She would contact her employers and offer herself to them if they promised to leave the town alone. Leave Jason alone. Her bike was in his garage. It was a bittersweet decision, but as soon as his back was turned, she would leave Jason Fowler forever.
Blanche took her plates to the kitchen sink the moment Jason’s phone rang and he was taken away from the table. “Okay,” she heard him say. “I will be right there.”
It was kind of perfect, although sad. Jason flew out of the house, hopped on his bike, and was gone. It was the last time she expected to ever see him after what she was about to do. She was going to go against his wishes and leave. It would be seen as a total act of betrayal on her part.
As soon as she knew she was alone, she took a breath and contacted the Norte Mexicali. She was directed to go see Hawk. Hawk had been released from the hospital. His hand was in a cast. She brought all of the cash that he had given her. She would give him her body if she had to. She was shaken.
“Hola, mujer,” he laughed. “I take it you got the word. You come to me and we will see how we can come to an understanding.” Hawk gave her directions to the restored mining shack that he and the others were staying at. She started to tell him to just give him the address and she would find it on GPS.
He laughed. “Mujer, you are not going to find this place by GPS. You will be lucky if you find it by my guidance. I am not stupid enough to send pings to any towers, besides.
As a trained assassin, though she had never killed a person yet, the response Hawk gave her said so many ominous things to her. Still, she rode. Her trek took her even farther, up to a higher elevation in the San Gabriel Mountains, to a more remote location.
Hawk advised her that at one point, she would have to park the bike and complete the journey by foot. He half joked her to beware of bears, but he was not joking when he told her not to come armed. No guns.
And no credit cards.
She had sliced his cheek wide open with her bank card. His hand was already smashed from her phone. He would require surgery. The throw of the drill bit that impaled his wrist was the killer; he was in a cast now for at least two months.
Maybe he knew, maybe he didn’t know, but as he fed her the details of the injuries she had caused him, he set the wheels in motion to formulate a plan. If he didn’t know he was doing that, if it was just because he couldn’t resist trying to make her feel bad – which she did not – she was ahead of his game. If he had done so strategically, she maintained a healthy level of fear.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The longest part of the journey was the hike to the front door. She ditched her riding shoes in a place where she could find them later and switched them out for spiked heels. There was a method to her madness, but they were ridiculous to walk in.
He was correct in that, because of the foliage on the trees – the San Gabriel Mountains had some gorgeous plant life – the place was bit difficult to detect at first; the structure used so many natural elements. A person could get lost in these mountains awfully quickly.
Immediately as Blanche neared the door, she inventoried her surroundings for potential weapons. She could have carried a gun anyway, but he would have found it. When she was some fifty yards away, Hawk opened the door and shoved forward a person whose head was covered in a pillowcase. Jason. She would know him any way.
Blanche’s heart beat with fury in her chest. She was about to kill her first person ever if she hadn’t already signed the death sentence for the man she loved. This would have to be fast. She had to distract Hawk.
“I think I need to show you I have come unarmed,” she said in a sweet and pleasant voice. One of the reasons she was selected to be El Salvador was because of her sweet face.
Looking girlish created weakness in her foe. It probably wouldn’t work with Hawk, but Blanche had everything to gain in trying. She raised the hem of her shirt up to expose her sculpted stomach and amazing breasts.
“I will decide when and what you do,” he said, stopping her mid motion. So Blanche began to lower her shirt. “I didn’t tell you to do that. Continue. I want you to strip.”
Blanche had hoped he would do say that. She began to strip, removing her shirt as quickly as possible so that she could see and have her hands free as soon as possible. She was about to remove her shoes when he hollered, “Leave ‘em on.”
“I will if you make him watch,” Blanche said. She stood on a soft pine need carpet, in spike heeled shoes, wearing a bra and lace thong.
Hawk laughed. “You want him to watch me as I fuck you?”
Blanche shrugged and smiled. “Sure, why not?”
He roughly yanked the tape from around Jason’s throat. She died inside at the pain he must have caused, but at least she could see his beautiful face. She watched as he blinked to adjust to the light. Hawk had beaten him. Hawk was going to die.
She began to knead her breast lasciviously. “That looks nice, mujer, but don’t think for a second I am going to be enticed,” said Hawk.
“If I am going to get it, I might as well make it fun, no?” Blanche asked.
Now Hawk shrugged. “I like it when people watch. I like to perform,” he said.
“Come perform for me, big man,” Blanche replied, strutting towards him like an alley cat. “Where am I going to get it?”
What she meant was indoors or out but he answered, “In the mouth, in the pussy, and in the ass, mujer.”
And Blanche thought, and you’re getting it right between the eyes, vaquero. They closed the distance between them and she asked, “Are you going to fuck me on the ground right here before God and Jason Fowler?”
“I thought I would, for starters,” he answered.
“Your friends aren’t here are they? Are they next or do I only service you?” she said trying to throw in as much sensuality into her voice as she could stand.
