What the Outlaw Keeps

by Samantha Leal

  Chapter 1

  Club SINZ was celebrating its grand opening, and had pulled out all the stops to make their first night in business a memorable one. The place was packed with everyone from porn stars to rich losers to travel writers, all desperate to be part of the Caribbean's newest adult getaway. Club SINZ's advertising promised to make the Hedonism resorts look like a church picnic. Among the guests was a contingent of Estonian tourists, who not coincidentally, just happened to be beautiful, open-minded, and available women. The owners had clearly "stocked the pond" with professionals to ensure their initial guests left with fond memories - and maybe a few painful urinary tract infections as well.

  Cass Bauer, the main bartender was more interested in the clock than the crowd. She had important plans tonight that didn't involve Club SINZ. The last month of opening preparations had been chaotic, forcing her to work endless hours. Being an army veteran she had leadership skills, which had inspired management to entrust her with more responsibilities than the usual mixologist. She'd practically built the main bar as well as helped with everything from overall renovations to the hiring of local staff. SINZ was the first American business to open on Isla de Tortura, so the Caribbean locals eagerly lined up for the relatively high paying jobs. Two dollars and twenty-seven cents an hour represented big money on Tortura.

  Designed like a wagon wheel, Club SINZ had a central pool, surrounded by small cabanas. Tucked behind those were the VIP cabanas, which of course came with private Jacuzzis. The largest building held the dining hall, indoor bar and the industrial sized kitchen facilities. There was a band pavilion and even a miniature golf course. The abundance of outdoor bars guaranteed liquor would always be within staggering distance.

  Cass worked the main patio bar. She also taught windsurfing and kickboxing on the beach, but since the clientele lived on a diet of alcohol, frozen shrimp and pharmaceuticals, the turnout for physical fitness had been… underwhelming. But her time at the beach hadn't been a waste, because that was where she had met Talin, who was, of all things, the island's Voodoo Priest. At first she had been understandably wary of him. Talin had to be the most eccentric person she'd ever met, and that was saying something. You might wonder what an ex-military bartender had in common with an islands-raised witch doctor, and you would be surprised. Chemistry can go a long way. Over the course of a few weeks she'd happily become his lover as well as his pupil, of all things. If her current infatuation held, she planned to stay on the island with Talin for the rest of her life. It was a big change of plans, but she was impulsive like that. She’d been getting by like that for years and it always seemed to work out, so she wasn’t worried about it. She was actually pretty excited about the future.

  Initially Cass planned to kill a few months on Isla de Tortura, and then drift on to the next spot that held her interest. Keep moving and don't tie yourself down had become her mantra since leaving the military. Her first months in the civilian world had been dicey though. Without the boundaries of military life her behavior had gotten reckless and out of control. The endless parade of anonymous sexual encounters and all night drinking binges had gotten more and more extreme as time went on. None of it so much as put a dent in the pain that enveloped her though. She had actually been trying in vain to envelop herself in a nice cushion of emotional numbness, but to no avail. Eventually she had had to acknowledge that Post Traumatic Stress Disorder was really “a thing”, that she had it, and that it wasn't going away on its own. Once she had acknowledged and begun to face it, she'd come a long way in just a few months. Her drinking was almost nonexistent; she'd stopped banging nameless losers and, most amazingly, hadn't beaten the shit out of anyone in a month or more. But the customer leaning on the bar at that moment was really challenging her on that last note at the moment.

  He was an oily looking guy, who clearly bought his way into the grand opening. They probably had charged him double. He was definitely a beta male who bought his clothes in the alpha male store. From the moment he had approached the bar, he'd been finding excuse after excuse to make casual contact with Cass' hands. He also kept offering to buy her drinks. Maybe he hadn’t noticed that she was the bartender and already had access to any drink she wanted. Fucking idiot.

  "So what time do you finish up here?" he asked, for the sixth time.

  Amazing, she thought… in what he should have identified as a perfect storm of women with high blood alcohol and low self-esteem, this jackass fixates on the one woman he can't have. Cass counted backwards in her head, engaging an old trick she often used to diffuse the inner rage this guy seemed intent on releasing.

