3 comments/ 13174 views/ 2 favorites Murder and Mayhem Ch. 01 By: RedHairedandFriendly Diane watched Isis and Ginger link their arms together and head out of the back door. She shook her head as they turned back at her, winked and then giggled behind upraised palms. She'd turned down their offer for a naughty evening, but they had known she would have. Diane had been friends with the two women for three years now, learning the tricks of the trade from them, as well as how to cook a few simple meals, like mac and cheese. Not once though had she taken them up on their once a week invitation to introduce her to the arts of loving women. She'd done it once, been with a female. It wasn't by choice though, it'd been forced on her. Diane shuddered at the memory and when the door closed on the back room of the club, leaving her alone, she lowered her head on the small vanity and tried to block the images from her mind. She could still smell the scent of the high-priced whore her husband had picked up one night. Richard and Diane had been returning from a fund-raiser for a local children's hospital. They'd been sitting in the limo, far apart from each other. She was in her long satin dress. He wore a well-cut form fitting tuxedo. Diane had been staring out the window, silently praying that when they got back home, Richard would retire to the study and she could go to bed, alone. It was Richard's hand moving that brought her out of her self-induced trance. She caste him a puzzled glance as he pressed the intercom button and told his driver to pull over. Diane's gaze moved from her husband, to the street they were on; she looked for some shop that her spouse suddenly had wanted to stop at. There was nothing there that she found appealing. The street lights cast faint glows over trash cans and litter. Small groups of individuals were pressed against run down buildings. Diane asked, "What are we stopping here for?" Richard had just looked at her and smirked. "I think it's ready to start lesson two," he told her. Diane's face paled and her eyes grew wide. She bit down on her lower lip to stifle any words from pouring out. Words got her in trouble, so she learned to keep her thoughts and opinions to herself. She watched the limo snake along the edge of the road and then heard Richard say, "That one." Her eyes stared at Richard's window as his finger pressed the button and it began its descent down. A woman's face suddenly appeared as did her large breasts. The tips of her areolas protruded out under the tight leather corset she wore. Silver painted jewelry circled her wrists and a necklace with a gleaming cross dangled between her ample cleavage. "Hey baby," she cooed, licking her lips and reaching in to trail one hand down Richard's chest. "Lookin' for a good time?" Diane grabbed Richard's arm. "What are you doing?" she hissed, glancing briefly at the woman's heavily massacred eyes. "Get off me slut," Richard answered back, shoving Diane away and glaring back at her. He then returned his attentions to the hooker. "My wife and I are looking for company this evening." Diane's gasp filled the car's interior and Richard chuckled. "Interested?" he asked, ignoring his wife's horrified whispers of "please no." The prostitute glanced at Diane and then back at the man in charge. Diane shook her head no, hoping the woman would take pity on her and walk away. Richard smirked, pulled his wallet out and flashed its thick contents to the woman. "It's all yours if you get in now and agree to whatever I want." The woman's eyes grew wide as she took in the sight of several bills. "Nothing that'll hurt me," she whispered, licking her lips in anticipation of earning more money than she had at one time. "I'll not lay a finger on you," Richard grinned. Diane whimpered and felt her eyes filling with tears. She heard the car door opening and felt Richard sliding out to allow the other women in. Her lower lip trembled as she fought for control over her emotions. Richard climbed in and on the way home proceeded to tell both women what he expected for the night. The hours that followed were ones Diane would come to hate. A year later, Diane was able to leave her husband and his sick games behind. "Hey doll, I have to lock up. You going home?" Diane jumped, startled back into the present and blushed. "Sorry Joe. I was sleeping." Joe eyed her suspiciously. "Sleeping and crying don't mix, sugar." Diane smiled softly and wiped at her eyes. "No they don't, do they." She rose from the vanity that had become her's since she first started dancing at Slippery Stockings and grabbed her jacket from the hook on the door as well as her purse. She slipped the lightweight material on and then hooked her purse of her shoulder. "Is Tate still around?" she asked as she walked past Joe. "Tate? Nah, he left a while ago. Why? Need a ride home?" She thought a moment, knowing full well Joe would take her home if she asked him. The thought