “Not here, not now!” her Brooklynite bestie insists, dragging her away in the direction of the clubhouse.
Watching them go, I snuff out the butt of my cigarette beneath my boot, then head for the van.
M y motorcycle remains where I’d stashed it earlier tonight, in an old, neglected cemetery down a dirt path surrounded by woods.
If there is one thing this state isn’t lacking, it’s isolated, seemingly forgotten graveyards.
This one happens to be a half mile from the remnants of the cook trailer I blew up earlier tonight.
I pull the van up to the crooked gates and throw the shifter into park, leaving the headlights on to illuminate the centuries-old headstones just beyond the rusty metal barrier, which is barely clinging to the crumbling stone and mortar wall.
“You can sit up now,” I inform my new pawn.
Still blindfolded and gagged, he maneuvers his head from between his knees beneath the dash and sits back against the passenger seat.
He’s breathing heavier now that we aren’t moving.
I take my time lighting up a cigarette, giving him a moment to worry about what happens next before I reach over and remove the gag from his mouth.
“ Please don’t kill me…” he immediately begs.
I remove his blindfold and watch him blink, attempting to focus on the eerie scene beyond the windshield. He pulls in another quivering breath as the silent threat sinks in.
“ Oh God…” He turns to me, eyes wide, bloodshot, and filled to the brim with tears. “ Please don’t kill me… I told you everything you wanted to know.”
I pull a long leisurely drag while I study him, prolonging the tension of the moment before I speak. “Now tell me why I should let you live.”
“ W-what ?”
“I want you to tell me…all of the reasons why… I should let you live.”
He proceeds to ramble on and on about his life, his ailing mother, his unsuspecting wife and kids. How he’s not a bad guy , he’s just been hard-up for cash. While he drones on, I reach into my jacket and remove the wallet I took off of him earlier, then proceed to flip through the contents within.
He's definitely not a seasoned criminal, or he never would have had a wallet on him containing anything of importance to begin with.
“ The family , I presume?” I pluck a tattered photo of a woman and three children from the plastic encasement within.
“Yes,” he says on a strangled whimper.
I slip the photo inside my jacket, as well as his license and social security card, then toss the wallet into his lap.
“You’ve just told me all the reasons you’re going to do exactly as I say.”
A warring mixture of hope and horror eclipses his expression, and he nods adamantly. “ Yes, yes I’ll do anything!”
“I want you to bear in mind the nature of the men you’re involved with. They will kill you , Stanley Jones. They will kill you and your family for what you have revealed to me tonight.”
He nods slowly, coming to terms with being trapped between a rock and a hard place.
“Though should you suffer a major lapse in judgement and betray me, I assure you, despite your fate, the gruesome things I will do to your loved ones…well,” I tilt my head in the direction of the illuminated headstones. “you’ll wish I made you dig your own grave tonight.”
He swallows hard and audibly. “I’ll do exactly as you say.”
“It is now on your integral shoulders to convince those concerned over the events of this night, that you somehow managed to escape the fate of your colleagues. Perhaps you bolted into the woods, became lost and confused. Spin a convincing tale of disorientation from the blast. Your life depends on it.”
He nods slowly in understanding. “What else?”
There’s one thing I intentionally neglected to ask Stanley in front of the Jokers. “I want the name of the man at the head of this criminal enterprise.”
“He’s only known by his alias, and no one ever sees him,” Stan nervously insists.
I expected as much. After all, that’s how I operated. “And what is this alias?”
“H-he’s known only as… Legion .”
Well, I’ll be damned…