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Acquisition

By: JimBob44



*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

Chapter 1



Tommy MacElroy lay awake, not by choice, but because his wife's snoring was entering the third phase. It would stay at Phase Three for a few moments, a deep rumbling snore on each intake of breath, and then enter Phase Four. Phase Four was a deep rumbling snore on each intake of breath and a moaning hiss on each outflow of breath. 

Phase Five, since Kaitlin had drank only beer tonight, would be a harsh snorting gasp on the intake. This phase, since she'd

Only drank beer, was usually enough to wake her.

Sometimes she'd take a sip of water from the glass she kept on her bedside table and this would slow the onset of Phase One, a deep breathing that would end with a little 'harrumph' at the end, then an outgoing sigh. Phase Two was quick to follow, a light snoring intake of breath.

If she drank hard liquor, which Kaitlin was wont to do, Phase One would very quickly morph into Phase Four, then Phase Five, but if she drank enough whiskey, Phase Five would go on and on until he jostled her enough to rouse her slightly.

Woe be it to Tommy, though, if he jostled Kaitlin too much, rousing her from her drunken slumber. Then his shrill wife would scream at him for waking her and she did not believe that she snored.

Kaitlin Monroe had drank only beer tonight because her mother, Patricia Monroe, her two brothers, the twins Chad and Jeffrey, and Sister Hillary had come over for 'a nice little family get-together.'

A 'nice little family get-together' usually consisted of long moments of awkward silence, punctuated by his mother pointing out that they were both nearly thirty years of age; why did they still live in an apartment? They were nearly thirty years of age; why didn't Tommy have a real job? They were nearly thirty years of age; did they ever plan on having children? And Chad and Jeffrey glaring with undisguised hostility at him. Hillary sympathized with Tommy, but since she often joined her sister in drinking, was unable to do more than just say 'come on y'all, leave him alone' every so often.

His own wife, who was the one that had decided they would wait on children, would just smirk at him when her mother brought up their lack of children. His wife, the formerly beautiful, voluptuous Kaitlin Monroe, now just a bloated remnant of her former beauty, would just smirk when her mother made snide remarks about his job at Clark's Drive-In.

Never mind the fact that it was his job that paid their rent, their groceries, Kaitlin's unending law school tuition, books, and other incidentals.

No, he rarely had any money left over, but he was paying their 

bills.

Phase Five lasted for nearly three minutes until she jerked awake. Much to his relief, she did take a gulp of water before flopping back down into her mountain of pillows.

He put his fist into her back as she attempted to roll over, keeping her facing away from him. Now, maybe he could fall asleep.

For a few years, Kaitlin Monroe seemed to be happy with keeping their relationship where it was. He worked at Delphi's Diner as an assistant manager while she occasionally went to school, then took one or two semesters off 'to recharge.' She was happy still living at home with her beloved father, Judge Harold Monroe, mother Patricia, sister and two brothers.

Tommy had professed his love for her, had been professing this love since they'd first started dating in high school. Upon their graduation in 2005, he had proposed marriage and Kaitlin did not outright decline, but did say they would wait. Tommy knew then he should have walked and wished now he had done just that. But Kaitlin was always willing to let him play with her thirty eight E breasts and always willing to let him pound her hairless slit. She seemed to be especially turned on by danger; the fact that, at any moment, her father might storm into her room and catch

Them really got her motor running.

But every time Tommy brought up marriage, she would ask what the hurry was.

Then the summer riot of 2012, Delphi's Diner was one of the many DeGarde businesses that had gone up in flames.

DeGarde Dance Studio, the small studio right next door to the diner had also fell victim to the Angels 270's murderous rampage.

Tommy and Kizzy Clark, a friend and former classmate, stood, staring at the smoldering ruins of their places of employment. Kizzy held onto him and sobbed; she had loved dancing, had loved teaching dancing, and had genuinely loved each and every student of hers.

"Hey, boy," Stan Delchon, third generation owner of Delphi's Diner, the grandson of the original Mr. Delphi, gruffly said. "This is it; wife's been after me for ten years sell it now, Stan Junior and Barbara? They want nothing do with it; believe that? Place paid for them go to them fancy ass hotsy totsy schools of theirs and they don't even want to know. But, what're you going to do, huh? God damned kids, huh? Here, boy; you was a good kid; always liked you; you take care now."

With that, he stuffed a wad of one hundred dollar bills into Tommy's hand, patted the young man on the shoulder, and got into his Lincoln Continental and drove away.

Numbly, Tommy stuffed the money into his pocket. He jerked when his cell phone rang.

"Tom... Tommy?" Kaitlin sobbed into the telephone.  "Tommy? My daddy? Those animals, those animals..."

Between fits of sobbing and screaming and wailing, Tommy was able to decipher that her father, the honorable Judge Harold Monroe had been gunned down as he sat in his black Mercedes-Benz.

The riot, in particular the Judge's murder and the funeral did receive much local attention.

Tommy thought it the height of hypocrisy that no one mentioned that the Judge had been in an area of Bender known to be frequented by prostitutes and their clientele.

A month after the murder, Chad and Jeffrey walked a chastened Kaitlin Monroe up the aisle to where a solemn Tommy MacElroy waited.

It bothered him, and his mother, that Kaitlin refused to take his last name. Her reasoning that 'Monroe is a name known and respected in the legal field of St. Elizabeth Parish' held very little water for Tommy or Gladys MacElroy,

But Kaitlin was adamant.  Again, Tommy reflected as he stared at the unsympathetic digital clock, he should have walked away.

That evening, Tommy had toiled in the kitchen after toiling all day at Clark's Drive-In, making the lasagna, while Kaitlin spent her time putting on her make-up and trying on a few dresses and asking his opinion of each dress.  He didn't know why she asked his opinion; no matter what he said, he was wrong for not noticing that she'd worn this dress the last time her family visited, or that there was a small tear right at the sleeve's arm hole, or it didn't' go with the shoes she had on.

"Looks like shit, Honey, why don't you just wear a table cloth and a pair of jumper cables?" he said after the sixth dress showing.

"God damn, don't know why I even fucking bother; you're such a fucking ass hole," she had shrilled, stomping away.

Thankfully, there was a harsh knock at the door, ending the fashion parade. Unfortunately, because he'd had to tidy up the apartment while also cooking dinner, the meal would be another twenty minutes before it could be served.

Twenty minutes. Twenty long minutes of uncomfortable silence or complaints. Twenty long minutes of Chad, Jeffrey, Hillary and Kaitlin helping themselves to his beer while Patricia complained about the low-quality wine he served. Low-quality or not, it did not stop her from emptying nearly the entire liter bottle.

Kaitlin's Phase Three started, but Tommy had finally managed to fall asleep.

The next morning was a blustery, cold November day, so Tommy fixed them both oatmeal for breakfast, but made sure to have plenty of sugar on hand. Kaitlin would render the breakfast nearly white with the amount of sugar she would heap into the bowl, all the while complaining that she hated oatmeal. He also had a steaming mug of coffee and a tall glass of orange juice ready.

"Morning," she groggily mumbled, staggering into the kitchen.

He looked at her in the harsh morning light. They were both twenty seven years old, but Kaitlin looked almost forty, with blotchy, puffy skin, wrinkles on her forehead, lifeless blonde hair that needed a serious washing. She had jowls that hung down and two double chins.

Standing nude in their small kitchen/dining room, her breasts, once two proud globes of flesh, were now sagging lumps of flesh that reached below her navel. Her pubic mound was scruffy looking; she had not bothered to shave it in several days. Her belly also protruded; she used to have a tiny waist. Her belly now mirrored her rear end, which was a fat jiggling mound above each cottage cheese thigh.

But she was his wife and he loved her. He had fallen in love with her because she was a beauty and he found it hard to turn that love off, even if she scarcely resembled that girl from so long ago.

He had no illusions of what he looked like. He still had the head of dark curls he'd had in high school. He still had the muscular arms and chest he'd had in high school; hard work made sure of that. His belly was beginning to soften just a bit; he resolved to do ten extra push ups that morning and each morning after that to try to get that tight abdomen he had been so proud of. His thighs and calves were also muscular; he spent many hours on his feet, running here and there, making sure the diner ran smoothly.

But there were lines on his face now and a few strands of gray were beginning to shoot through his dark curls. His mother would always comment on how tired he looked whenever he would come over to see her.

"Fucking hate oatmeal," Kaitlin grumbled, heaping three tablespoons of sugar into the bowl.

"Uh huh, cold outside, thought a good hot breakfast would get your day started right," Tommy said, taking his own bowl into the living room to eat at the couch.

To his left was the Judge's leather recliner. The chair had sat in Harold Monroe's home office, a big overstuffed ugly blue monstrosity that Kaitlin just had to have. 

Tommy thought it was a very fitting reminder of Judge Harold Monroe. A large, overstuffed, ugly monstrosity that was an inconvenience.

"Oh, oh, oh, I need twenty bucks; see, it's Parker's birthday so we're all going to that Casa Ole's for lunch," Kaitlin interrupted his mindless ruminations.

"Oh, oh, oh! Tough shit; electric bill was almost three hundred this month because someone kept forgetting turn off the heater when she left," Tommy snapped. "Guess they'll just have to go to his birthday party without you."

"Fine, fucking ass hole," Kaitlin snarled bitterly.

Tommy made sure his wallet was firmly in his pocket until she got dressed and slammed out of the apartment, already twenty minutes late for class. He wasn't worried about her; she would either swing by her mother's, or by Hillary's place of work, or even borrow the money from a co-worker at the Law Office of Johnson, Johnson, and Lambert.

Since he did not have to go to work until four that evening, Tommy stretched out in the bed and was asleep within seconds of laying down.



Chapter 2



"Order up," Tommy yelled, even though Melinda Fontenot was five feet away, preparing the sodas for the order.

"Got it!" she yelled.

Outside, the cold blustery November day had turned into a cold, blustery and rainy November night. The high canopy of the drive-in kept the waitresses dry, for the most part,  but every now and then, a gust of wind would blow the rain under the canopy and the poor girls would get sprayed.

"God damn; cold out there!" Debbie Dublachon, one of the waitresses complained bitterly as she skated in. "And believe this? Idiot out there wants a large hot fudge sundae! A sundae! I mean, it's what, twenty degrees out there?"

"Twenty degrees, it'd be snowing," Tommy corrected and quickly made the sundae while she waited.

"Might as well be," Debbie said then grabbed the sundae off the counter.

Kizzy Clark skated in, called out her order then dashed to the restroom.  Nancy, the short order cook repeated the order, then dropped

The three hamburger patties onto the grill.

Tommy looked out to the row of customers' automobiles and grimaced as he saw Jack Vogel's Orange Charger pull up. A moment later, laden down with trays, Melinda came barreling into the diner.

"Hey Tommy," she called out.

"One cheeseburger, hold the meat, one cheeseburger, mayonnaise, lettuce, tomato, chili cheese fries," Tommy said before she could order.

"Yep," she beamed up at him.

Tommy sighed. Because Jack had been a classmate of his, and of Kizzy's, Melinda assumed that dating Jack meant that she and Tommy and Kizzy were friends.

Tommy didn't really have a problem with the bubbly girl, found her quite pretty to look at, and seemed to have a good head on her shoulders. But Jack Vogel had been an ass hole when they'd been at St. Thomas Aquinas together and Tommy had not liked the brash, arrogant man back then. Now that Jack Vogel wore a police uniform, he was even more brash and arrogant.

Tommy wondered if Jack could place an order for Melinda; if Jack knew that Melinda routinely ordered her cheeseburgers without meat.

Tommy poured the melted cheese onto the French fries but put chili on only one half of the plate; he knew that Melinda would eat from the meatless side of the plate.

Tommy was willing to bet that his wife, Kaitlin, did not know that Tommy mixed ketchup and Tabasco together to dip his French fries. Even after they'd been together for nine years, the few times she had offered to bring anything home for dinner, she still had to ask him what he wanted.

"Order up," he yelled while Melinda fixed Jack's cherry cola and her own diet cola. 

Tommy was willing to bet Jack did not know that his girlfriend drank diet cola because she believed herself to be fat. Melinda was not fat. She had slightly large breasts, and a cute little bubble butt, but her belly was flat and her legs were muscular from hours and hours of skating.

"Order up!" Nancy announced and Kizzy grabbed it.

"How come Melinda's order was ready before mine?" Kizzy teased Nancy.

"Because, the sooner I feed Jack, the sooner he's gone," Tommy smiled and Kizzy shot him a wide smile.

Tommy admired her long brown hair, her firm buttocks and her extremely muscular legs as she skated away. Kizzy seemed to sense his eyes on her; she turned right at the door and shot him another wide smile.

He shook his head; it was a shame that Kizzy, as pretty as she was, happened to be as flat as a board in front.

"She's a looker, huh?" Nancy asked as she shook out a cigarette.

"Stuff's going to stunt your growth," Tommy teased.

The four foot, eight inch tall Nancy smirked, slapped him on his rear and waddled out the side door, letting in a tremendous blast of cold air.

Tommy used the time in between orders to clean the work area, to monitor the level of hot oil in the fry bins, to stack the plates and dishes and trays.