“No,” he said abruptly. “You are mine. And mine alone.”
Well that’s a relief, she thought. He was almost close enough. Almost. Almost. Blanche had to make sure that her next few moves were surgeon-precise. Just as the huge and dangerous Hawk was in touching distance, stooping to come in for a kiss, she did a little kick behind her butt and flung her shoe into her hand.
In a flash, she drove the spiked heel of her shoe into his forehead. With a follow through, she had the other shoe in her hand like a mitten, impaling the soft area of the side of his head. He collapsed, with her three hundred dollar Cole Hahn shoes embedded in his head.
Jason.
In bare feet and no clothing, she rushed to his aid. He was disoriented. Maybe drugged, maybe injured, but he was not fully comprehending where he was or what was happening to him. She let him stand where he was while she checked out the insides of the house. If it was empty, it might be the safest place for them.
It would be too great a distance for her to travel with a disabled man. The place was, in fact, empty. She was sure it wouldn’t be for long. She would have to try to get a signal and then gather up as many weapons as she could. She was in the fight of their lives.
She set Jason on the couch and then raced out to Hawk to make sure he had no weapons. It was hard to do, but she continued to work on him to make sure he was dead. She took his cellphone, his keys and his cash. She put her clothes back on and then went back into the house to secure it.
She called 911 and then she tried to call Dana directly on Hawk’s phone. She searched around to see if there was a stash of Jason’s stuff. She looked for his phone, his cash, and his keys. She was in the kitchen when she saw that Hawk, she guessed, had his laptop up and that it got internet somehow. She emailed a message to the sheriff’s, to Mrs. Cranston, to the San Juan Café, and to The Motorcycle Place. She needed help. Jason needed help.
Completely armed, she went back over to Jason to examine him. She noted an injection site on his neck. It looked as though he had been drugged. While that was not good, it gave her hope that Jason was not out of it due to injury. Still, she needed to
get him to the hospital.
He started to laugh. “Goddamn, you are beautiful,” he said. “You went on that bridge. The look on your face when you realized you were stuck.” Jason was clearly high. “I was by the bridge. That’s where we keep our gold and I heard you like a Billy goat. You know that story? Billy Goats Gruff? I saw you and oh my gosh. I knew you were one of them, though, and it broke my heart. Every time one of them came in to town, I was like is this the one? Is this the one who’s going to kill me? ’Cause there was a rumor and then it was a straight-up fact.”
Jason’s words were slurred. It was strange to see him screwed up. “I have called an ambulance. Help is on the way,” she said to him.
He frowned and his personality turned. “Don’t give me your bullshit, girl. You were sent here to kill me. You. You were the one. You got in my bed. You made me fall head over heels in love with you and then you ripped the rug out from under me. Then this bastard said he was going to hurt you, so naturally, I jumped like the fool I am.”
“I am the same fool,” she said, “because I came to him thinking I was going to protect you.”
“You were naked out there. You were going to fuck him in front of me. I don’t want to hear any more,” he said. “Goddamn, you’re beautiful. I am so in love with you.”
“I am in love with you, too,” she said with little fear he would remember. She was a little worried that his repetition might have something to do with a concussion, though without question, he was intoxicated.
Blanche and Jason could hear a rustle outside. It was either Norte Mexicali members or the Seven Devils Motorcycle Club. Blanche cocked her weapon and took cover. She spied out the window and stood down. It was the good guys.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
She opened the window to tell them that Jason was in there, he was probably okay, but that he needed medical attention. She opened the door with the gun in her hand, though not drawn. A shot sailed into the house and winged her. She dropped her weapon and it went off; fortunately it didn’t hit anyone outside. She fell and evaded a second round. Had she not dropped, they later determined she would have died.
Jason had the wherewithal to shout, “Hold your fire!”
Upon his words, they rushed into the house, all but trampling over Blanche. In his slurred speech, he explained that she had rescued him, but their reception of her was complete ice. They humanely attended to her. Dana hefted her body over his shoulder, not to ease her burden, but because he wasn’t patient enough to guide her through the woods. A squad of club members secured the route as they made it to the main road where emergency response could access them.
Blanche was bleeding pretty heavily even though Dana had performed first aid on her. After the stress of the situation, she was hard-pressed to stay conscious. Her arm was killing her. Still, she used every ounce of her awareness to determine whether or not Jason was okay. She did hear that they couldn’t give him anything at all until they figured out what the Norte Mexicali had injected him with. Dana made a point of riding with her in the ambulance. They were going to Los Angeles, that much she knew. She could feel the sheriff's cold hard stare press into her spirit. Blanche finally passed out.
The mercy of slipping into unconsciousness was that she got to dream. It seemed the most time she spent with Jason was in her imagination. As she peeked out of an eyelid every once in a while to check out the EMTs, she could swear she was seeing Jason in uniform, riding with her in the ambulance. She smiled. "I'm so in love with you," she professed.