was appealing, but she also knew Joe's wife Sarah was close to delivering the couple's first child. She didn't want to cause Sarah any worry, so she smiled and shrugged her shoulders. "Nah. I'll be fine. It's just a few blocks." "A lot can happen in a few blocks Dee," Joe replied as he followed her to the front door, shutting off lights and music as he went. "Let me drive ya home. It won't take long." Diane chewed on her lower lip. "No. Really, three blocks won't kill me and besides if I get spoiled riding in that mustang of yours I'll come to expect a ride and then ... well walking helps me keep my girlish figure." She winked as she swayed her hips suggestively. "Even in jeans you look good-enough to eat," Joe replied, grinning at his favorite exotic dancer. "One trip though won't spoil you, but if you're sure, then I'll leave ya alone. If Tate were here, he'd walk you home. He's gonna shoot me for letting you do it yourself." "Then we won't tell him." She squeezed her boss's arm and turned away from the club. Her steps quickened as she passed the first alley. She turned and waved at Joe, who was watching her. "Go home " she shouted, "you've got a baby on the way." He lifted his hand and waved back, then turned and hurried over to his car. She saw him lift his head in prayer and knew he was thanking God for the car still being there. Diane watched him drive away before resuming her own trek home. Her thoughts shifted from the night's business and she felt the weight of several bills that had been floating about her subconscious melt away. Normally she didn't work on a Tuesday night, but Carrie, one of the new girls had called in sick. Joe had panicked, because though it was mid-week he was expecting a good crowd. Several business men were supposed to show up for a private show. Carrie was supposed to be their private dancer. Joe called Diane who grudgingly agreed to as long as she got all the tips and didn't have to give Joe his percentage. Joe had done the math, growled at her over the phone, but agreed, knowing he'd make quite a bit from the drinks as well as the private request itself Diane thought of what she could do with the extra money. Devon was turning six and would really like a bicycle. Granted it didn't make a lot of sense to her to buy him one, since they didn't have a yard, but she also knew that if she watched him ride his bike up and down the block it would be better than nothing. Every six year old needed a bike. She smiled as she thought of her son on his cousin's old tricycle. Carla, her sister, had offered to give Devon the bike, but Diane had said no saying they had no place for it in their little one bedroom apartment. Devon though had never forgotten the offer and now was begging every other day for a bike of his own. The sound of shuffling feet brought Diane back to her surroundings. She stopped walking and turned around. No one was there except the usual folks. A small cluster of late night dealers stood off to the side of a street light. She frowned, but said nothing, minding her own business and resuming her path back to her apartment building. Several minutes passed before Diane was jarred back to reality again. This time it wasn't a noise that brought her back, but the firm, hard grip of a man dragging her off the sidewalk and slamming her against the wall of a decrepit building. She started to scream, only to have his other hand come up and cover her mouth. Her eyes grew wide in their sockets as she stared at the man's face. She didn't recognize him, so that ruled out a local club attendant. She'd been accosted once before, but the man had failed in his attempt because Tate had been watching her. Diane hadn't known that either, until she'd felt the attacker being lifted from her struggling and yet-to-be-invaded body. Tate had told Diane he didn't feel right about allowing her to walk home alone, so he had decided to follow her that night to make sure she was safe. He'd saved her and walked her home every night since. She told him it wasn't necessary; she'd been walking the blocks for a year before he came to work for Joe. Now though she would admit she felt safer with Tate around. She wished with all her might Tate would show up again, but she knew the bouncer had left early because he had to head home to take a cousin to work. As the attacker leered at Diane's body, she knew she had to save herself. "Damn, you're pretty," the man whispered as he leaned into her. His face nuzzled her hair and he licked her ear, exposed to him because of Diane's ponytail. "I bet you're even prettier in that blond wing you wear on stage." Diane's green eyes flickered back and forth as she tried to look around the man. The comment about her on-stage wig made her stare back at him. Was he a regular after all? Or was he there tonight watching her? The questions rolled through Diane's mind as the man spoke. "Now. I've got a car one block from here," he whispered