Kizzy watched him while she also kept an eye for new arrivals. Her father had been reluctant to hire Tommy on her recommendation, but now had to admit that Tommy MacElroy was a God-send

Debbie Dublachon, the baby sister of a former classmate, spent her down time busily texting with her boyfriend, Donald 'DJ' Pellichet, Junior.  Debbie let out a shriek as Nancy opened the side door, letting in a blast of cold air. Tommy and Kizzy laughed and the eighteen year old girl glared at them.

Three times that night, Tommy had to run out into the cold rain to throw away garbage. After the drive-in closed at 10:00 pm, he quickly gathered all trash and made a last run for the dumpster. He came back, thoroughly soaked; a customer had obviously not seen him and had splashed him as they drove past.

"Go, go, I got this," Tommy ordered the three waitresses and Nancy.

He made sure all the doors were locked, the grill shut off, the fry vats turned off, then went and counted up that night's receipts.

Because John Clark was an unbelievable cheapskate, the heater shut off automatically at 10:00 pm and it was now quite chilly in the small office as Tommy made out the deposit slip and prepared the bank bag.

Finally, Tommy shrugged on his coat, put his left hand on his .32 snub nose and ran for his car.

He kept his eyes on the road around him, determining that he was not being followed, but still drove past the First Union Bank before doubling back, then racing up to the Night Deposit drop slot. This time, he pulled his pistol out, had the safety off then dropped the bag into the slot.

Not even Kaitlin knew Tommy owned a gun and had a Concealed Weapons Permit. His mother did know of the gun and was quite vocal about her fears. But she did agree with him, if anyone was going to rob him, she would rather Tommy be the one to shoot the robber, rather than the robber shoot Tommy.

Then he drove home to the second floor apartment.

Tommy looked up to the third floor apartment as two people stepped out onto the third floor landing. From where he sat, it appeared to be a young woman and man, but bundled as they were against the cold, it was hard to tell.  Then he saw his upstairs neighbor open the door and hand the smaller bundled figure a purse.

Tommy's eyes opened wide; the petite red head was completely nude and obviously had no qualms about stepping outside, where she was visible to the parking lot and to the street.

He cursed the fact that it was dark; he could not tell if she was a natural red head or not; Kaitlin said their neighbor was not.

The cold was obviously too much for his neighbor, Tommy could not remember her name, and she gave both figures quick kisses then stepped back in to her apartment, closing the door.

Tommy sat in his darkened car until the two figures got into a late model BMW. He then got out and shivered in the cold rain.

Inside their apartment, Kaitlin lay sprawled on the couch, two textbooks on the floor next to an empty bottle of Evan Williams. He pursed his lips; that bottle had been less than two weeks old and he had bought it to replace the bottle that Chad and Jeffrey had emptied.

Tommy also knew Kaitlin would be in Phase Four and Five for much of the evening.

As he stood there, shivering with cold in his wet clothes, she was already in an unbelievable snorting grunting gasping version of Phase Five.

Tommy went into the bathroom, opened the hamper, and very nearly stormed back into the living room.  He had asked her that morning, please wash his work clothes and she had promised. He had showed her where the roll of quarters was and she had again promised she would wash the clothes. She had even sealed the promise with a kiss.

But the hamper was just as full as it had been that morning.

He wearily showered off the stench of the day, and then pulled on his tee shirt and flannel shorts.

For a brief moment, Tommy debated on whether to wake Kaitlin. Between his entering the apartment and exiting the bathroom, she must have woken up; she was back at Phase Four snoring.

"Fuck her. Fucking tells me she'll do the clothes, oh I promise, then doesn't? Fuck her, she can sleep on the God damned couch," he muttered to himself and flopped into bed.

"Why you didn't wake me?" Kaitlin shrilled at him the next morning as he fixed their eggs, over medium, toast, and grits.

"Did; woke you up when I got home," Tommy lied. "Told me you just had a few more pages to do, then woke you up again when I got out of the shower and you said you'd be right in."

She looked confused.

"But uh, why you didn't wash my clothes like you said you would?" Tommy asked, slapping her plate in front of her.


Acquisition



"I, your, oh! I forgot," Kaitlin responded glibly. "Don't worry, I'll do them today; I'm not going into the office today, okay?"

"Kaitlin, reason I asked you, reason I begged you please do them yesterday is I have no work clothes for today," Tommy snapped. "Never mind. Never fucking mind, I'll do the God damned clothes myself. You just do whatever you want, don't fucking worry about it."

"God, I said I'm sorry, all right? Fuck! I forgot!" she shrilled at him.

Chapter 3

Tommy felt horrible and was sure he was running a fever. He had woken up with a headache and even the three Tylenol he'd taken had done little to ease the pain. He listlessly ate while Kaitlin shoveled her food into her mouth.

"Oh, I had to borrow twenty bucks from Jason; he's this I.T. Geek there," Kaitlin informed him.

"Borrow twenty, why'd you have to borrow twenty bucks?" Tommy asked, forcing the food down with a swallow of orange juice.

"Uh, Parker's birthday? At Casa Ole?" Kaitlin huffed.  "Remember? I asked for twenty bucks and you went off on some tirade about heating bills and..."

Immediately after he finished eating his breakfast, Tommy gathered up his clothing, the laundry detergent and the roll of quarters and slammed out of the apartment.

The upstairs neighbor, the petite red head smiled up at Tommy when he entered the building's laundry room.

"Using two of them; leaves you with three," she said in her squeaky voice. "How you doing?"

Tommy mumbled a response, wishing again he could remember the neighbor's name. He did remember that she said she was a dancer at the Dead End bar. He did remember that she had frequent visitors, both male and female tramping up and down her stairs.

Then he sat down while she took the clothes out of one machine and put them into a dryer.

Tommy came to with her nudging him.

"Hey, your clothes were done so I put them into the fourth dryer; it's the fastest one," she smiled. "I'll be that neighborly, but I'm not paying for you; you can pay for your own drying."

"Thanks," he mumbled and she lost her smile.

"You all right? You don't look so good," she asked in a concerned voice.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine," he said and got to unsteady feet.

"You sure? Your wife at home?" she asked as he wobbled over to the fourth dryer.

"Beats me; probably not," he shrugged and fed some quarters into the machine.

"Oh, you're burning up!" she shrilled, touching his forehead. "You need to get in bed!"

"Good idea," he said and flopped back down into the chair.

"Want me get your, Kaitlin, right? Want me see if Kaitlin's home?" she asked.

"No, no, I'll be all right," he mumbled, wishing he could remember the woman's name, and wishing she'd stop talking; her voice was grating on his nerves.

She made him promise he'd take some aspirin and get some rest, then left the laundry area.

"Fucking Angela cares more... Angela! Her name is Angela Brodt, or Brandt, or something like that," Tommy muttered.

His clothes were dry and only slightly warm when he woke up again.

Kaitlin's car was gone, as was Angela's as Tommy staggered up to their apartment. He stared at the dirty dishes in the sink, the pan that still sat on the stove, and the now warm jug of orange juice that sat on the table.

It was already eleven thirty but he wasn't hungry so he took three more Tylenol and left everything just as she had left it, except for putting the jug of orange juice back into the refrigerator. He flopped back into the bed that Kaitlin had not bothered to make that morning and fell asleep.

Tommy was grateful he had remembered to set the alarm; it woke him at three thirty.  Kaitlin had said she was not going to Johnson, Johnson and Lambert that afternoon after class, but here it was, three thirty, and she was not at home.

He pulled on his clean work clothes, debated on whether or not he should eat something, decided three Tylenol and a glass of orange juice was good enough, and then left for work.

At work, Tommy's head quickly became congested and he was constantly having to blow his nose to clear it.  He carried the trash out to the dumpster, then dashed back into the building and decided to use the bathroom.

"I mean, Jack knows I want to be a virgin on my wedding night," he could hear Melinda saying to someone.

"Oh, come on! In high school, Jack was one of the biggest..." Kizzy's voice protested.

Tommy wasn't trying to eavesdrop. They were standing right by the door and the sink was next to the door.

"I mean, you know, I give him..." Melinda said and Tommy opened the door in time to see the bubbly blonde girl pantomime giving oral sex.

Both girls shrieked when he opened the door.

"Hey, y'all, Theresa's out there all by herself?" Tommy barked, far more harshly than he had intended and both girls skated back outside.

Harvey, their new short order cook, smirked as a red faced Melinda came in and shouted an order, unable to meet Tommy's eyes.

"What'd you catcher doing?" Harvey asked, and then frowned.

"Dude, you look like shit," the one armed Marine veteran of the Afghanistan Conflict said. "And coming from me, that's saying something.

"Oh my God, you're on fire!" Kizzy gasped, feeling Tommy's forehead. "Oh, Tommy! Go home! Go on; I'll call Daddy."

Tommy did not argue; he could barely stand any longer.  He locked what receipts they'd made so far into the safe, then staggered out to his car and left.

Arriving at the apartment building, he frowned deeply. Hillary's Lexus was parked in his spot. In the 'Visitors' spaces there was Chad or Jeffrey's SUV, and a police cruiser.

Tommy wasn't sure who the police cruiser was visiting so he simply parked behind the SUV. He cursed as he stomped up the stairs; if Hillary and Chad, or Chad and Jeffrey were there, that meant they would be drinking and they would be loud. He could beg them, plead with them, reason with them, but they would not be quiet. In fact, they would double the noise level just because he asked for quiet.

They were not in the living room, or in the kitchen/dining area. Tommy could see the wreckage of their visit, though. There was a bottle of Jim Beam and he wanted to scream in rage; the bottle had not even been opened that morning but was now almost bone dry. There was also a bottle of vodka and it was nearly emptied too. There were several beer cans and he almost smirked; there had only been four cans of beer in the refrigerator so someone had to have bought the other fourteen cans of beer he saw scattered around the kitchen/dining area and the living room.

Then Tommy frowned. If they were not in the kitchen/dining area, or in the living room, and the bathroom door was ajar and the interior was dark, there was only one other place they could be.

Tommy grabbed his cell phone, found the video record feature and started the function, then nudged the door of the bedroom open.

The first thing Tommy saw on the queen sized bed was Chad's plump buttocks bouncing up and down as he pumped his short, fat cock in and out of his older sister, Hillary. Obviously, his was not the first cock Hillary had taken that evening, each pump of Chad's forced semen out of her blonde muff.

Next to them, Jack Vogel knelt behind Kaitlin, pounding his cock in and out of Kaitlin's stretched, raw looking anus, while Jeffrey pumped his short fat cock in and out of his oldest sister's mouth.

Kaitlin's splayed pussy lips dripped with semen, as did her face; the quintet had obviously been at it for a while.

Chad stiffened, groaned, and more semen flooded out of Hillary's pussy.

Then Chad rolled over, nearly falling off of the bed.  Hillary laughed and turned to say something to the clumsy oaf. And that's when she saw Tommy standing in the doorway.

Hillary froze in horror, and then let out a blood-curdling scream.

"Hi Honey, I'm home," Tommy called out loudly and Jeffrey bellowed in pain as Kaitlin bit down on his cock.

"Stupid fucking cunt!" Jeffrey screamed, slapping his sister.

Jack turned to look at Tommy, his soiled cock popping out of Kaitlin's slimy rectum. Kaitlin reacted with a thunderous fart.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no," Kaitlin moaned as she slowly turned her head to see her husband standing in the doorway.

"Mother fucker!" Jeffrey whined, clutching his bloodied cock.

Jack sprayed his semen, striking Jeffrey in his chest and Jeffrey screamed in rage at the offense.

"He's taking pictures!" Hillary suddenly realized and Tommy smiled as he turned and walked away.

"Get him, God damn it; he's got pictures!" Kaitlin yelled.

"My fucking cock!" Jeffrey whined, again slapping his sister's face.

"You hear me?" Kaitlin screamed. "He's got pictures of us fucking!"

Hillary burst into wails.

Tommy walked out of the apartment and down the stairs, and then cursed himself; he'd seen the clumped up clothing just as he was stepping out of the apartment; he should have grabbed their car keys.

"Oh well, too late now," he said and got into his car.

Chapter 4

Gladys MacElroy answered on the first ring, which meant she'd been sitting at the kitchen table, sipping her herbal tea. She hated the stuff, but her chiropractor swore by the stuff, and Gladys swore Dr. Bestoff was a minor god, so she drank the foul tasting stuff religiously.

"Mom, please open the garage," Tommy asked.

"Well, sure," Gladys said and Tommy smiled as he heard her slippers slapping against the linoleum of her kitchen.

"There," she said, picking up the telephone. "Now what you need..."

"Mom, I'm sick, Kaitlin's busy so I need to come over and get some rest, okay?" he asked as he pulled into the garage.

"Of course," his mother said.

She hung up the telephone when he knocked at the garage/kitchen door.

"Hey," he said and hit the button to lower the garage door.

"Oh, Baby!" Gladys said, feeling his forehead. "You must have a fever of at least a hundred degrees!"

"Here, here, sit down, let's see," she said and opened the medicine cabinet.