  "I'm on until eight, and then I have someplace to be."

  "You should be with me, I've got plenty of booze, a little 420 and more… if you’re into a little P&P?"

  "P&P?"

  "’Party and play’ babe, the only way to fly." He discreetly held up a little baggie of either cocaine or meth.

  Cass casually reached over to a bowl, picking up two walnuts with a showy flourish of her hand. She put her hand in front of the jerk's face and squeezed, crushing the nuts easily. He got the message.

  "Um, I guess I’ll go check out the Jacuzzi for a bit," He said back peddling away from the bar.

  "Good idea," Cass responded flatly, tossing the walnut shards into the trash. Who the hell ate walnuts in the tropics anyway?

  The fleeing jerk bumped into Jack Godwin, an alleged travel writer who asked way too many questions to be writing for Travel and Leisure. He was intelligent, and good-looking in a rough Sean Bean kind of way. But Cass had been watching him long enough to see through his travel writer facade.

  "Hey Cass, how's your night going?" Jack asked, smiling. He had brilliant green eyes with a penetrating gaze that never wavered. When he asked a question he heard your answer, but also seemed to know immediately whether you were hiding something else or not. "Can I get another house special?"

  The house special was a "Mai Tai" rip-off that contained enough sweet fruit juices to hide the rotgut liquor that gave it its punch.

  "No Problem Jack," Cass said, breaking the house rules by using a non-toxic brand of rum. This was Jack's third drink, but she'd seen him leave the other two, mostly intact, on empty tables. She surmised that Jack wanted to fit in with the drunks while staying sober and alert. Travel writer my ass, she thought. He’s probably some federal agent hunting crooks on the lam. This resort would be like flypaper for horny criminals.

  "So Cass, I hear you've been spending a lot of time with the locals?"

  "Yeah, I've made some friends," Cass replied, trying not to sound defensive at the prying question.

  "How are they feeling, you know about the resort and things in general? I've heard there's been trouble?"

  "Nothing I've noticed, but I'm too busy with my boyfriend to listen to the gossip."

  "So there is talk then?"

  Cass put down the glass she was washing, "Why is a travel writer so interested in local politics? I thought you just wrote about cheap buffets and places to get Seaweed Wraps?"

  "I'm just a big picture kind of guy I guess," He replied innocently.

  "Uh huh,"

  A nasal female voice cut off their witty banter, "Hi, can I have four shots of gold please? Bill it to cabana seven." She was Fawn, a pretty young girl with long brown hair and a great pair of natural tits. Cass could tell because she'd abandoned her bikini top three tequilas ago. She turned to Jack, "Hi I'm Fawn, you're really cute."

  "Thank you Fawn, it's nice to meet you too." Jack replied politely.

  "I'm in cabana seven with Hot Stuff Productions. I'm starring in a movie tomorrow."

  "How nice for you. What's the movie?"

  "First-Time Bukkake Babes #27, but we don't have enough dudes, so if a cute guy like you wanted to drop by I can get you in."

  "Oh I don't know. I've never been in a movie before. I'd probably forget all my lines."

  "Oh you don't have to remember anything, you just, well, you know… like
the other guys… it'll be fun."

  Cass couldn't help eavesdropping. She could hear the uncertainty in Fawn's voice, like she was really trying to convince herself it would be fun.

  "Okay, I'll try to swing by, but no promises."

  "That's so cool, I'm really excited," Fawn replied grinning. She grabbed her tray of tequilas and bounced off towards the Jacuzzi.

  Jack gave her a little wave, "Good luck with that." He turned back to Cass, "Guess I'll see if I can find some great story for my blog."

  "That's so cool, I'm so excited!" Cass replied, mimicking Fawn.

  Jack Laughed, "Careful Cass, don't mock the afflicted." With that he slipped back into the crowd.

  "Travel writer my ass," Cass mumbled to herself. She glanced at the clock, smiled and immediately started cashing out. Her twelve-hour shift was over, and she had someplace to be.

  Another bartender took her post and Cass made a beeline for the staff exit. She knew escaping from Stalag-Sinz wasn't easy, with management always on the prowl, trying to shanghai staff into extra shifts. Cass took a practiced detour behind the VIP Cabanas. She'd almost made it when Eric, the resort manager, appeared, blocking her path.