against her ear, "You're going to come with me." Diane shook her head no and muffled her defiance through her closed lips. The man chuckled and ground his body against hers again. "You are, or poor little Devon will suffer." Horror filled the dancer's green eyes at the mention of her son's name falling from this stranger's lips. Who was he? She tried hard to run his face through her memory, but no where did his features appear. "Now, ready?" he asked. Diane shook her head yes and the man grinned. She was thankful for the small beam of light of a passing car suddenly flooded them. Her gaze locked in on his and she quickly memorized his features. His hair was a dark black or brown, she couldn't be sure, but his eyes were brown or so they seemed and his chin sported a goatee, poorly trimmed. Above his lip, a scar interrupted the growth of a thick mustache. Another scar in the shape of a small circle rested in the center of his forehead. The man turned his face from the light, its invasion on his pupils a momentary distraction to his grip on Diane; he tried to clear the floating dots behind his lids. Diane jerked free and pushed with all her might against the man's chest. She felt a small flutter of triumph as he stumbled and she slipped out of his reach. The tips of his fingers grazed her jacket as she took off running and screaming. If anyone heard her, they didn't respond. Screaming after all down these streets was commonplace. Diane continued to run, praying to reach her apartment, which she could now see in the distance. The sight of sanctuary spurned her on, however she was stopped when a wrenching pain in her shoulder made her spin and fall to her knees. She reached back and felt the evidence of a sharp blade protruding from the muscle and flesh. Her eyes flew up to the figure approaching her. He passed under the light and she shuddered as his grin raked over her. Diane stumbled and tried to regain the momentum she had before falling. It was too late. Her attacker reached her side and grabbed her hair. She screamed out and received a hard blow to the side of her jaw, then felt the knife ripped free. Diane's head snapped back and her eyes started to roll in their sockets. The man shook her and slapped her again. "Wake up whore. I can't have ya dying on me before the fun starts." She felt herself being dragged against his side and she fought to remain awake as he began to pull her along with him in the opposite direction in which she'd been running. "Remember your son," the man said suddenly and Diane shivered. She glanced up and saw they were passing the group of late night drug stranglers she'd seen earlier. She stared at them, openly begging with her eyes that they help her. Two of the men glanced at her but said nothing as Diane was jerked tighter against her assailant's side. She whimpered, but refused to cry out for help, for fear it would mean Devon's death. "Almost there cunt," the man hissed and reached around with his other hand to squeeze Diane's breasts. "I may have to sample that before the boss does." Diane cried and tried to shift away, wanting nothing more than to be free of this man's steely grip. "I don't think she wants that." The voice seemed to come out of no where and a spark of hope rose up in Diane. The man holding her stopped and turned to face the would-be hero. He chuckled and shook his head. "Buddy, if you know what is good for you. You'll go back to your coke and leave me and my little lady alone." Diane flinched as the man shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "If she says all is okay, then I'll go. I don't know about my friends though. They think she's hot." Diane glanced at the men who had been smoking weed and doing lines. They were watching this stranger talk to the man who held her. She wasn't sure if she wanted free of one man's clutches, just to be thrust into eager hands owned by four different men. "Buddy, walk away," her attacker growled and flashed the knife, still covered in Diane's blood. The good Samaritan lifted a brow and lifted both hands. "I'm walking away," he whispered and glanced at Diane. His eyes shifted from her to his feet and then back again. She watched him turn to leave and wanted to cry out. The man beside her chuckled to himself and turned to drag Diane with him. The sound that came next wasn't from Diane, but her attacker as he dropped to the ground screaming. She fell with him, then felt his grip slacken before dropping away. She rolled and scurried back to the steps of a nearby building, ignoring the pain in her face and shoulder. She stared as the drug pusher stood over the crying and cursing attacker. The assailant held his right knee with both hands as the street lights above illuminated the dark crimson that flowed and pumped out. Diane's gaze flew back to the newest stranger and she watched the other men appear behind him. "Fuck Todd, now the cops are gonna show up. Couldn't you have knifed