Tommy smiled. He was twenty seven, almost twenty eight years old, was six feet two inches tall and weight one hundred and eighty two pounds, mostly muscle. But she would dig out the children's aspirin for him.

Sure enough, she got the bottle of Bayer's orange flavored aspirin and he dutifully took two of them.

"Now, you want some soup, how about some soup? I got that kind, you know, you boil the water, and then you drop that ball in and it kind of melts and next thing you know it's soup. Or I got some..." Gladys said, opening her pantry.

"Sure Mom that sounds great; Dad's computer still in the den?" Tommy said.

He knew she would name every single item in her pantry until he agreed on something to eat, and some chicken noodle soup probably was a good idea.

"Well, yeah, don't know why, it's just sitting there collecting dust; I tried donating it, you know, to that school, but they didn't want it," Gladys said, already pulling out the pot to make his soup.

Tommy went into his father's den. His father had been dead for three years now, a sudden massive heart attack. Tommy could still feel his dad's presence in the room and felt a wave of sadness and weariness overwhelm him.

Tommy pulled the laptop out of the desk drawer, plugged it in and found the fire wire.

His dad had fancied himself a technical wizard, so had what was, three years ago, the latest and greatest equipment.  Thankfully, it was still current enough and Tommy hooked up his cell phone and downloaded the video.

Tommy watched in morbid fascination as the five nude bodies, two of them pudgy, out of shape, one of them bloated and horribly out of shape and two of them very trim and athletic looking writhed and undulated.

Tommy quickly turned down the sound right before Hillary's scream could be heard. He saved the video to his email, his work email, and a third email server he was sure Kaitlin knew nothing about, then saved the image to the laptop's hard drive and shut everything down.

Just then, his cell phone rang. It was Kaitlin's number, so he dropped her into voice mail, and then turned his phone off.

"Here you go, Sweetheart," his mother said, putting the steaming bowl of soup at the table.

The house telephone rang and Gladys walked over to it.

"That's Kaitlin; I'm not here, okay?" Tommy said.

"Hello?" Gladys said. "Kaitlin? No, she's not... Oh! This is Kaitlin! Well, you can hardly blame me, I mean, when's the last time I saw you? I mean, really, you work right down the street at that fancy schmancy lawyer's office but do I ever see you? No I do not.  What? They won't give you thirty minutes come over here for lunch? I mean, I got those microwavable pizza rolls, we could have that; those only take just a couple of minutes heat up, or I got that soup, you know, the kind you heat the water, oh wait, no, I don't have that anymore, I just finished making a pot of that... What? Tommy? No, I haven't seen him either. You see him you tell him his mother's over here, all alone in this house, I swear I could be dead and he'd never know it... What? You try his work? All he ever does is work, never has any time for... Oh, okay, bye."

"Thanks Mom," Tommy chuckled when his mother flashed him a devious little smirk.

He had not realized how hungry he was, but he quickly ate the soup.

"You still hungry? I can fix you some..." Gladys started up again.

"Mom, right now, all I want to do is crawl into bed and crash," Tommy said.

"Oh, okay, what time you want me wake you up? You got work in the morning? I better call your boss," Gladys said as she brought the bowl to the sink and scrubbed it clean before putting it into the dishwasher.

Tommy's room still looked exactly as he had left it and he moved the two high school yearbooks off the bed lay down and was fast asleep in a few minutes.

Then he saw Jack's soiled cock and Kaitlin's slimy anus and heard the thunderous fart and saw the spray of semen from her stretched, raw anus and all the semen on her pussy lips and the semen spilling out of Hillary's angry looking pussy and his soup came rushing back up.

"Oh, poor baby!" his mother gasped as Tommy knelt in front of the commode, emptying his stomach.

"Thanks Mom," he said weakly as she sponged his clammy forehead.

When there was nothing coming out any longer, Tommy again staggered across the hall and lay down on the bed. This time he lapsed into a dreamless sleep.

At the apartment, Kaitlin dug around in the small cabinet, locating the rum and frowning. She hated dark rum and was sure Tommy knew that.  She was sure he knew that and so bought the dark rum, just to irritate her.

"Okay, he's not answering his phone, goes straight to voice mail," a worried looking Hillary announced.

"That mother fucker even fucking BREATHES a word of this shit to Melinda I'll fucking kill him, hear?" Jack barked, now dressed in his uniform.

"Fuck, he shows that shit to Mom, she'll fucking kill us," Chad whined.

"God damn, fucking gets infected," Jeffrey whined, indicating his shriveled penis which was now bandaged, pretty poorly with gauze and white tape.

"Fuck, Jeffrey, all right Jeffrey, we know Jeffrey, your little pee-pee hurts Jeffrey, I'm sorry I bit you Jeffrey, fucking give it a rest Jeffrey," Kaitlin shrilled, pouring herself a tumbler full of the dark rum and mixing a small amount of diet cola into the glass.

"Kizzy says he left about an hour ago; he was sick so she sent him home," Hillary said, dropping her cell phone into her purse.

"I fucking cannot believe this," Kaitlin moaned drinking heavily from the tumbler.

"You know he was sick?" Hillary asked her sister.

"No; he didn't say nothing to me," Kaitlin said, then emptied the glass.

"Vogel, you back from dinner yet?" Deputy Orville Jackson's voice crackled over Jack's shoulder mounted radio.

"Uh yeah, yeah," Jack said.

Orville dispatched him to a domestic disturbance in the Lambert Condominium Community. Jack smirked when Orville gave him the address and opened the door to the apartment.

"Let me guess; the rug munchers are at it again," Jack snickered into the shoulder mounted radio.

The unit was occupied by a lesbian couple, both of whom were trying to break free of their alcoholism. The problem was, they were both prone to outbursts of rage, especially if the other relapsed, and neither one was afraid to pick up chairs or barbells, or knives to lash out at the other.

"Officer Vogel, that is enough," Deputy Jackson warned.

Back in the apartment, it was still a scene of despair for the four siblings.

"Oh, God, oh please, oh God," Kaitlin whined, rocking slowly.

"My fucking cock," Jeffrey whined.

"Dude, say that one more time," Chad threatened.

"Nope, voice mail," Hillary said, again dropping her cell phone into her purse.

"Mom finds out about this, we're dead," Kaitlin said.

Chapter 5

After three days, Tommy felt almost completely recovered.  He had been fed, pampered, loved by his mother and was now thinking of returning to work.

He was at the kitchen table, eating a grilled cheese and tomato sandwich, and eating a bowl of homemade split pea soup when there was a harsh knock at the door.

"Now, who in the world..." Gladys muttered to herself as she tightened the sash on her housecoat.

"Afternoon, ma'am," Jack barked when Gladys opened the door.

"What, Jack?" Gladys snapped, not intimidated by his uniform or badge.

"Seen Tommy?" Jack barked, still trying to intimidate her.

"No, and I don't care for your attitude," Gladys snapped.  "Want me to call your mother?"

"Won't be necessary, ma'am," Jack intoned, trying to peer around Gladys into the darkened interior of the house.  "Looking for Tommy; his wife's worried about him."

"Uh huh, tell her, she's that worried about him, she could come here herself and ask me about him instead of sending a dumb ass monkey in a police uniform, but he's probably at work, ever think of that?" Gladys said. "Now, if there's nothing else..."

And she slammed the door in Jack's face.

"Kaitlin's looking for you," Gladys reported. "So, that the one she was having an affair with?"

"Mom!" Tommy said, shocked.

"What? Call me late at night, need a place to stay, don't want to talk to your wife, it adds up to one thing," Gladys said. "Now, you want some pie? I made that banana cream pie you like so much."

"Sure, Mom, let me finish up this soup," Tommy chuckled.

"Hello?" Gladys said, answering the telephone. "Well, hello Kaitlin. Just saw that friend of yours, Jack Vogel, said you're looking for Tommy; you try his work? Well when's the last time you saw him? He hasn't been home in three days? Why? No, no, he doesn't come home for three days, there's got to be a reason now what is it? Oh I'm sure you do know now what is it?"

Gladys hung up and got out the banana cream pie.

"Big piece or...?" Gladys asked, already cutting a substantial piece of pie for him.

At the apartment, Kaitlin resisted the urge to throw her cell phone; her mother had said she was not going to pay for another phone, and glared at her two brothers.

"He's there, I just know it; little pussy always runs home to his mommy when it gets too hard for him," she sneered.

"Want us to go over there?" Chad asked, flexing his non-existent muscles.

"And do what?" Kaitlin sneered and searched the refrigerator again for any alcohol that might be hiding in the cool interior.

"Get her to tell us where Tommy is," Jeffrey suggested.

"Whatever; she'd kick your ass before you even got halfway in her house," Hillary sneered. "Now, let's see..." Hillary punched in a number and waited.

"Clark's" John Clark, Kizzy's father and owner of Clark's Drive-In answered.

"Uh yes, hi, is Thomas MacElroy there, please?" Hillary asked pleasantly.

"No, no, he just called, said he'll be back tonight," John said, looking over next week's schedule.




Acquisition



"About what time, please?" Hillary asked.

"'Bout four, four 'til closing," John said. "Now, if there's nothing else?"

"No, thank you," Hillary said and ended the call.

"He'll be at Clark's tonight," she announced to the three others.

"Hey, Jack?" Kaitlin said into her cell phone. "Found him; he'll be back at work tonight. Yeah, Hillary just called. Oh, might want to take Chad and Jeffrey with you; we need to get that phone."

"How you know he hasn't made copies of it?" Hillary asked.

"Computer's right there," Kaitlin said, pointing. "And I got the cable in the bedroom; can't do anything with it without the cable."

"Oh, okay, aw shit!" Hillary said, glancing at her watch.  "Aw shit, I'm going to be late; you! You drive me to work, come on."

"Here, you take her," Chad said, handing his car keys to Jeffrey.

"Why me, you do it," Jeffrey said, pushing the keys back to Chad.

"Because, your little Mr. Happy's all out of commission," Chad smirked, unzipping his jeans. "Mine's not."

"No, Chad, I don't feel like it," Kaitlin snarled, pulling her filthy bathrobe tighter around her bulk.

Within a few moments, though, she was sucking his cock hungrily while he played with her pendulous breasts.

"After we get that phone, I know we're going to have to cool it for a while," Chad said.

"Yeah," Kaitlin moaned. "But we got to get that fucking phone!"

"We'll get it, don't worry," Chad said, confident.

Chapter 6

Jack cursed as his silly little girlfriend smiled happily and waved to him as he drove past. Really, did Melinda Fontenot honestly think he was satisfied with her puny little blow jobs? She wasn't even very good at sucking cock, barely able to get more than half his five inches into her mouth. Both Kaitlin and Hillary could swallow him down to the root.

Jack had even tried to get Melinda to see that anal sex wasn't the same as sex; she certainly had the ass for it. But Melinda flatly refused, would not even entertain the idea of it. Neither Hillary or Kaitlin ever refused him a little bit of their ass.

Jack hit the siren for a short blast and Melinda laughed as she skidded to a stop next to a customer's car.

"Yeah, that's my boyfriend," Melinda said proudly to the customer, who had absolutely no interest in whom the girl was dating.

Jack drove around the rear of the Drive-In and smiled as he spotted Tommy MacElroy's car.

"Yeah, fucker's here," he said into his cell phone when Jeffrey picked up. "Ass hole gets off about ten, ten thirty; he makes the night deposit Melinda says."

"Good so we'll see you there," Jeffrey said, again resisting the urge to scratch his penis.

"He's there," Jeffrey said to Chad. "About ten, ten thirty."

"Look, don't hurt him, just get his phone," Hillary said. 

"Fuck you, fucking needs his ass kicked," Jeffrey spat, indicating his crotch. "Got it coming, hear?"

Kaitlin finished her drink and giggled slightly as a belch escaped.

"Right Kaitlin?" Hillary wheedled. "They don't need to hurt him, right?"

"Whatever," Kaitlin said and decided that she might want to take a shower if Tommy would be coming home soon. In Kaitlin's mind, if Tommy did not have evidence of her infidelity, he would have to come home.

It did not occur to Chad, Jeffrey or Kaitlin that Hillary seemed to care more for Tommy's well-being than his own wife did.

At the drive-in, Tommy smiled at Kizzy when he caught her staring at him with her love-sick eyes again. She'd been a year behind him and Kaitlin when they went to St. Thomas Aquinas and from the moment she entered the school had made no secret of her crush on him. But he'd had eyes only for Kaitlin Monroe.  He followed Kaitlin like a love-sick calf while Kizzy had followed him like a love-sick calf.

"Glad you're back," Kizzy finally said, blushing hotly.

"Glad to be back," Tommy agreed and called out. "Order up!"

"Thanks," Theresa Smith said, grabbing the tray and balancing the four cheeseburgers and four large chili cheese fries.

"No drinks?" Tommy asked, looking at the tray.

"Said they had their own," Theresa said.

"Uh huh, better let me take that," Tommy said. "Which car?"

"The white Cadillac; why? What's up?" Theresa asked.

"That much food and no drinks?" Tommy said, coming around the counter and pulling on his coat. "Not saying they would, but a lot of times they grab the tray and drive off."

She watched with interest as Tommy carried the tray to the car.