  "Cass, where are you going?"

  "Uh, out of here? It's been twelve hours Eric, I'm done."

  "But it's our big night, the president of the island is making his speech in a few hours. I need everybody… including my best bartender." Eric was half pleading and half demanding.

  "Well, first of all, I told you three times, grand opening or not, I had plans later tonight, and second of all, he's a Prime Minister… not a President."

  "Oh it's the same thing."

  "No, the PM is appointed by the standing legislature whereas the president is elected by popular vote… and I'm still leaving, good night." She slipped past him before he got any more whining in. With Eric shaken off Cass continued towards the staff exit.

  She rounded the corner near cabana seven and paused. Fawn was in the Jacuzzi making out with some lucky college boy while a few other guests lounged on the nearby deck chairs. They seemed to be ignoring Fawn's little play-date. They were probably too jaded by wild group action and other kinky stuff to care about a college boy and a hick town girl. But Cass found it intriguing. She was a voyeur at heart. If she'd continued on her initial post military drinking and partying trajectory she might have actually have graduated to become a full blown sex and drug addled degenerate.

  What really got her attention was Fawn's demeanor. Without a crowd and cameras she was just a shy girl making out with a cute boy. Cass couldn't help thinking that after her descent into porn stardom Fawn might someday look back on this, fondly remembering the nights when she was just a regular girl.

  Cass watched as they kissed, awkwardly at first, before quickly falling into a rhythm. The lucky guy moved down, tasting Fawn's ample breasts. The new club was already living up to its name. He dabbed his tongue on her nipples, then began to suck on them alternately. Fawn cooed softly, loving the attention.

  Cass took a step back into the shadows so she could enjoy the show more discreetly. The couple were a little drunk, a little clumsy, but very cute. Although she couldn’t see it, she knew Fawn was stroking his cock beneath the water. It was probably rock hard already, she knew, getting a little turned on herself.

  The college boy hopped up, and sat on the edge of the Jacuzzi. Cass had been right; he was fully erect and ready to go. He had apparently lost his shorts a little earlier, assuming he had been wearing any to start with. Fawn pushed her head between his legs, kissing his inner thighs while stroking him. She slowly ran her tongue along his shaft, never breaking eye contact. She was definitely studying to be a star.

  College boy moaned, "Oh that feels so good."

  Fawn slipped his cock into her mouth, savoring every inch.

  Cass could tell college boy was fighting for control, holding back the urge to release already. Fawn continued sucking away until his entire cock was down her throat. Fawn clearly had a gift for oral sex. Practice does make perfect, she reasoned.

  The boy slid back into the water, coaxing Fawn to take his place. As she did, he spread her legs wide and kissed her inner thighs.

  "Oh, that's nice, yeah keep going," Fawn moaned.

  Cass fought the urge to laugh. She didn’t think College boy was really so much interested in pleasuring Fawn as he just wanted a time out to keep from shooting his wad during the first round. Having said that, he was still a pretty enthusiastic pussy eater from what she could tell.

  His tongue ran across her labia before he parted her lips and poked it inside.

  Fawn's legs stretched out, toes curled as he dug in. It wasn't gentle kissing; he was running his full tongue across her pussy, increasing the tempo with each lick.

  Good work, Cass thought. Some sorority girl must have given him a little coaching. He went at it with the energy of a thirsty dog drinking a bowl of water. When did I get so jaded, she laughed at her inner running commentary.

  Fawn bounced up and down in time to his licking, throwing her head back and moaning.

  After a while the college boy came up for air. He coaxed her to turn his back to her. She seemed a little confused, but with a little guidance she figured out the standing doggy style pose. He pressed his cock against her ass, ready to slip inside.

  "Hold on a second," Fawn said, breathe panting in her throat. She struggled to reach a little tray. Club SINZ was kind enough to leave trays of condoms within easy grasp.

  "Oh shit, really?" The college boy said, sounding disappointed, "I can just pull out, like you do in the pornos."

  "Nope, no glove, no love," Fawn replied.