him? You okay Dee?" one of the voices asked. Diane's brow furrowed and then softened as she took in the features of Ricky, a local boy who had just celebrated his twenty-first birthday at Slippery Stockings, two days ago. "I didn't have enough light to throw a blade," the man Diane determined was Todd answered. "Look pick the dumb fuck up and throw him in the trunk of my car. We'll dump him somewhere." Diane rose to her feet and stumbled. Ricky caught her. "Dee, you're bleeding," he exclaimed as he turned her around to look at her wound. Blood seeped easily through the fabric of her shirt and her jacket. She winced when a pair of hands assaulted her clothing and tore the material away. "She'll live too," Todd muttered and then turned back to face his group of misfits. "Ricky walk her home, then take off. Me and the boys will take out the trash." "What are you going to do to him?" she asked. She didn't know Todd; she'd never seen him before, but now under the light she could see who the others were. Why she'd not recognized them earlier she didn't know, unless it was because she simply wanted to avoid any contact with the drug peddlers. "I mean... I'm not worried about him, but," she lifted one arm, wincing at the pain in her shoulder, "these boys don't need trouble." Todd chuckled. "Are you blind?" he asked. "Trouble? They are trouble. Lady we're not going to kill him, just dump him. You need looked at though. Ricky," he said, "take her home, call the cops and then disappear. You'll keep your mouth shut right...about us?" His question was directed at Diane. She frowned at his tone of voice and menacing attitude, but nodded. "I'll not say a word about you popping pills, shooting up and smokin' dope." The group muttered, but their musings were ignored as Todd ordered them to get the vagrant off the street and in his trunk. The attacker shouted and cursed then all sounds from him were ceased when one of the men knocked him out with a swift kick in the head. Diane winced and tried to not feel sympathy for the other human being, since this one was the lowest of the barrel. She felt Ricky's hand on her elbow. "Come on Dee. I'll walk you home," he was saying as he gently urged her to follow him. She went willingly, glancing at the man that had fired a gun to save her. What if he'd missed, she suddenly thought and her face grew pale. "Dee? Dee?" Ricky called, shaking her slightly. Diane shook her head and cleared her thoughts. The rest of her trip home was spent in silence as Ricky talked to her about how wonderful his party at the club had been and how hard he'd gotten when Ginger gyrated her way around a pole. When they reached Diane's apartment she was thankful that she'd left Devon at Missus Kesler's across the hall, instead of getting a sitter to watch him. Missus Kesler wouldn't mind if Devon stayed the night, so Diane was alone when she walked into her apartment and thanked Ricky for his escort. She closed the door behind her, locked the three locks and sank to her knees where she cried and shook with fear. Diane rested there for several long minutes, her shoulder throbbing with pain. She took a deep breath, eventually growing calmer and in time rising to walk to her bedroom. She peeled off her clothes and felt her head spinning. The material of her jacket and blouse pulled on her wound, but she bit through the pain. She turned and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes watered as she took in the broken skin that was caked with dried blood as well as fresh streams from the disrobing she'd done. She thought of calling the police, but decided that it was best to just leave this alone, after all to call the police meant she could put Devon in more danger. The cops would bring attention to her and that meant Richard would learn of her assault not to mention possibly further antagonize her attacker. The thought of the assailant made her shudder in fear. She closed her eyes and willed his features away for the time being. She then made her way on shaky legs to her bed, where she sat on the edge and picked up her phone. Trembling fingers pressed the buttons to her sister's home. The receiver on the other end was picked up after the second wail. "Eh?" The voice of Diane's brother came across the wires. "Adam, it's me Dee." She heard the muffled voice of her sister in the background and felt fresh tears spill from her eyes. "Adam, I'm hurt." "Hurt?" he said and she heard her sister demand the phone. "What happened?" Diane winced as she shifted her weight on the bed. "I've been stabbed." "Stabbed " Adam shouted and then Diane was listening to her sister screaming into the phone. She wasn't surprised when Carla's voice erupted in place of Adam's. "What the hell happened? Where are you? Are you okay? Where's Devon? Is he hurt?" Carla's litany of questions finally stopped because she needed a breath, or so Diane assumed that was why. "I'm at home. It's not too bad a