"Hi guys," Tommy smiled at the four young men. "Twenty eight forty, please."

"Uh, yeah, uh, where's the girl?" the driver asked, looking around him toward the building.

"Tray was too heavy, all that food," Tommy smiled easily. "Didn't want her falling busting her butt. Twenty eight forty please."

The fact that the four men had to rifle through their pockets and scrounge together the money told Tommy his hunch had been correct. They were four college boys that were out, drinking too much beer, smoking a few too many joints, and had gotten the munchies. They saw the Drive-in and decided to grab a bite and stick the waitress with their bill.

John Clark didn't charge the girl for drive-offs, but a few too many drive-offs and the girl would be looking for a new job.

"Thanks, guys; y'all come back, hear?" Tommy said as he took the twenty nine dollars.

"Uh, change?" the driver asked.

"Really?" Tommy asked. "Not even going to give her a big sixty cent tip?"

"She wants a tip, she should have carried the tray herself," the driver sneered.

"I'll send her out with the change," Tommy said.

Tommy handed Theresa sixty pennies and told her to bring it out to the kids.

"They were going to stiff me, weren't they?" she asked him.

"That's a big ten four," he affirmed.

"Wow, what ass holes," she said bitterly as she skated out the door.

"Live and learn," Kizzy smiled.

"Two smokehouse, no pickles on one, large regular fries," Melinda hollered out as she skidded to a stop next to the soda fountain.

"Got it," Harvey said, eyes glued to Melinda's shapely rear as the girl swiveled back and forth to maintain her balance.

"She is a cutey, ain't she?" Tommy muttered to Harvey.

"Affirmative, sir!" Harvey said.

"Order up," Harvey yelled a minute later.

"Thanks," Melinda said, grabbed the tray and zipped out into the bitter cold.

"Two fish, no tartar, cheese fries add jalapenos," Theresa called out, whizzing in and stopping just short of the drink machine.

"How'd those boys like their pennies?" Tommy asked.

"Dropped them on the ground," Theresa growled. "Losers."

"Oh well, there money," Tommy shrugged.

At ten oh five, Tommy sent everyone home, even though Harvey offered to stick around to help.

"Brother, I got this," Tommy smiled and locked the door behind the Marine.

A block away, Jack parked his cruiser, reached onto the floorboard of his car and pulled on a regular sweatshirt.  He also pulled on a ski mask, then slipped out of the car and walked over to where Chad and Jeffrey sat in Chad's SUV.

"Come on," he barked.

"Fuck, why we got to walk, fucking cold out here," Jeffrey whined, pulling on his ski mask.

"He sees your SUV, think he's coming out, dumb ass," Jack snapped. "God damn, think I want to walk? Fucking right it's cold out here, but boo hoo."

Inside of the building, Tommy smiled when the heat cut off at ten minutes after ten; Kizzy said she had bitched at her dad about how cold the building got right after closing. Obviously that's what it took; Daddy's little girl complaining about the cold.

Tommy made quick work of checking the receipts, wrote out the deposit slip and prepared to leave the building. The last thing he checked was his .32 and made for the door.

Just as he stepped outside, two masked figures grabbed his arms and a third one approached.

Tommy smiled, recognizing Jeffrey's ridiculous reindeer ski mask.

"All we want is the..." Jeffrey said, trying to disguise his voice.

"Uh huh," Tommy said and fired one slug into Jeffrey's shoulder, knocking the boy to the ground.

Tommy had no intention of killing Jeffrey, although he would

Shed no tears if Jeffrey did die.

"Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" Chad screamed and dropped to the ground, covering his head with his arms.

Jack reached for his service revolver. Tommy grimaced but knew he had no choice.

Jack was an ass hole, had always been an ass hole, and would always be the kind of ass hole that would never accept responsibility for his own actions. Even if Tommy did survive being shot at close range, and Jack went to prison for it, Jack would get out of prison bent on exacting revenge.

If Tommy did not survive being shot at close range and Jack did go to prison, Jack would get out and exact his revenge on Tommy's mother.

"Hate to do this but..." Tommy muttered and put a bullet in Jack's right eye.

Then Tommy pulled out his cell phone, the cell phone that the three masked assailants had been intent on taking, and called 911.

Chapter 7

Tommy MacElroy would have smiled, would have laughed; his mother, never one of his biggest supporters, was absolutely incensed that he would actually shoot one of her sons.

The fact that he shot her son while her son was attempting to rob him completely escaped Patricia Monroe's mind.

Yes Tommy would have laughed, except for the fact that he'd had to kill a man. The guilt was overwhelming and every time he closed his eyes he heard the 'bang' of the gun and saw the look of disbelief in what he could see of Jack's face, saw Jack spin to the right and fall to the ground.

Yes, Tommy knew he'd had no choice; even Sheriff Dick Davis had said Jack's gun was in Jack's hand at the time of his death. Tommy still felt guilty, though. All of his life, he'd seen movies where the good guy shoots the bad guy, the bad guy deserves to die, and Tommy had cheered for the good guy and had seen the justice in the hero's actions. What the movie never shows you is the trouble the hero has sleeping afterward.

Both Chad and Jeffrey were being tight-lipped about why they'd had ski masks on, why they'd waited outside of the Clark's Drive-In building. Both Kaitlin and Hillary were likewise feigning ignorance

Donald Pellichet, father of Debbie Dublachon's boyfriend, DJ, had offered his services to the MacElroy family, pro bono as Marnie Vogel, Jack's mother, was suing Tommy over the death of her son. Patricia Monroe likewise began proceedings against the MacElroys' until Parker Johnson of Johnson; Johnson and Lambert pointed out that Jeffrey had been injured during the commission of a crime and therefore, had very little chance of recouping any damages against the MacElroys.

"The Vogels have no chance either; you acted in self-defense, but I really cannot see you having to incur thousands of dollars in legal fees just to fight this frivolous lawsuit," Donald smiled sympathetically.

"How much you charge for a divorce?" Tommy asked.

"Oh, thank God," Gladys said.

"Mom, need you to go wait out there; why don't you ask that girl Ethel get you one of them coffees?" Tommy gently asked.

"What? What you mean, 'one of them coffees'?" Gladys asked.

"They got one of them machines, makes them one at a time and you can pick what kind you want, real strong, or even weaker than that stuff you call coffee," Tommy smiled as he helped Gladys out of her chair.

"You shush; my coffee is just fine; your father loved it," Gladys fussed as she pulled the office door shut behind her.

Tommy chuckled as he heard his mother telling Ethel, the young receptionist all about his father.

"All right, Mr. Pellichet, this is why those three were waiting out there for me," Tommy said and put his cell phone on the man's desk. "The three of them, Jack, the guy I killed, and Kaitlin's two brothers are the stars of this."

Donald's face tightened slightly; that was the only emotion that crossed the man's dark features as he watched the sordid activity.

"And the two women they're screwing are my wife and her sister; yes, Chad and Jeffrey's sisters. So, I want a divorce based on infidelity; I also want..." Tommy said as the short video clip finished playing.

"Louisiana's a 'No Fault' state; you don't need to prove

Infidelity," Donald interrupted Tommy.

"I have been eating that family's shit for damned near all my life," Tommy said forcefully. "Countless fucking years of not being good enough, rich enough, smart enough. I know Louisiana's a 'No Fault' state but I want a little pay back, all right?"

"Got it; going to need you to get me a list of all marital assets,"," Donald Pellichet said, pulling out a standardized form he and his partners had devised.

"But how much is this going to..." Tommy asked.

"She's the one giving up the booty; let her pay for it," Donald smiled. Then he fixed Tommy with a hard look.

"She is the only one giving up the booty, right? You don't have you a little honey on the side, huh?" he asked.

"No, of course not," Tommy said.

"Boy, better not be lying to me; I get your wife up there and start doing hammer time on her and find out you got you two or three little girls you playing house with..." Donald demanded.

"Sir, I promise, I am not playing house, playing doctor, playing you show me yours I'll show you mine with anyone," Tommy smiled.

"You make any copies of this?" Donald asked, indicating Tommy's phone.

"Here, brought a copy for you, just in case," Tommy smiled pulling a disc out of his shirt pocket.

"You know how much one of them machines costs?" Gladys asked, just opening the door and barging into the office.  "I told that girl we'd have to be insane pay that much, here, got you one, she said it's the strongest they make, hope you like it, probably paint your liver black, I swear," Gladys said, pressing a cup of coffee into Tommy's hand.

"Thanks Mom," Tommy smiled.

"I mean, seriously, who in their right mind pays that much for a coffee machine?" Gladys asked, taking a seat.

"But do you like the coffee?" Donald asked, also amused.

"Well, yeah, it's good, she got me this one, oh what's it called, smooth something and it's not too strong, not too weak, Y'all have that French Vanilla cream I added that to it," Gladys agreed. "No, no, I didn't put nothing in yours, don't worry, but it's real good."

"Then, Ma'am, it's worth every penny we paid for it," Donald smiled.

"I like him," Gladys admitted as they drove away from the office of Richards, Pellichet, and Jones.

At their office, Parker and Brandon Johnson listened to the highly implausible story that Hillary and Kaitlin Monroe had concocted for why their brothers and Officer Jack Vogel had lain in wait for Tommy MacElroy. Finally Parker held up his hand.

"Okay, now, let's start again, but this time y'all will tell us the truth, huh?" he said.

Kaitlin and Hillary looked at each other, then Kaitlin started again with the same tale they'd woven. Parker and Brandon looked at each other and frowned.

Chad Monroe sat in the Bender Police Department lock-up; his brother twiddled his thumbs in the DeGarde Police Department lock-up.

Jeffrey had been brought to St. Elizabeth's Trauma Center, to have his injured shoulder tended to. This was fortunate for him; in preparing him for surgery, an inexperienced nurse's assistant did not realize that only his shirt and sweater needed to be cut away; she cut away every stitch of clothing he had on. A surgical nurse noticed the amateurish bandage someone had applied to his penis and removed THE GAUZE, seeing the infection that had set in. Jeffrey lay in a hospital bed for twenty four hours, then was transferred to DeGarde's lock-up, due to DeGarde's lock-up being closer to St. Elizabeth's Trauma Center.

"Dude, why I can't stay at the hospital?" he whined to Sheriff Bob Chastaine. "I'm injured."

"Not life-threatening," the police officer shrugged.

At Clark's Drive-In, Tommy and John caught up with what Tommy had missed in his nearly one week of absence; four days of illness and two days of running around taking care of the legal matters.

"Yeah, that little bubble head, the blonde, one that was dating that cop you, well, you know, she..." John Clark said.

"Melinda Fontenot?" Tommy asked.

"Yeah, her. Anyway, she quit, said she wasn't going to work here if we wasn't going to fire you," John shrugged.

"Fire... You're not going to..." Tommy asked.

"Son, them three punks was fixing rob me, I mean you," John said, face hard. "Would have killed all three of them punk ass scumbags that had been me."

"Hey," Kizzy said, skating into her father's office and grabbing Tommy in a fierce hug. "Oh, my God, when I heard you'd been robbed, I swear to God, my heart just stopped; you can ask..."

"Hey, Honey? We're talking," John said.

"Uh huh, right, whatever," Kizzy said, gave Tommy another squeeze, and then skated back out again.

"Uh, Son, you uh, you might have noticed my Kizzy, well she uh," John said, face turning redder and redder.

"She uh, she kind of sort of has a little bit of a crush on me?" Tommy asked, getting to his feet and putting on an apron.

"Yeah, I mean, hell, done told her you're married and uh," John said, getting to his feet and pulling his own stained apron off.

"Welcome back, stranger," Nancy said, dropping a few more patties onto the grill, pre-cooking them for the dinner rush.

"Stranger, huh?" Tommy smiled, practiced eye sweeping the parking lot, the canopy and the interior at the same time. "When it comes to strange..."

"None stranger than you," Nancy cackled, BEATING HIM TO THE PUNCH.

Monica, another blonde waitress, regarded Tommy with almost open-mouthed awe. Tommy looked at her; she had worked at the drive-in for nearly a year now, but he'd never noticed her having any interest in him before.

Finally Monica blurted out, "What happened? I mean, all we

Heard was these three guys tried to rob you and

You..."

"All I know is, I step outside, and two guys grab me and a third

Guy starts reaching for me and I shoot him then the second

Guy pulls a gun on me and I knew it was either him or me,"

Tommy said, repeating what he'd said over and over. "Then,

Turns out I know all of them, believe that?"

"Were you scared?" Monica whispered, still in awe.

"Happened so damned fast, no, really didn't have time to be

Scared," Tommy admitted. "Then, minute I sit down, it hits

Me; I just killed a man."

"Huh," Monica whispered, blue eyes wide.

"Customers out there, not in here," John barked gruffly and

Monica gave a little yelp and skated out into the bitter cold.

"Tommy MacElroy, you're my hero," Nancy whispered, imitating Monica's wide eyed delivery.

"Shut up," Tommy smirked and got busy with the hundreds of menial tasks that have to be performed in a fast food restaurant.

"Son, next time, give them the money," John said quietly. "Hear? Nothing in that bag worth dying for; just give them the money."