She heard Dana say, "I think she thinks you're Jason, man. Tell her you hate her and you want nothing to do with her."
The pain in Blanche's body and spirit were immense. "I can hear you say that," she said. Dana reached over and pressed her arm. Blanche screamed.
"Hey," the EMT protested.
"She brought this shit here. I didn't hurt her."
"I am not going sit here and let you do that to a patient of mine."
"She's a prisoner of mine and as soon as she gets the all-clear, I am arresting her. She's a murderer."
"The way I heard it, she saved Jason's life. Maybe if you had had the balls to take care of that menace-"
Dana rushed the EMT and didn't let him finish that sentence. They tussled and crashed into Blanche. The driver pulled over to the side. Perhaps the largest of the Seven Devils opened up the doors of the ambulance that he had been driving.
"What the fuck's going on back here?" He stared at Dana. "You ride up front with me."
Blanche ventured another peek at the EMT. It was Jason and as he smiled back at her, it was all better. She was reassured. She fell asleep and gave into her dreams, which were fevered. The EMT Jason transformed and he was now long-haired in the dress of her ancient people, long before the Spanish mixed with them.
She was a nearly naked princess on the cool earth floor of their dwelling. Her graceful, exquisite body was strung with fine turquoise-colored beading, but she was bare chested. She saw herself looking down at her body, calm and trusting. Her breasts were sweet and perky. Her pale-skinned nipples were relaxed. Jason was her husband, her conqueror, her master, blowing healing smoke towards her, placing a large, powerful brown hand on her flat abdomen. Jason made an awesome-looking warrior. Her chief.
His chest was bare, as well. The powerful definition of his muscles - shoulders, chest, the cut of his stomach - erupted from his body like the San Gabriel Mountains. The proud features of his face, his serious steely eyes that were softened with the suggestion of mischief, the perfect rise of his nose, and the ultra-lusciousness of his mouth, gazed upon her, letting her know he was in charge. She was in his care.
In her fevered dream, the smoke was working on her. She was high and horny. It worked on her head, but it went straight between her legs. She ached and needed him. He had to know.
He took a stone from a small tidy pile to the side of them and placed it between her breasts. It was nicely warm. He placed another slightly down and continued making a row of them towards her thighs. The heat sent lascivious waves throughout her lower body and she was ripe with arousal.
He parted her legs and placed a warmed stone at the apex of her entrance, on her clit, and then one slightly in the opening. He moved the rock on her tiny swollen nub of bliss in small, pressured circles. Any self-consciousness she had about pleasured this way vanished as she felt her body click and she was well on her way towards a luscious orgasm. The warmth of the stone partially inside of her made for intense, unspeakable sensations.
The combination of temperature, shape, and weight with Blanche's overwhelming attraction for Jason delivered perhaps her most unforgettable climax. Part of her knew this was just some weird hallucination and yet this was real. She could feel every speck of sensation electrify her from her head to her toes. She could feel her clit pulse and reverberate down through the channels of her entrance. She was soaked with ecstasy.
Her chief came round and stood between her legs hot with pleasure and the warmth of the tools that he had used, and he penetrated her. Blanche's eyes fluttered as she struggled to comprehend the wondrous feeling of his huge cock inside her. He pumped her steadily, her breasts bobbling against his rhythm as he held her gaze steady. She looked away for a second, as she got lost in the erotic plane he cast her on.
"Look at me," he commanded. And she struggled in her wavering consciousness to obey. He was such a beautiful man. The look on his face as he drove into her unforgettable. "Come for me again," he said. "Come with me inside you."
Her head thrashed to and fro, that much more turned on with just a hint of graphic talk. It was her guilty secret to take pleasure in dirty talk. His was such a honeyed voice; it was all the more erotic.
She reached between them and brought her waning orgasm back to life. Her flesh clenched against his in a furious frenzy. He cried out, as if in battle with passion and possession.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Blanche slept. She spent untold time in blackness. Then she ca
me to with her uninjured arm cuffed to a cot in the Gold Creek jail.
"She's awake," she heard Jason say.
She lifted her eyes cautiously. His facial injuries were fading, but still obvious. The purple around his eye looked like a war mask, but he was not the warm and reassuring man who had found his way into the ambulance to hold her hand.
“What’s going on?” she managed to say. Her shoulder that had been hurt before the big blow up was super painful now. Unfortunately, it was attached at the arm and cuffed to the bed. The casted arm was horrendously sore. She hurt, inside and out.
“What’s going on, El Salvador, is you are under arrest for the death of one Hortensio Jiminez, a.k.a. Hawk, and conspiracy to commit murder, against namely me,” Jason replied. “I have to tell you, I don’t know what to do with my anger looking at all the documentation against you. I know you said you never killed before, but I don’t think poor Hawk had a chance. I know I for sure didn’t.”
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