wound, but I could use some help cleaning it up," Diane started only to be interrupted when her sister announced "we're on our way." Murder and Mayhem Ch. 02 It was a week before Diane returned to work; Joe had insisted she take more time off, but she told him she had to work, even if it was just serving drinks from behind the bar, which is what she was doing. The stitches that her sister Carla had put in, after swearing and cursing her for not going to a hospital, still pulled, but not enough to give Diane too much discomfort. The next day, she had an appointment at her sister's office to have the stitches removed. Having a pediatrician in the family had always been beneficial, but last week was the first time she'd used her sister for herself and not Devon. "How ya feeling?" Joe asked as he took a moment to draw out a cigarette and light it. Diane smiled. "I'm not doing too bad. A bit sore, but looking forward to tomorrow." "Well, you know you can go home. Tate's got my permission to leave when you're ready. He'll drive you home and then come back here to finish his shift." "Thanks Joe, but it's only a couple more hours. It's no big deal really. I'm fine." Diane squeezed her boss's arm and then went back to work. Serving drinks didn't make the tips that dancing did, so she did her best to keep her customers' glasses filled. The more they drank the more they left in the little bowl for her tips. Some were regulars and she was thankful for them, because they were still dropping bills into her pants when she'd walk by. With or without a dance they were supporting her. "You don't look worse for wear." Diane glanced at the owner of the voice and studied him closely. "Oh. . .hi," she whispered as she realized the man who had rescued her was now sitting at the bar. "Hi to you. How are you? I'm surprised to see you here," Todd told her, then ordered a jack 'n coke. She mixed up the beverage and set it in front of Todd. "No charge," she told him and he nodded his head in thanks. "It's my third day back. I had a week off after the... incident." Todd lifted a brow. "An incident that could have gotten you killed. What were you doing walking home alone like that, in this neighborhood?" Diane frowned. "I wasn't working my usual shift, other wise Tate, our bouncer," she nodded her head to the man in the corner, "would have walked me home. It was just bad luck," she said. "I hope your luck isn't always that bad," Todd answered. "It used to be, but all was going well there for a while, so bad luck was due to hit any day." Todd chuckled. Diane smiled back and then told him she'd talk to him more later, but she had work to do. He agreed to hold her to her promise and watched as she walked away to wait on others. Diane felt his eyes on her and she blushed from the feeling. She handled the incoming flux of customers. It was a Friday night and the place was packed. Men and women were enjoying the sights and sounds that filled the smoky club. Diane continued to glance from the dancers to the man that had rescued her. She found herself pleased that his gaze was often focused on someone or something besides Isis or Ginger's gyrating forms. Most often her eyes met his and she'd feel her skin grow more heated. An hour had passed before Diane was able to make her way back to the man who was still nursing his first drink. She'd seen Joe talking to him, look her way and then continue talking. She'd wanted to find out what was being said, but knew she had to concentrate on her work and making the money up for the week she'd been off. "Not mixed right?" she asked as she looked at his drink. "Nah. I'm just not much of a drinker," Todd replied. "Then why order it?" she asked and took the drink away, to replace it with a soda. "Better?" she asked as she opened the bottle of coke-cola. "Only if you share it with me and drinking helps me keep up the image of a hard ass," he said. Diane laughed and pulled a glass from behind the bar. She poured the cold dark liquid into a tall glass, passed it to her customer and kept the remains for herself. "Cheers," she said and clicked the plastic container against his glassy one. "To a long life of pure good luck," Todd said, stressing the "good" part of his toast. "I'll definitely drink to that." Diane and Todd sipped and talked, her alternating between serving her customers and paying attention to her hero. "You know, I don't know your name, but you know mine. That's a bit unfair, don't you think?" Todd grinned and extended his hand. "Todd O'Brian, at your service." Diane smiled back, took the offered appendage and shook it firmly. "Diane Westing." Todd's brows rose and he studied her closely. "Westing?" he asked, rolling the name off his tongue. "Like in... Richard Westing? The lawyer?" Diane sighed. "Yes, he's my ex-husband." Todd almost choked on his drink. "Your ex-husband? What the fuck are you doing dancing on stage if you're the ex of the richest ass. . . I mean