"Uh huh," Tommy said, not telling his boss that it wasn't the bank bag the three were after.

"Seriously," Nancy said, under her breath when John Clark left the building. "It ain't your money; just give it to them, hear?"

Outside of the apartment building, Theresa White smiled. She'd already made the other four deliveries on her list; this had been the first one she'd attempted; a cute red head neighbor had told her that the target drove a metallic gray or silver Lexus. Finally, the Lexus was in the driveway with a red Lexus sitting behind it.

"Let's go, Sister," Theresa said to herself.

Inside the apartment, Kaitlin and Hillary were sharing a joint; Hillary had scored some really good weed from the manager of the electronics department at Abdul's Department Store; the department she worked in.

"Fuck, what the fuck now?" Kaitlin snapped when a knock sounded at the door.




Acquisition



She peered through the peephole and saw a blonde woman that stood smiling. The woman even waved in greeting when she saw the peephole darken slightly.

"Hi!" the woman chirped when Kaitlin opened the door. "Kaitlin? Oh, I know, you probably don't remember me, I went to St. Thomas with you, well, not with you, I was like two grades ahead of you, no, wait, only one grade, yeah, one grade but anyway, hi, how are you?" 

"Um, I'm uh I'm fine," Kaitlin stammered, swinging the door wide open, blinking in the late afternoon sun.

"Damn, shut the door, huh? Letting all the cold in," Hillary complained.

"Anyway, Kaitlin, my God, what happened to you? Put on a couple of pounds there, huh? Oh well, having kids will do that to you, am I right?" Theresa continued.

"I uh, don't have any..." Kaitlin said, beginning to get annoyed with this woman.

"And, you've been served," Theresa said, handed Kaitlin a manila envelope, quickly snapped her photograph and scampered down the stairs.

"I've been..." Kaitlin wondered, looking at the manila envelope in her hand.

"God damn, what, huh? Cold as a mother... Oh shit, that what I think..." Hillary said.

"I've been served," Kaitlin mumbled, looking at the envelope.

"Aw no, no, this ain't fucking happening," Hillary said, pulling Kaitlin into the apartment and closing the door.

They sat at the kitchen table, reading through the documents. Kaitlin understood the papers in her hands, she just could not comprehend that Tommy was actually seeking a divorce from her. She felt absolutely numb as she looked at the pages.

"Infidelity," Hillary said.

"What?" Kaitlin asked dumbly.

"He's claiming infidelity," Hillary pointed out.

"Well, his lawyer's an ass hole; this is a no fault state, all we need is..." Kaitlin mumbled looking where Hillary was pointing.

"Don't you have to have proof of... Oh holy fucking shit," Hillary gasped.

"Well, yeah but even with... Oh holy fucking shit he can play that in court," Kaitlin gasped.

"He does that..." Hillary moaned.

At his home, Parker Johnson smirked as Erica, his twenty nine year old wife staggered down the hall, zapped on several drinks and a few pills. She was an empty headed blonde with pneumatic breasts and a willing womb. So far, they'd managed to have two daughters and she thought she might be pregnant again. It was hard to tell, though. Her periods were often sporadic due to her diet method of binge eating, and then purging.

"Meester Parker, where you wife, eh?" Sandra, the Latin nanny they'd hired asked, smiling as she unzipped her skirt.

"She's down the hall, why?" Parker smiled, and then cursed as his cell phone rang.

"God damn it, what now?" Parker sighed as he saw Kaitlin's phone number in the display.

Chapter 8

Parker Johnson sighed, not bothering to disguise his annoyance with Kaitlin Monroe. He had already determined, and his brother Brandon Johnson agreed, that when her internship was over, Johnson, Johnson and Lambert would not be offering Kaitlin Monroe an Associate Position with their firm. As prestigious as the name Monroe might be, so far, Kaitlin had proven to be a huge disappointment.

Parker's sigh stopped Kaitlin in mid-sentence and she looked at her supervisor. Parker was busily staring at the ceiling. Then she looked at Parker's Administrative Assistant; she never could remember the girl's name, and the red head with the obviously surgically enhanced breasts was just staring at her stenographer's pad, waiting for Kaitlin to continue.

"I, uh, is there something wrong?" Kaitlin finally asked.

"Ms. Monroe, I graduated third in my class, third out of two hundred and ninety three," Parker said flatly.

"Wow," Debbie Dees, Parker's AA said, noticeably impressed.

"That's um, that's truly..." Kaitlin agreed.

"So why in God's name do you think I'm stupid?" Parker asked.

"I uh, I don't uh, Mr. Johnson; I don't think you're stupid," Kaitlin stammered, blushing hotly.

"You must," or you wouldn't keep wasting my time or the firm's time with these stories of yours," Parker said forcefully, causing both Debbie and Kaitlin to shrink back.

"One more time, Ms. Monroe, one more time," Parker snarled, his anger becoming visible. "Why. Is. Tommy MacElroy. Divorcing. You? Why has he filed a restraining order against you and against Hillary and Patricia Monroe?"

He stood up and Debbie dutifully got to her feet as well. Parker turned and looked out the window at his 1972 Corvette. 

The automobile was a beast; he could push the accelerator down and watch the speedometer go up and the gas gauge go down in almost perfect synchronization. His wife had offered a rare opinion when he brought it home; she had asked if it was a practical car with two children; there was no back seat.

"Ms. Monroe, would you feel more comfortable? Would it help if it was just you and me in here, no Debbie?" Parker asked, trying to be a little more compassionate.

"I can leave if you'd like," Debbie offered, smiling to Kaitlin.

"Or maybe it's me, huh?" Parker asked. "Brandon says I can be a little overbearing. Would you prefer to just, you and Debbie, just the two of you having a chat?"

Since Kaitlin held Debbie in very low esteem, she didn't see how it would help to have the girl leave the room. And the thought of having to sit in the room with just the red head didn't encourage her much either.

Kaitlin closed her eyes and prayed to a deity she had very little regard of for help.

"He caught me fucking that cop, the one he killed," Kaitlin admitted. "It was me and my sister and a couple of guys n and he walked in and caught us."

"Finally," Parker thought as he watched Debbie's chest wiggle and wobble as she jotted down Kaitlin's words.

"And the restraining order?" he prompted when it became apparent that Kaitlin would not be more forthcoming.

"I uh, me and my mother and my sister? We been trying to get him to drop the charges against Chad and Jeffrey," Kaitlin went on, still holding her eyes shut.

Again, Parker had to prompt for more information.

"And why were Chad and Jeffrey trying to rob Mr. MacElroy?" he asked. "Surely, since you all divided up your late father's insurance there was no need for the, what, two hundred and sixty nine dollars in that bag?"

"They uh, Kaitlin's face went beet red and Parker smirked; she still had her eyes tightly clamped shut.

"They uh, they weren't after the bag," she admitted. "They were after Tommy's phone; it had the video of me and Jack fucking and..."

"Do you have a copy of that video?" Parker asked, mildly wondering how much redder Kaitlin's face could get.

"No, no, we uh, we were hoping to get to it before he had time to download it," Kaitlin said, finally opening her eyes and looking over at Debbie who was scribbling on her pad.

At his office, Donald Pellichet chuckled as he saw Parker's office phone number on his display.

"Donald Pellichet here," he intoned.

"Oh, of course, we'll be happy to share that video with you," Donald confirmed the existence of the video.

He waited for a beat.

"At the mediation," he continued.

"You cannot withhold..." Parker sputtered, enraged that the black man, and therefore, inferior man, in Parker's eyes, would not immediately acquiesce to his demands.

"Tell you what, Mr. Johnson, you have your client divulge all financial records, including her inheritance from the late Harold Monroe's estate and we'll send you a copy of..." Donald said and suddenly found himself speaking to a dial tone.

Kaitlin again wondered why, since she knew she would be receiving an offer to join Johnson, Johnson and Lambert at the end of the semester, why she was not allowed to use the third office that had been vacated when Sonny Lambert had been dismissed. She looked at the other intern, a smart, energetic and completely flat chested girl and smirked. 

Both Johnson brothers had a real penchant for women with large breasts which meant that Frances DeSalvo, no matter how hard she worked, would be flat out of luck.

Kaitlin giggled to herself at her pun; the flat girl would be flat out of luck. Then she frowned as her phone rang again. The number was for TAB Properties; they'd called her three times already, letting her know that Tommy MacElroy had not paid that month's rent.

"Yes?" she asked in a peeved voice.

Frances looked up; annoyed. Parker Johnson had let them know he frowned on them receiving personal calls or sending out text messages while they were on his time. In fact, it was his policy that they leave their cell phones in their automobiles while they were at the office.

"Fine, damn it," Kaitlin snapped, ended the call and got to her feet.

Kaitlin did not bother to 'lock' her computer, which Parker insisted be done, even for bathroom visits, didn't even bother closing out the files she was researching, just walked out of the cramped cubicle toward Parker's office.

Kaitlin seriously considered ignoring the restraining order and driving down to Clark's Drive-In to thrash Tommy MacElroy. She and her mother had purposefully gotten everything in her name so that Tommy would be dependant on her, so that Tommy would know who was in charge. But the thought that he had not paid that month's rent truly rankled Kaitlin.

"Need to go on break," Kaitlin informed Debbie, Parker's AA.

"Break's at three thirty," Debbie said, not looking up from her On-line game.

"I'm not asking..." Kaitlin hissed at the imbecile and lumbered out of the office.

"Where the hell does she think she's going?" Parker asked.

"Break," Debbie answered, thrusting her chest out for his benefit.

"Break?" Parker asked, pursing his lips tightly.

At First DeGarde Bank, Kaitlin waited for the teller to print out the check for that month's rent, plus the late fees the management company was charging.

"I cannot believe," Kaitlin hissed to herself, incensed that Tommy was causing her such inconveniences.

At the TAB Properties office, Anita Sanchez pleasantly accepted the check, not divulging to Kaitlin Monroe that she had been in the process of filing an Eviction Notice.

"Ma'am?" Anita asked as Kaitlin lurched toward the door.

"Yes?" Kaitlin asked the flunky behind the desk.

"In the future, if you're going to be late, please just call the office and let us know; we'll be happy to work something out with you," Anita said.

Kaitlin did not answer, just left the office.

"Bitch, Anita muttered under her breath and hit 'Cancel' on the Eviction Notice.

Kaitlin did not bother going back to the office; just drove to her apartment.

Inside, the apartment's heat was on full force, rendering the small quarters almost stifling. There was a foul odor from the several fast food restaurant boxes and bags that covered the counter. The small kitchen garbage can was overflowing. Kaitlin resolved to clean up; the smell was getting to be too much even for her.

But first Kaitlin poured herself a drink, a stiff cola and whiskey.

After the third such drink, she no longer felt up to gathering together all the bags and boxes and no longer felt like braving the frigid cold outside.

In front of the apartment building, the mailman used one of his keys to open the rear of the mailboxes and made quick work of stuffing the mail into the corresponding boxes. He grimaced in empathy as he spotted the St. Elizabeth Utilities Company's envelope for Apartment 2A; it had the red rim around the envelope, meaning it was that recipient's last warning.

St. Elizabeth Utilities sent the first bill out in an envelope with a cheerful yellow rimmed envelope. A week later, if they'd not received payment either by mail or on-line, they would send out their blue rimmed envelope with a friendly little note that said 'we're blue that you may have forgotten about us.'

The red rimmed one went out as a final warning; in two days time the utilities would be shut off. Then that customer would have to pay the existing charges plus late fees and am reconnection fee to have their utilities turned back on.

As it was, whoever K. Monroe was, he or she would have to pay late fees. The mailman smiled as he put a clothing catalogue into the slot for the really cute girl that lived in Apartment 3A. He'd met Angela Brandt a few times and she always flirted with him. He was married, very happily married, but it was still a bit of an ego boost to have such a cutie pie flirt with him.

As if she knew he was there, Angela appeared next to him.

"Hi there, handsome," Angela said. "Please tell me you don't have any more bills for me; I just do not need any more bills."

"Nope; whatever this is," he smiled and handed her a flat package and her catalogue.

"Oh, I bet, yes! See? It's from Japan," she said excitedly. "It's a CD of all these wild ass dance songs."

"See you, man it's cold out here, huh?" she chirped and dashed up the stairs.

It was the music booming through the floor above her that roused Kaitlin from her drunken slumber.

The foul stench again assailed her nostrils and Kaitlin had a splitting headache on top of her discomfort. The heater was still running at full blast and she could barely breathe in the stifling heat.

Kaitlin turned the knob of the thermostat down to eighty degrees and the heater finally whined to a stop. Then she dug out a large black plastic bag and swept all the fast food containers into the bag.

A few hundred roaches scurried out from underneath the refuse and Kaitlin screamed in indignity and cursed Tommy MacElroy.

"God damn, guess I'm going to have to make two fucking trips," Kaitlin cursed and dragged the first bag out of the apartment.

On the way back from the dumpster, Kaitlin checked the mail, saw the envelope from St. Elizabeth Utilities and fought down the urge to scream in rage. Tommy had not bothered to pay the Electric bill either.