  Good for you, Cass thought, stick to your guns girl.

  College boy was too excited to protest, so he clumsily slipped on the rubber. Then he slowly pushed his cock into her pussy. Fawn moaned in pleasure as he penetrated her fully. He pumped his thighs as she shook her hips in time, almost dancing in place.

  The tempo increased, as his breath became shorter. Fawn made little singsong panting sounds, then moaned uncontrollably.

  His thrusting stopped, muscles tensed.

  "Oh yes," Fawn moaned.

  Cass was happy to hear Fawn was having a real orgasm…’cause a girl can tell.

  College boy suddenly pulled out, yanking off the condom, pumping a load of cum across Fawn's ass.

  "Oh shit, yeah, that's it!" He yelled, smearing his cum across her ass.

  "Did you just cum on my back?" Fawn asked, sounding a little grossed out.

  "Oh yeah, just like in the movies. I figured you porno chicks were into that." And with that he slapped her ass and hopped out of the water. He wrapped the condom in a cocktail napkin and tossed it aside. "That was awesome, I have to go find my buddies. Man, they won't believe I banged a real porn chick." He gave her a kiss on the cheek, grabbed his swim trunks and sauntered off to brag about his conquest.

  Fawn sat alone on the edge of the Jacuzzi trying to wipe her back off with a towel.

  Cass felt bad for her. This was probably Fawn's first taste of how people in her business were perceived. She considered walking over and saying something to cheer her up, but remembered that she had someplace to be.

  Chapter 2

  Cass skipped the locker room, heading straight for the bike rack where her battered Vespa waited. She'd wasted precious time peeping on Fawn and the frat boy, and knew the manager was still on the prowl. She undid the chain, tossed it into the back compartment and hopped on. After three kicks the little engine finally kicked over. The Vespa was probably older than her twenty-five years, but bikes like it were precious commodities on Tortura. She pulled away just in time to see Eric walking to the exit gate.

  "So Eric, you're trying to head me off at the pass," She mumbled to herself.

  Thinking quickly she turned the Vespa and shot down a small construction path entrance, waving to the manager as she left the grounds. She'd made her escape.

  She bounce
d down the unpaved path, eventually coming to what passed for the main road. The sun had set and there were no streetlights, rendering the coast road pitch black. Cass had learned to be on the lookout out for the usual obstructions like donkey carts and stray cattle.

  She was rounding a corner when a pair of headlights suddenly blinded her. She cut to the right, barely avoiding an oncoming local bus. It was one of the rainbow painted antique vehicles that the island was famous for. It was strange to see because the local buses almost always stopped running at sunset. It was just too dangerous with the roads as narrow as they were.

  Her mind quickly went to the fact that in twenty minutes she would be in Talin's arms. He was the island's most revered Voodoo priest, a "Mambo" in the local parlance. Years ago Cass had written off religion as fairy tales for the gullible. While serving in Afghanistan she'd seen too much horror to believe any benevolent spirit watched over mankind. If there was a god, he was kind of an asshole she’d figured. Talin had changed all that, reawakening her spiritual beliefs and opening her heart to love. His soft words, affection and devotion pulling her back from the brink. Seeing her potential Talin had taken her under his wing, teaching her unbelievable things. When locals discovered she was Talon's protégé their respect for her had grown enormously. Somehow, despite all her running, she had discovered life and love on this tiny island, of all places.

  Chapter 3

  Colonel Hector Marcos knelt in prayer. He enjoyed the solitude of his private chapel, filled with candles, human skulls and a squawking chicken as it was. The centerpieces were a small collection of lovingly carved statues of skull faced, top-hatted deities. As a devout practitioner of Voodoo, the colonel had selected "The Barons" as his personal spirits. Baron Samedi- Lord of the Dead and Baron Krimenel- brutal enforcer of the spirit world. He would need their malevolent power for his plan to succeed. With practiced skill he decapitated the chicken in their honor. He followed up with an offering of fine cigars and vintage rum. The spirits would surly smile on his sacrifice. But his true offering was yet to come. Tonight there would be bloodshed and death carried out in their honor. What more could a spirit want?