lawyer in the city?" Diane snickered. "I see you know him?" "More than I want to," Todd muttered under his breath. "Huh?" Diane asked, not having heard his mumbling because of the loud music. "I said I know of him." "Yeah, most people do. I know him though." She shuddered and then shrugged her shoulders. "But to answer your question, Richard and I divorced. I work here because I asked for nothing from him but one thing... and money wasn't it. Richard gave me what I wanted and that's all that matters." Todd chuckled. "A kid right?" Diane's brows lifted this time. "Yes, our son. I got Devon. Richard kept the divorce out of the paper as best he could, though it wasn't completely unavoidable, but like I said, I got Devon, Richard kept his money and his stellar reputation." She rolled her eyes at the last part of her statement. "Well, I've never met Devon, or Richard, but I've heard enough about Westing to know your son got the better end of the deal." Diane's eyes misted and she whispered, "No. . .I did." Todd reached over and squeezed her hand. "Why didn't you go to the police?" he asked. Diane was thrown off by the change of subject, but not as much as she was by the touch of the man who was still holding her hand. She thought of pulling it away, but as she stared at it, she knew she didn't want to. "I thought about it. I couldn't though. Ricky and the others. . .the cops would have wanted details and I couldn't have given those boys up, or you for that matter. Besides the man's gone. You guys got rid of him for me. He'll not be back around." Diane wanted to believe her words, but she knew it was just a matter of time before the man showed himself again. He'd spoken her son's name and that meant she had a stalker. "What did you do to him?" she suddenly asked. "Exactly what I said we would. We drove out a ways and dropped him behind an abandoned warehouse. I think one of the boys grabbed his ID, which pisses me off. But," he shrugged his shoulders, "taking his ID was better than offing the guy... not much better, but at least none of them are going away for murder." "No... just drugs someday." Todd frowned. "One day at a time." Diane shook her head. "It's not a good profession and I'm sorry to say... you seem too good a guy to be involved in that mess, as are those kids." "Diane, I'm a man. I've been around the block a few times. I know what I'm doing and when I'm doing it. Those boys... those kids you are referring to. . .they aren't kids. They carry weapons under their coats, knives in their boots and they'd slice ya as soon as you double crossed them. They aren't the innocents you think they are. None of us are." Diane frowned. "You all could do something better with your lives. You don't strike me as a pusher, or a dealer. You're too smart for that." Todd shrugged his shoulders. "It pays the bills." "What a dumb-ass excuse." She turned away and began to wait on other customers, though her thoughts remained on the gentleman that was finishing up his glass of coke. Todd watched Diane for several more minutes before turning himself around on his bar stool and glancing around at the thick crowd of revelers. He noted the dancers, admired them for a few seconds and then dismissed them as the thought of a gyrating Diane filled his mind. He wouldn't mind seeing her move, but not in this dive. He wanted her in his bedroom, purring around another type of pole. Todd chuckled to himself and brought his attentions to the patrons of the club and off of the sexy dancer, now bartender. He noted that Ricky had tucked himself into a corner and was fondling some chick he'd probably picked up from somewhere up the block. He wasn't expecting to deal with Ricky tonight, but since he was there he figured he'd kill two birds with one stone. Todd grabbed his soda and made his way to the man and the woman. He pulled a chair from a nearby table and turned it to face Ricky and his date. "Hey," he said, taking a seat and nodding to the woman. He noted with a smirk where the woman's hands were and glanced at Ricky. "Enjoying yourself?" Ricky laughed and blew a puff of smoke into the air. Todd sniffed it, not surprised to find the smell of nicotine rolling above him. Ricky wasn't stupid. He wouldn't smoke his weed in a public place, at least not one that he wanted to always be welcomed in. "I'm having a ball. I'm sure we both could if you're interested." Ricky kissed the woman on the neck and whispered in her ear. Immediately she turned her lusty gaze to Todd and began to move toward him. "No. . .I'm content, but thanks for the offer." The woman's features fell slightly, but she recovered quickly, shrugged her shoulders and settled back against Ricky. "Any word?" Todd asked Ricky once the girl's attentions were back on the object of her affections. Ricky hissed through clenched teeth and shifted against the talented fingers that were working on his growing erection. "Yeah. I was gonna call you tomorrow. Dino