She snarled in rage when she saw the four hundred and forty seven dollar and eighteen cent charge.

"Oh, that mother fucker is going to pay for this fucking shit," Kaitlin vowed as she stomped up the stairs.

The second trip to the dumpster over, Kaitlin fixed a fourth drink, and then realized she was starving. Kaitlin did not bother checking the refrigerator; there had been no food in there earlier.

"Aw, who the fuck?" Kaitlin snarled as a knock sounded at her door.

"Hey Girl," Hillary, her younger sister said and wrinkled her nose at the odor of the apartment. "Shit, tried calling you, goes to that 'we're sorry but the number you've called is no longer in service' shit; you're phone not working?"

"You. Are. Fucking. Kidding. Me," Kaitlin screamed in rage.

At the diner, Tommy and Nancy traded their usual banter back and forth as they worked the grill.

"I got to tell you, you are looking a lot better these days," Nancy commented.

"Yeah, losing three hundred pounds will do that for you," Tommy said and looked up as they both heard Kizzy slam into a wall.

"Baby, you okay?" Nancy asked, helping the girl to her feet.

"Did he just say...?" Kizzy whispered to Nancy while rubbing her shoulder where she had smacked into the wall.

"What?" Nancy asked, looking at the floor to make sure Kizzy had not slipped in any spilled soda or other hazards.

"Did he say he's getting a divorce?" Kizzy whispered hotly.

Said he lost three hundred..." Nancy agreed, determining that there was nothing on the floor that would have caused Kizzy to slip.

"Shit!" Kizzy squealed. "Now I forgot what them guys wanted!"

"What was that all about?" Tommy asked as Kizzy whizzed back out to the frigid air.

"Don't know," Nancy admitted.

The two customers laughed good-naturedly and repeated their order, Kizzy dashed back into the kitchen and yelled her order and managed to stop in front of the soda machine without crashing.

Tommy started to prepare the burgers and frowned as his cell phone chirped.

"Need to get that?" Nancy asked, ready to take over.

Yeah, it's my mom," Tommy agreed.

Order up!" Nancy yelled as Tommy made his way to the small office.

What's up, Mom?" he asked.

"Your mother just called me; how much you think that Mr. Pellichet charge get me a restraining order? I swear, the language that woman used! And she calls herself a Christian? I hardly think so," his mother said.

Before she could take a breath, Tommy asked, "What did she want?"

"Something about you haven't paid any bills and I was like 'why should he pay any bills?He doesn't live there any more' and she said..." Gladys replied.

"Mom, I am so sorry you had to put up with that; I'll talk to Mr. Pellichet tomorrow," Tommy promised.

I mean, I expect Kaitlin to be a foul mouthed little hussy and let me tell you, she hasn't disappointed me yet; that's for sure," Gladys went on.

Tommy let his mother talk for another three minutes. Three minutes might not sound like a lot of time, unless you're the one being held hostage on a cell phone, but Tommy smiled as Nancy stuck her head in the door of the office. He made a 'yak-yak' motion with his hand and she smiled back, nodded in understanding and left.

Mom, Mom, I am at work, okay?" Tommy finally gently reminded her.

Oh, okay, I swear, you and your father; working so much is what killed him, you know," Gladys said.

Love you Mom, see you wow, see you in three hours," Tommy said and ended the call.

Any man's good to his momma's a good man," Nancy said as she slapped a unhealthy amount of chili on to a bun.

"Uh huh, who's that for?" he asked, not seeing any of the waitresses around.

"Me," Nancy admitted, sliding two patties onto the bun.

"Thought you were on that Weight Watcher's stuff?" Tommy asked.

"Uh huh and fucking starving to death too," Nancy said and ate half the burger in two bites.

"Damn, chew huh?" Tommy chided her. "Take your time, chew it ten times on each side bet you'd get filled up a lot faster."

"Hey, Tommy, chew on this, huh?" Nancy said and stuck her quite plump rear end at him.

"Wow, feed a family of four on that one, huh?" Tommy teased her and watched as Theresa came barreling in, laden down with trays.

"Aw you ass hole," Nancy laughed and finished her burger.

"Shame about Melinda, huh?" Nancy asked as she stepped back behind the grill.

Yeah, hate whenever we lose one, especially a good one," Tommy agreed.

Chapter 9

Conference Room C in Johnson, Johnson & Lambert was were the two parties met; Donald knew that this had been a power play on Parker's part but shrugged.

"That's fine, let him pay for the coffee and bagels," he smiled at Ethel Youngblood, his receptionist.

"Wear your green tie," Ethel reminded him.

He laughed.

"I am so glad Penny decided to hire you," he told her.

"Uh huh or you'd have never met my momma, right?" Ethel agreed.

In Conference Room C, Parker, Debbie, Kaitlin, and Patricia Monroe sat and waited; Donald had known, if they had arrived ten minutes early, Parker would make them wait until ten minutes after ten before ushering them into the conference room. So, he tried to time it so that they would arrive at ten oh one.

"And you make sure he drops the charges against your brothers; I cannot believe...." Patricia hissed at Kaitlin.

At ten oh two, Cindy St. George, the firm's lobby area receptionist, knocked smartly on the door then opened it. Parker rose to his feet, his face mirroring his annoyance.

His annoyance dissolved into confusion as four females, dressed in dark business suits entered, then two young men dressed in dark suits entered, pushing a cart with a television set and DVD player.

"What is..." Parker asked as the females took seats at the tables and the two men found an outlet and hooked up the television.

Then Ethel dressed in dark business jacket and skirt, with a dark green blouse entered and finally Donald Pellichet and Tommy MacElroy entered, both dressed in dark suits with dark green ties.




Acquisition



"What is all of this?" Parker demanded.

"What do you mean?" Donald asked. "Is this your first divorce?"

"No, this is not my first divorce," Parker spat, face red with anger.

"We are here representing Mr. MacElroy," Donald said.  "Surely you expected him to have legal representation?"

"Yes, but..." Parker said.

"Stacy and Tracy Vickers," Donald indicated the two women to his right, "are forensic accountants they have tabulated the incomes and expenditures that both parties brought into the marriage and have paid out during the course of the marriage, including the two Caribbean accounts Ms. Kaitlin Monroe and Mrs. Patricia Monroe opened five months after the marriage."

Patricia gasped. Tommy smirked.

"They have also prepared projected earnings that Ms. Monroe can expect to earn for the next three years, assuming she manages to pass the BAR," Donald continued as the twin brunettes took thick folders of pages from their briefcases.

"I'll be passing..." Kaitlin snapped, glaring at the man.

"Ms. Leeanne Dumas is a computer forensics expert and can testify to the validity of the video that Mr. MacElroy shot, proving adultery on the part of Ms. Monroe," Donald went on, pointing to a woman that looked young enough to be in her first year of high school.

When Leeanne smiled, she even had a mouthful of braces.

Patricia shot a look at her daughter; this was the first she was hearing about adultery. Kaitlin flinched but did not meet her mother's gaze.

"This is my paralegal, Rebecca Montoyez," Donald indicated the fourth woman; she has assisted me with the legal precedence and I do believe we may even be setting new precedence here, and of course, you know Ethel Youngblood, my Administrative Assistant."

"And them?" Parker indicated the two men that stood next to the television cart.

"Ben Scholtz and Trevor Williams, our IT guys; they'll be displaying our evidence. They are also recording the proceedings here today," Donald said and the two men bowed slightly.

"Fine, fine, let's get started, Parker snapped, clearly annoyed.

"Wow, at our office, Ethel would have asked if anyone wanted anything to drink, any cookies or other refreshments, but I suppose, since you're still just getting started..." Donald quipped.

"Debbie?" Parker asked, face mottled with barely suppressed rage.

Debbie looked at him, confused, and then realized what he was requesting.

Kaitlin looked across the table at her husband. He looked good, relaxed. Donald Pellichet's paralegal must have said something amusing; Kaitlin felt a surge of rage well up as Tommy smiled and leaned close to the attractive Latin woman to whisper a response.

Kaitlin had spent all morning readying herself, even wearing the blouse he'd bought for her their previous Valentine's Day. If he had noticed, he gave no indication.

Kaitlin fixed Ms. Montoyez with a deadly glare; Tommy MacElroy was hers to do with as she pleased. And it certainly did not please Kaitlin Monroe to see Tommy speaking with another woman.

A few minutes later, Parker decided that Ms. Dees would be receiving a thirty cent an hour raise; she had enlisted Ms. DeSalvo, Johnson, Johnson & Lambert's newest associates to assist her.

"Now, if we may..." Parker said through gritted teeth as Donald leisurely stirred his green tea.

"Before we begin, my client would like to request that all parties not directly involved in the proceedings be excused," Donald said, looking directly at Patricia Monroe.

"I don't think that'll be necessary," Parker smirked, believing that he had won the first skirmish.

Donald held his face passive, watching Kaitlin squirm.

Forty five minutes later, Debbie Dees wanted desperately to take a break; her head hurt from all the accounting jargon and she was exhausted from the scrambling to make copies of all the papers the legal team kept pushing their way.

The computer jargon likewise confused Debbie but she dutifully forged on as Leeanne explained the steps she'd taken to verify that the video they were about to see had actually been obtained by Thomas MacElroy's cellular telephone's built in video recorder, how she matched the audio of the file with the video.

"So, even though the actual file is only forty eight seconds in length, because of the high definition resolution, it does take up nine point two gigabytes," she concluded. Also, there was audio of music from an extraneous site and we have verified with a Ms. Angela Brandt that the music was coming from her apartment which is the apartment directly overhead."

Leeanne slid two discs in clear plastic covers to Parker.

"Here is a copy for your records and a copy for your client; I have signed a statement that these were taken from the original recording and has not been altered in any way.  Below my signature is the signature of Officer Mike Stevens of the Bender Police Department stating that he did witness me transferring information from one medium to the other without any file manipulation," the woman said,

Sliding a paper with Richards, Pellichet, and Jones logo at the top of the page.

"Do you require any further authentication?" Donald asked, noticing Kaitlin's obvious distress.

"No, just show the damned video," Parker sighed, close to calling for a break; his bladder was nearly bursting.

"Mom, please, please go wait outside, huh?" Kaitlin begged.

"There a problem?" Parker asked.

"I will not..." Patricia snarled at Tommy.

"Whatever they want, give it to them," Kaitlin said and bolted from the room before Donald could press 'play' on the remote control of the television.

"What..." Parker said.

Tommy felt a very brief urge to get to his feet and check on his wife. Nine years of caring for her could not just be completely shut off.

"Well then, I think we're done here," Donald smiled at the still gaping Parker. "Your client has agreed to all of our demands."

"What on God's earth?" Patricia snarled. "Show us; I want to see what's on that damned video."

"I will need to speak with my client," Parker snarled, getting to his feet.

"Why don't we take a fifteen minute break?" Donald smiled magnanimously. "I'm sure some of us could use the potty by now, Ben, Leeanne, I know you two are just dying for a smoke, huh?"

"Fine' we'll be back here in fifteen," Parker snapped.

It galled Parker Johnson; this was his office building, his conference room, and this flunky, this black man that was inferior to him in every way, was besting him. Worse yet, Donald Pellichet was making him look incompetent in front of his staff.

Debbie did not even wait for Parker to leave the room; she dashed for the ladies' room. Frances entered the room two seconds behind Debbie.

"Oh my God!" Frances exclaimed in a whisper. "I mean, God! I knew Dr. Pellichet was smart, but God!"

In the mens room, Parker sighed as he emptied his aching bladder. He wondered where Kaitlin had run off to; she had not been in the Interns' office or in the lobby.

"I can't use those," Tommy MacElroy said pleasantly as he pushed open the door to a stall.

"What?" Parker asked.

"Those urinal? Can't use them," Tommy said and locked the door of the stall.

"What? Why not?" Parker asked, zipping up.

Yeah, after straining my back on the job, doctor doesn't want me lifting anything heavy," Tommy said.

Tommy smiled as he heard Parker actually chuckle. Then he let himself feel the sadness, feel the loss. He'd recognized the blouse; it was a red silk blouse that did display Kaitlin's massive breasts very nicely. It also made her blonde hair really stand out and gave definition to her ice blue eyes.

But today, it seemed to really draw attention to how sad and mottled and bloated Kaitlin Monroe looked. Her blonde hair looked as if it had not been washed or brushed in days.  Her eyes looked hateful, even in their puffy state.

Yes, her massive breasts did look magnificent in her blouse, but it also drew attention to her distended belly; for a brief moment Tommy had wondered if Kaitlin might be pregnant.

"You all right in there?" Donald's voice boomed out.

"Yeah," Tommy sighed.

"Told you before, I just absolutely hate doing divorces," Donald sighed heavily. "God, even when you win, nobody wins."

In the third stall in the women's room, Kaitlin stared blankly at the closed door.

This was real. It was really happening. Her Tommy had really left her and had really filed for divorce. And now, in front of her mother and her boss, Kaitlin did wonder briefly when Parker or Brandon planned to approach her with a job offer; they'd already hired Flat Frances, in front of her boss, Tommy really was going to show the video of her having sex with Jack and with Jeffrey.

Tommy never was good enough; he had been a pleasant enough diversion, a cute and willing pet for Kaitlin to fuck while she waited for her true lover to take her for himself. But her beloved father had been killed before he could take her.

Chad and Jeffrey had filled in, had been willing to do their late father's duties.

Jack had been a necessity; he'd arrested Hillary as the girl bought some great Jamaican weed. In exchange for not bringing her in, Kaitlin and Hillary agreed to fuck him.

It was supposed to be a one-time thing but Jack didn't seem to understand that. And Jack's hatred of Tommy was also fuel for Jack. He loved fucking Kaitlin, especially in her ass, something she would never let Tommy do.

Tommy was supposed to be a pet, a servant, willingly paying her bills until such time that it became convenient for Kaitlin to discard him.

But Tommy was not making it convenient. Her pet was actually fighting back; with very sharp teeth.

"Kai... Ms. Monroe? You in there?" Flat Frances' voice asked. "Mr. Johnson says they're waiting for you."

"No, it's over," Kaitlin said flatly.

She flushed, even though she'd not done anything, and opened the stall door.

The brightly lighted bathroom had floor to ceiling mirrors behind the sinks. For a brief moment, Kaitlin wondered who the morbidly obese woman with the scraggly blonde hair and puffy mottled face was.

She staggered; blackness threatening and Frances gripped her hand tightly.

"Ms. Monroe, you all right?" Frances asked, concerned.  "You need help?"

"Oh my God," Kaitlin gasped and looked again at the mirrored wall.

Frances let go of Kaitlin's hand and stepped back a few feet; Kaitlin looked as if she was about to be ill.

Kaitlin wobbled unsteadily for a moment, then swayed over to a sinks. She splashed some cold water into her face, and then remembered all the care she'd taken that morning on her make-up.

"Oh, who in the fuck am I kidding?" she snarled at the blotchy reflection.

"Excuse me?" Frances squeaked.

"Tell Parker it's over," Kaitlin sighed. "Give Tommy whatever he's asking for."

In Conference Room C, Parker glared angrily toward Donald Pellichet, and then relaxed as Frances entered the room.

"Women's room," Frances whispered to Parker. "Says give them whatever they're asking for."

"Uh, Mr. Johnson?" Donald glibly said. "Uh, there going to be any more delays? I have another mediation at one, you know."

"I'll be right back," Parker snapped and left the room.

In the restroom, Kaitlin looked up when the door suddenly flung open and Parker Johnson stomped in.

"What in the hell is going on?" he snarled hatefully at the piggish woman.

"That video, you can't let my Momma see it," Kaitlin cried out. "It'll kill her!"

"I'm sure the sight of her precious little girl getting screwed isn't going to..." Parker spat.

"But it's not just me," Kaitlin began sobbing.

It was now all too real and all too overwhelming.

"What? Are you also sacrificing farm animals? What..." Parker said, angry.

All this time, the woman could have divulged what was on this video; obviously she had known from the start that there was damning information. Time after time, he had sat down and gone over this proceedings and Kaitlin had been tight-lipped about the whole thing.

"It's me and Jack and my brothers and sister," Kaitlin choked out, turned, and barely avoided spraying Parker with the contents of her stomach as she vomited into a sink.

"Hey!" Cindy St. George complained as she opened the door of the restroom and saw Parker standing in the room.

"Don't worry about it; I'm just leaving," Parker snapped.

Parker fought down the bile in his stomach, looked hard at Kaitlin, and then strode out of the bathroom.

"You okay?" Cindy asked Kaitlin. "You don't look so good."

"What the..." Kaitlin started, then stopped and began to sob.

"No, no I'm not okay," she admitted to the attractive girl.

Kaitlin fought down her revulsion at the stench of cigarettes on Cindy St. George as the girl hugged her consolingly. She also wished she could remember the girl's name. The girl greeted her every morning with a cheerful 'good morning' and bade her good evening every evening with a cheerful voice.

"Seriously, even the most fucked up day? It's only twenty four hours long," Cindy said, patting her on her back.  "So, just get through the next hour, all right? Then get through the next one after that."

"Sorry, about to pee on myself," Cindy apologized, released Kaitlin and dashed into a stall.

"Thank you," Kaitlin mumbled, again splashed cold water into her face, grabbed her purse and left the restroom.

Chapter 10

"Thank that really killed me, I mean, really killed any chance of us ever getting back together," Tommy sighed to Donald as they waited on the funds to be wired from the off-shore accounts.

Donald said nothing; he'd been through enough of these divorces to know, even after all the papers had been signed, the newly divorced client usually needed to talk.

"I mean, God, excuse my language but..." Tommy lowered his voice. "I been after her for years let me tap that ass of hers. Think she ever even let me stick a finger up there? Fuck no. And blow jobs? One or two licks and she's flopping on that fat ass telling me it's my turn."

"Typical Monroe," Donald smiled tightly. "All about them."

"Here you are, sir," Heidi Moek, the branch manager of the First Union Bank in Bender, Louisiana said pleasantly as she printed out the confirmation of funds transfers.

"Now, this account, your wi... your ex-wife have any access to it?" Donald asked as he slid the papers over to Tommy.

"No," Tommy smiled tightly. "I uh, I set it up to save some money buy her a watch for Christmas."

"Well, uh, still can," Donald joked, glancing at the amount of money on the receipt.

"Wouldn't that just be too cute?" Tommy laughed.

Then he grew serious as Heidi stood, waiting for their business to conclude.

"Uh, Ms. Moek, you look something up for me? There's a property at thirty fifteen Highway twenty seven? You wouldn't happen to know who owns that, huh?"

"Thirty fifteen? Let me..." Heidi said and strode off.

"What's at...." Donald asked.

"You like po-boys?" Tommy asked.

"Po-boys? Love them, best place is this little shack out in Jack's Creek," Donald said.

"Momma's? Yeah, those are so good," Tommy agreed. "But there's going to be a new place opening real soon called Tommy's, all right? Put them to shame." 

Tommy smiled as Heidi returned.

"Turns out, we're the ones holding the lease on that, or did you already know that?" Heidi asked.

"Kind of did," Tommy admitted. "What would you say if I offered you fifty for it?"

"Make it seventy five and it's yours," Heidi countered.

"Sixty after a full title search," Tommy said.

"Hmmm," Heidi paused then shrugged.

The property had been vacant for three years, had been nothing but a scorched slab of concrete. A young lady had leased the property, erected a metal building and currently ran a dance studio out of it. But the girl had trouble meeting the expenses and was quite often delinquent on her note. If this young man was willing to assume that headache, he was welcome to it.

"Damn, need you negotiating at my office," Donald snickered as Heidi scrambled to get everything together.

"Any time you in there? On the house, hear?" Tommy promised.

"Son, never ever tell a lawyer that," Donald joked.  "They'll be in there every day!"

At her apartment, Kaitlin looked around, overwhelmed.

She needed to decide what to pack, what would be coming back with her to Momma's house, and what would be going into the dumpster.

As empty as Kaitlin felt inside, as numb as she felt, everything in the damned apartment could just go into the large dumpster behind the building.

Momma was livid; only one of the off-shore accounts was actually Kaitlin's. Patricia had only put Kaitlin's name on the other one in case anything happened to Patricia. And Tommy MacElroy wasn't supposed to get penny one of either one of those accounts.

And Tommy MacElroy wasn't supposed to get penny one of any monies Kaitlin Monroe accrued as a powerful attorney; he was supposed to just pay the bills for her until such time that Kaitlin could dispose of him.

But now, he would be receiving half of her income for the next three years; a recompense for the three years he'd been paying for her schooling, recompense for the three years they'd been married.

Kaitlin sat down heavily into the blue recliner.

And when had she become such a blimp? The snap on her skirt threatened to bust open as she sat.

Upstairs, Kaitlin heard the petite red head stride across the living room, then heard and felt music pound and thump through the floor.

Anger coursed through her and Kaitlin wiggled and thrust her immense bulk out of the chair, prepared to march upstairs and pummel the inconsiderate bitch upstairs.

"Kaitlin, damn, it's like one thirty in the afternoon," Kaitlin said and again felt weariness envelope her.

Brandon Johnson had finally let Kaitlin know that she would not be joining Johnson, Johnson and Lambert; Parker had stormed out of the building before Donald Pellichet, Tommy MacElroy, and their entourage had even completed gathering their papers.

So, on top of packing and moving, on top of studying for the BAR, she would also have to work on getting a resume together.

Kaitlin smiled sadly as she looked at the couch. She and Tommy had picked out that couch; the blue flowers matched her Daddy's recliner. Then Tommy had managed to get the couch upstairs, saving himself the fifty dollars fee O'Neil's in Elgee wanted for delivering it.

Then they'd fucked on it. The salesman had assured them that it was stain-treated. That same night, Momma, Hillary, Chad and Jeffrey had come over to their apartment for dinner. She and Tommy had shared a secretive smile; Momma was sitting on their wet spot as she criticized the couch, the coffee table, the kitchen table they'd bought.

Kaitlin looked at the coffee table. Tommy would sit on that couch and use that coffee table to put his beer, his chips and dip, and his feet on while he watched stupid boring football or NASCAR on their 42" LCD television.

Kaitlin glanced at the television, and then looked around for the remote control. She honestly could not remember the last time she had turned the television on. She could not remember if she had paid the cable bill or put in Tommy's stack of mail.

Looking at the kitchen counter, she saw the stack of mail and saw Tommy's apartment key sitting on top of the stack. 

The cable bill was right on top, unopened. Looking at it, Kaitlin realized, just like everything else in their apartment, it was in her name and her name only. So why would Tommy pay it?

Overhead, the music continued to pound on and on. Kaitlin waddled into her bedroom to see if she could determine a starting place for packing.

Kaitlin spotted her jewelry box on top of the dresser and decided it could be the first item she packed. She grabbed it, knocking something that had been sitting on top of it to the floor.




Acquisitions



"I've found one," I said into my cell phone as I stood unobtrusively in a darkened corner of the bar. "He looks very promising."

"Have you tested him yet?" the voice on the other end of the phone asked, barely audible over the cacophony of sound in the popular club.

"Tonight." I stuck a finger in my free ear, muffling the external noise only slightly. "I know how anxious the client is, and I thought you might like to give her a bit of good news."

There was a sniff at the other end of the line. "It won't be good news unless he meets the necessary criteria, Sabela. Call back after you've performed the requisite testing." Control sounded abrupt, but then, she always sounded thus. I'd long since grown used to it.

"Yes, ma'am." I snapped the phone closed and slipped it back into the pocket of my jeans. Turning, I scanned the room until I located my target. He was sitting at the end of the bar, nursing a beer, occasionally glancing at the people around him. He was a good looking man. Short, chocolate brown hair combed neatly away from his face, deep set blue eyes framed by thick, dark lashes. High cheekbones, wide, sensual mouth. A neatly trimmed goatee. Yes, he was an attractive man. Why was he sitting alone in a bar? Truth to tell, it didn't matter much to me.

You see, I'm an Aquirer. When I get the call from my boss, Control, I receive a detailed description of what the client wants. Then I begin the hunt. Sometimes it takes a bit longer to find exactly what the client is looking for, and in this case, the requirements had been extremely specific. Ordinarily it takes me about a week to locate my target, but in this instance I'd been searching for almost twice that long. The client had been getting a bit nervous, but my boss was an expert in keeping the clients calm and cooperative. 

Back to the target. I carefully made my way through the crowd, approaching him from behind. I parked myself on a stool between him and the back wall, so I could keep an eye on him and, more specifically, watch who he was watching.

A woman approached, a tall blonde with breasts that could not be natural. She leaned across the bar, giving the man, myself, and any other person who happened to be looking in that direction a clear view directly down her cleavage almost to her belly button. She licked her cherry red lips and whispered something to the man, giving him a blatant "come hither" look. Over the noise of the bar I couldn't hear her words, or his response, but it was obviously not what the blonde had in mind, because her collagen plumped lower lip slid out in a pout, and I could distinctly read her lips as she said "your loss," and then disappeared back into the crowd.

Check buxom blondes off the list of women attractive to the target.

I watched for another two hours. Every once in a while a woman got up the nerve to approach the target, and he shot down each and every one of them. Apparently he didn't go for blondes, brunettes or redheads, women with overly large breasts or skin tight cloths. An image was beginning to form in my mind. The image gelled when the target's head swiveled suddenly. I watched a woman make her way through the crowd. She smiled brilliantly, and out of the corner of my eye I saw a man stand up from a table and approach the woman. He folded her in his arms and placed a kiss on her that should have sucked all the oxygen right out of the bar.

The target's shoulders slumped slightly, and I knew the time was nigh. I'd found the form that would attract him, and I quickly slipped out of the bar. I would only be gone for a moment, just long enough to don my disguise.

It was the reason I was such an excellent Acquirer, the reason my services were so often specifically requested. I had the unusual ability to alter my physical form into anything I needed. I've done this many, many times in the course of my career. I slipped into a darkened alley next door to the bar and, closing my eyes, pictured the physical form I needed. Petite, somewhat curvy in the bust and hips, dark, almost black hair. Not exactly like the woman who had elicited such a strong reaction from the target, but with enough similarities that I should be able to approach or be approached with little difficulty.