says two days and we can meet him and his boss. Ohhh yeah, right there." Todd grimaced in disgust as he heard Ricky's voice thicken. He rose from the table and frowned down at the woman masturbating Ricky's shaft. "Careful you two. I have a feeling Joe wouldn't appreciate the show you're providing. You'd hate to loose the scenery around here. I'll meet you at the usual spot in a few days then. Same time?" Ricky groaned and pulled his "date's" hand away. "Yeah, same as before. Come on babe. I know of a place we can finish up." Ricky pulled the woman through the crowd, his cock head clearly visible to anyone with half a mind to look. Todd shook his head and headed back to the bar. "Where'd she go?" he muttered and then heard Joe laugh. He looked at the owner of the Slippery Stocking and waited for him to answer him. Joe chuckled again. "Smitten are ya?" he asked and topped off Todd's drink. "She went home." Todd rose from his seat and frowned. "Alone?" he asked, the anger in his voice mingled with concern. Joe shook his head. "No. Tate's driving her. She told me you were involved in saving her. Your drinks are on me." Todd grinned. "Thanks, but there were others involved. You offer them all drinks you could be out of business." "We'll keep this between us. I think I can afford to keep you supplied in coke." Todd laughed again, thanked Joe and ordered another soda. When Joe returned once more, he asked about Diane. By the time Todd left the club, he had learned a lot about the young dancer and was even more intrigued. Her son was her life, but that he could tell when she'd said his name. The bouncer had returned and that too had set Todd's mind at ease. Diane was home safe and sound. He left and drove home, where he climbed into bed and thought of the beautiful creature and how tempting she'd look if she were using the bedpost as her own dancing pole. It was another hour before Todd was finally able to succumb to the sleep his body desperately needed. ~ ~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~ ~ Kevin flexed his leg, wincing at the pain. He stared at the woman, now broken and lifeless. She'd been fun, but now it was high time to leave. He'd enjoyed the private sanctuary of her tiny apartment and the fact that she'd become his personal play thing, but now he had to face his cousin, admit that he'd fucked up again, receive his punishment and move on. The scent of gasoline filled his nostrils after he opened the cap to the red container. He poured the fuel over the prostitute and then drizzled it around her bed, floor, and several pieces of furniture. After that he dropped the canister by the door, bent down and lit a pile of previously saturated clothes. He jumped back as the flames consumed the vapors. After several seconds his smile rose wide and he left the apartment. Kevin hobbled along several blocks before waving down a taxi. Once inside its steel interior, he pulled out several bills, confiscated from his victim's home and offered them to the cab driver. "Take me as far as you can on that." He rattled off the address and directions to where he needed to go and sat back in his seat. Five minutes later the cab was pulling to the side to allow a fire truck access to the street. Kevin snickered and watched out of his rear-view mirror as the red engine wailed down the road and he headed in the opposite direction. The cab ride eventually came to an end. The driver having hauled his passenger out of the Windy City and past several suburbs. Kevin whispered a thanks and got out. His thumb would get him the rest of the way, or he'd walk. His cousin's cottage in the woods wasn't too far now. He wondered if the cab driver had been more generous with his time than his money normally would have allowed. He didn't think of that for long as he lifted his hand in the air and tried to hitch a ride. An hour, then another passed before the pain in his knee was too great and Kevin was forced to take a break. He slumped down on the side of the road and closed his eyes. The rest however, was short lived. The sound of a car slowing down brought him out of his self-induced pity party and he looked up to see a black Ford Taurus pulling over. Kevin thanked his lucky stars and pulled himself up just as the driver opened the car door. "Need a lift?" the man asked. He frowned slightly at Kevin's appearance, a look not lost on Kevin. "Yeah, thanks." He hobbled over and slipped into the passenger side of the car, buckled up and waited for the stranger to return to his place behind the wheel. Once he was inside, Kevin turned and again thanked the young man. He had no interest in hurting the fellow, so he wanted to quickly set his mind at ease. "I appreciate this. My wife and I had a huge fight. I've been walking off my anger and well... got a bum knee, so I was taking a break." The man nodded his head as if he understood where Kevin was coming from. "Where do you need to go?" he asked