Transformation complete, I walked slowly back toward the bar. I carefully adopted the attitude of a young woman looking for a drink and a little relaxation. Definitely not one on the prowl for a man, as the women who'd been rejected had obviously been.

The target was still sitting at the end of the bar, and I made my way toward him. I deliberately avoided direct eye contact with him as I slid onto a bar stool a couple seats down from him. I ordered a glass of wine, and took a long sip. Out of the corner of my eye I watched him look up and take notice of me. He watched me, only slightly less surreptitiously than I watched him, as I sip for sip emptied my wine glass. I knew that the metabolizer implanted in my stomach would absorb the alcohol, preventing me from getting drunk, no matter how much I consumed. A handy little device, that metabolizer--it was just as useful on drugs as alcohol, and had prevented sexual attacks on me on more than one occasion. One night I'd taken a great deal of pleasure in all but gelding a couple perverts who'd slipped GHB into my drink.

Just as I was setting my glass back onto the tacky little paper coaster in front of me, I felt a warm body slid onto the stool next to me. I turned with a smile and looked up into those gorgeous blue eyes. "Can I buy you another round?" he asked, returning my smile.

"Thank you," I murmured, looking away. He raised a finger to the bartender, and a second glass of zinfandel appeared on the coaster.

"I'm Tony."

"Sabela." I took a deep breath, and smiled. He smelled good. This was going to be a pleasure, in every sense of the word. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

We chatted for a long while, as time passed and the bar began to slowly empty. The more I found out about him, the more perfect he seemed. He was twenty-seven years old, single and unattached. His parents were both deceased, no brothers or sisters. His only relative was an elderly aunt who he admitted wanted nothing to do with him. He pretty much had no connections left in the world besides his friends. Excellent, I thought. No one to miss him overmuch.

I always felt guilty when a target turned out to have family that would miss him. I deliberately never took married men, or ones with children or elderly family who depended on him. Occasionally I found a target with parents or siblings who would grieve, but I always made sure that the family would survive without him.

For he would never be coming back.

"Can I walk you home?" he asked, pushing his empty beer mug away and rising.

"Thank you."

We stepped out into the balmy night. The air was warm, tangy with the scent of the ocean and the tropical blossoms that proliferated on this island resort. We strolled down the boardwalk, away from the bars and restaurants and into the hotel district. As we walked, I deliberately pumped up the pheromones--another artificial augmentation designed to make my job easier. By the time we reached my hotel and made our way to my room, Tony was as ready as he would ever be.

I gave him a small smile as I slipped my key card into the electronic lock of my room. "Would you like to come in?" I asked shyly as the door swung open. Tony didn't have to be asked twice. He placed a hand at the small of my back and guided me inside. The door had barely closed before he had me pressed up against the wall, his mouth covering mine in a kiss that sucked the air out of my lungs. I could tell he was shocked by his own behavior, but he was incapable of stopping, mostly due to the stimulus I was giving him.

"I have to have you," he growled against my throat as he pulled the hem of my blouse out of the waistband of my jeans and ran his hands up over my bare flesh.

"Then take me," I whispered back, clutching at his shoulders. 

He smiled then, and the next thing I knew, he'd swept me into his arms and was striding toward the bed. I let him see the heat in my eyes as he lay me down, and then he stood beside the bed, gazing down at me. His eyes traveled over me as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged out of it, and then toed off his shoes. He was so beautiful.

Eager to get my hands on his body, I rolled to my knees and, touching the tip of my tongue to my upper lip, reached for he belt. He stood there, head thrown back and eyes closed as I unbuttoned and slowly, oh, so slowly, lowered the zipper of his slacks, turning every motion in to an erotic caress. He ran his fingers through my dark hair as I let my hands slide inside, against his smooth, warm skin, caressing his hips and around to cup his buttocks. His eyes flashed open when I leaned forward and licked him softly, just below his navel.

He was panting by this time, watching me through slitted eyes as I pushed his slacks and boxer shorts -- I just love a man who wears silk boxer shorts -- over his hips and down his long legs. He stepped out of his pants and shorts and then leaned forward and crawled onto the bed. I shimmied backwards as he crawled toward me, until my back was against the headboard and he was kneeling between my spread legs. "You're wearing way to many cloths, babe," he murmured, running his hands down my denim-clad legs. I fumbled with my own button and zipper, and as soon as I had them released, Tony grabbed the cuffs of my jeans and pulled, stripping them off me in one swoop, leaving me clad only in a peach silk blouse and bikini-cut undies. He cupped my ankles and slowly, deliberately, ran his hands up the outside of my legs. Gooseflesh rose over my skin at the delicious friction. When his hands reached my hips, he slid his fingers under the thin bands of my panties, and then he began a reverse trip, drawing my panties down my legs and off.

Then he gripped my ankles and pulled me down until I was lying flat on the bed, with him, naked and gloriously aroused, kneeling between my legs. My own breathing became erratic as he slid his hands up over my belly and under my blouse until he came to my unbound breasts. I arched against his palms as he kneaded my breasts, rubbing the pads of his thumbs back and forth over my hardened nipples. Oh, this was a man who definitely knew how to make love to a woman. The client was going to be SO pleased.

He withdrew his hands and unbuttoned my blouse, spreading the edges like he was unwrapping a precious gift. Then his hands went back to my breasts, rubbing and squeezing, watching my reactions with flaming eyes. I writhed beneath him, arching into his hands once again. And then he leaned forward and took my right nipple into his mouth, sucking gently and driving me out of my mind. I clutched at his hair, holding him tight as he nursed against me, licking and biting and sucking until I couldn't stand it any more. I pushed him away, only to have him give a low, rumbling growl and turn his head to attack my other breast. By the time he raised his head and looked me in the eye, I was fairly sure I was dying. My heart was racing, I was panting like I'd just run a marathon, my body flushed and covered with perspiration.

Tony pulled away long enough to snag his wallet out of his pants and remove a condom. I was grateful for this--I always use condoms. Not because I'm afraid of pregnancy or disease--more of those handy modifications--but to make collection for testing easier. But I was pretty far gone right then, and didn't think I'd've been able to string together a coherent statement.

I watched as he smoothed the thin layer of latex over his throbbing shaft. He was an impressive man, long and thick and heavily erect. I licked my lips eagerly as he moved toward me, crawling between my spread legs and leaning forward to rest his hips against mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck and moaned as he began to rub himself against the opening to my body, using my natural juices to lubricate his massive erection.

Then he looked me directly in the eye and reached down, guided his penis toward me, and I gasped as he began to press himself home. Oh, Goddess, he was big! I moaned in pleasure as he continued to advance, until he was fully seated inside of me. Then he slipped his hands under my shoulders to brace me, and began to thrust. I arched and squirmed under him, clutching him closer so that my overly sensitive breasts would rub against the fine layer of soft hair on his chest. "Oh, Tony," I sighed into his ear as he rested his face in the crook of my neck. "More...harder!"

He took the challenge, increasing the length and force of his thrusting, groaning my name over and over. I wrapped my legs tightly around his lower back, pulling him as close as possible as I felt myself begin to crest. It was amazing, as always, that bright, shining moment when everything in the universe is absolutely perfect. Starbursts flashed behind my tightly closed eyes as I reached the pinnacle of my climax, my body tightening around his, milking his body, drawing forth his own massive orgasm.

He went stiff in my arms, thrusting himself as deeply as possible within my body, and then shuddering in completion. His massive weight pressed me down into the mattress as his limbs went limp and he collapsed. I kissed him deeply then, and we rolled to the side until we were lying face to face, wrapped in each other's arms.

He roused a bit when his erection began to subside, slipping from within me and removing and disposing of the used condom in the bedside waste basket. I cuddled up next to him, then, and lay my head on his broad chest, listening to the steady thump-thump of his heartbeat, the whooshing of his breathing as both slowed. Within a few moments, Tony was fast asleep.

As soon as I was sure it wouldn't wake him, I slipped out of his arms and retrieved the condom from the garbage. I walked into the bathroom and closed and locked the door before flicking on the light. I puttered around a little, flushing the toilet and then turning on the shower, just in case he'd awakened and was wondering what I was doing in the bathroom for so long.

I pulled my testing kit out of the closet and spread my equipment out on the vanity. I poured the contents of the condom into the receptacle, and punched my key code and the specific list of instructions into the scanner. In the space of a few moments I'd have the results.

The first test had had spectacular results. Tony definitely wasn't impotent, nor did he appear to have any sexual hangups. I watched the lights flicker across the scanner as it checked his semen for signs of disease or illness. It was vitally important that a chosen man be healthy and disease free. Clients paid a great deal of money for these men, and it was a requirement that there be as little chance as possible that he would be likely to drop dead within the year.

I had also keyed in one further instruction. This client was specifically looking for a breeder, so it was necessary to also check his sperm count. Even the healthiest, most vigorous man would be no good to this client if he weren't capable of completing the duties for which he was being acquired.

There was a soft buzz, and I glanced down at the scanner's screen. The light at the top of the scanner glowed softly green. Yes, Tony was healthy, disease free, and fertile. He was an excellent choice.

I rinsed the scanner and poured disinfectant into the receptacle to prepare it for the next test subject, and was just packing my equipment away when there was a soft groan from the other room. I hopped into the shower quickly, wetting myself down, just as the door knob jiggled, and then there was a soft tap on the door.

"Sabela?" he called. "Are you okay in there?"

"I'm fine, Tony. Just taking a shower to cool off." I turned off the water and wrapped a towel around myself before unlocking and opening the door. One look at my nearly naked, moisture drenched body, and Tony's body reacted quickly. I smiled to myself as he scooped me up and placed me on the bed. Here we go again, I thought as his lips touched my body again.

He was mine. At least for tonight.

* * *

Dawn was just starting to break when I rose and dressed. It was time to send Tony on his way so I could contact my boss and give her the good news--we'd found our subject.

I pulled on a light silk sundress and slipped into a pair of sandals before sitting beside Tony on the bed. I rubbed his shoulder, gently easing him awake. He blinked at me owlishly for a moment before a seductive smile crossed his face one again. I was learning to recognize that grin, and pressed my fingers against his lips to stay his movements. "It's time to get up, Lover," I murmured softly. The look of disappointment on his face was priceless. Licking my lips, I ran a finger down the center of his chest, playing with the hair surrounding his male nipples. "I have a friend who lets me take his boat out whenever I want. What do you say we get together this afternoon and go for a little ride?" I crossed my arms over his chest and leaned forward. "I know this beautiful little cove where the water is warm and blue and there's no one around for miles and miles. We can pack a picnic," I stroked his chest again with my fingertips, "and pack some...other stuff. We can have a wonderful afternoon." 

He opened his mouth, but no sound emerged. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Sounds like...fun," he managed. I gave him my most radiant smile and dropped a quick kiss on his lips.

"Then I'll meet you on the west marina around quarter to two. I'll bring lunch, baby. You bring..." I moved my hand and gave his morning erection a meaningful squeeze, "everything else."

* * *

I stood on my balcony and watched as Tony walked down the street. As soon as he rounded the corner and disappeared from sight, I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and punched in the number I knew by heart.

"Sabela," the voice of my boss acknowledged before I could identify myself.

"Yes, ma'am. I've completed Phase I and Phase II testing of the subject. He has exceeded my expectations in all areas."

"Including the fertility testing? This is very important to our client."

"Yes, ma'am. He scored within the ninety-fifth percentile on the fertility test. He'll be an excellent breeder for the client's purposes, provided, of course, that she isn't an Alaxian." I smiled tightly. The Alaxians were a difficult species. They just refused to accept the fact that they weren't genetically compatible with humans. We'd long since given up on procuring breeders for our Alaxian clients.

"No, she's not Alaxian. Are you ready to proceed with Phase III?"

"Yes. We'll be taking the boat out around two o'clock this afternoon. We'll be in position in the cove around two-thirty."

"The client will be ready. I'll send the standard code if she accepts him."

"Understood. I'll see you this evening."

Control hung up without so much as a good bye, but then I really didn't expect one. She was good with the clients, but her interpersonal skills with her employees was somewhat lacking. Maybe that's why she was Control and not an Acquirer.

I gathered up the makings of a romantic picnic lunch, including the sedative that would be necessary for when and if I received the client's approval of my selection. The target, Tony, would be sedated, taken ashore so he could be examined up close by the client. Once final approval was given, the balance due on the client's account would be paid, and the target would be turned over to his new owner. He would be long gone before he ever regained consciousness.

I caught a taxi down to the pier, and quickly made the boat ready. It was a small cabin cruiser, white with green and gold trim. I tucked the picnic basket into the small galley and strode up onto deck. One of our assistants was giving the boat a once-over, making sure that everything was in order for what could be the last leg of Tony's journey to a new life. The boat was in perfect condition, and the weather was going to be just spectacular. I, personally, had minimal knowledge of the workings of the boat, but I had made the journey to the cove many times, and I knew that once we were there, we would be under constant covert observation. If a storm or some other unexpected event were to occur, in a matter of minutes another boat would "just happen" to come to our rescue.