and pulled back onto the road. Kevin told him the address and the man smiled. "I recognize it. I thought that place was abandoned. Didn't know any one lived in that old cottage in the woods. Matter of fact, thought the state owned it... part of the park or something." Kevin shook his head. "Nah, the park goes right up to the edge. The land the cottage sits on is still owned by my family. My cousin lives there. I figure it's a safe place to hide from the wife." Kevin winked and the stranger laughed. "So how close can you get me?" he asked. "I'll take ya the rest of the way. It's not too far out of my direction. Why not sit back and relax. I could tell that knee was troubling you when you rose up from the ground." "Thanks man," Kevin answered and reclined his seat, then closed his eyes. "My lucks changing," he muttered, though he knew he still had to deal with his cousin and that never was a pain free encounter. Kevin awoke with a start and the man beside him chuckled. "We're here," he said and nodded toward the scenery outside of Kevin's window. Kevin blinked the sleepiness from his eyes and focused on his surroundings. "Seems we are, thanks man," he said, offering his hand. He gripped the stranger's palm in a tight clench, shook it and then opened the car door. He stepped out and closed the door firmly behind him. The driver drove away, leaving Kevin in the mist of some swirling dust and leaves that its tires had kicked up. "Time to face the music," he muttered under his breath and proceeded to walk toward the cabin. Once there he opened the front door and stepped inside. He breathed in the aroma of homemade chili. His cousin always made the best food. Why the man hadn't gone into Culinary Arts was beyond Kevin's reasoning. But instead the older and much revered cousin had become a boxer and then later he'd left that life to become nothing more than a muscle man for local dives. Kevin left the foyer of the cottage and made his way to the kitchen. He leaned against the door frame and watched with interests at the two occupants. The woman, one he hadn't met yet, sat in a corner. Her head was bowed and her ankles tied together. Her hands however were free of the restraints that she'd been wearing. Marks on her wrists showed that she'd struggled against some form or rope, but now she was being allowed to use her hands to eat. His cousin's back was turned away from the girl. Kevin glanced at the imposing figure that stood at the sink. He admired his cousin and that was why he was still there. He'd always wanted to be like him, big, balky, smart, cunning, and even strangely attractive with his multiple tattoos. "Where the fuck have you been? And who the fuck was that?" Kevin blanched and glanced at the girl. She still hadn't said anything, nor looked up at him. "How long has she been here?" he asked and walked into the room. He stopped in front of the naked woman and bent his knees to stare at her. His hand gripped her hair and he pulled her head back to gaze into her eyes. "Damn she's close. . .I bet you've been using the wig when you mount her though." "I asked you a question... two in fact." Kevin winked at the girl's pale features and then released the grip on her hair, rose from his position on the floor, and pulled out a chair from under the table. "I ran into problems. Some asshole wanting to be the next Superhero of Chicago shot me in the leg and I lost her. Then I spent the last week and a half with some slut. Got myself all medicated and tended to, then figured it was time to get back here." "And the car?" "Some guy gave me a lift. Nothin' more. Nothin' less," Kevin said. He looked back at the girl again. "So how long have you had her?" he asked again. His cousin turned. He wiped his hand on a towel and frowned. "Don't matter. I've had enough of her. She's gone all quiet on me and shit. No fun when they do that. You however. . .you really fucked up!" He slammed his fist on the table and growled at Kevin. "I wanted Dee with me this week! I had it all planned out! You were supposed to deliver her. I left work early, drove like a bat out of hell to get here and deal with this bitch! Good thing I waited though, or I'd have been stuck out here alone. This isn't like my apartment in the city. There ain't jack shit to do out here unless you have some company. I was expecting Diane!" His fist reached out and Kevin took the expected blow. His head snapped back and he felt the second plunge into his face. He didn't try to defend himself. His cousin was right. He'd fucked up and he deserved to be punished. After all that the man before him had done for him, how could he ever strike back. After the third punch was delivered he waited for the fourth, which never came. He had remained in his seat, though he'd gripped the table with his long, thick fingers. "I'm sorry man," he whispered and then licked his lip. He tasted blood and winced at the small sting of pain that went through him.