Ensnared

by I N Foggarty

  She rose gently, before thrusting down hard a few times before picking up the pace again. Dylan could barely contain himself as she brought her hands up to play with her own nipples; her squeals intensified. “Urgh. Yes, Yes, Yes!” she screamed, riding him harder.

  “URGH!!!” This time it came from Dylan, his orgasm crashing down upon him and his load shooting deep inside her.

  A few thrust later and the girl threw her head back and let out a high pitched scream of her own. For a moment she just hung there, suspended on top of his penis. Her nails looking as though they had clawed into her own breasts. He barely registered her collapsing on top of him.

  Without a doubt that had to have been the best thing ever he decided, one final pulse shooting down his member. Lazily Jess rolled off of him and his penis finally slid out of her. Casually he allowed his right arm to wrap around her. He’d offer to take her out at some point but that was never a guarantee of anything. If in the end, she turned out to be just another notch on his bedpost then she would defiantly claim an entire chunk.

  She lay beside him listening to him breathe with a smile on her lips and unbeknownst to him, thinking the exact same thing.

  Last resort

  The last rays of sunshine bathed the tree-lined street with a warm, calming glow. The air felt pleasant and soothing, almost lulling. From a door beneath a rather precarious looking sign in the shape of a spaceship, Anna Richards emerged into the tranquillity. Her evening had been the exact opposite. The air had been stuffy, the customers drunk and rowdy and her head had pounded non-stop throughout. She didn’t envy Helen, who had to spend another two and a half hours in the non-air-conditioned, ‘rat’ infested, gods forsaken hell hole.

  The mild breeze caught a loose strand of her crimson hair and she sucked in a grateful breath. It had been a surprise that she’d managed to make it through the shift without passing out again; it had been that hot. Her skin felt warm again and her palms sweaty; along with the rest of her. If she had any time to spare once she got home a cold shower would definitely be top of the priority list. Setting as brisk a pace as her tired body would allow Anna began the trek home. Had she been feeling up to it she could have run all the way without issue. Not that she hadn’t already contemplated doing so. The state of the apartment may have merited it, however, such foolishness would probably result in another night on the hall floor. Thus a quick walking pace was the best she could hope to sustain. Unfortunately, it would only give her time to straighten up the living room and possibly the bathroom. She would just have to ensure the doors to the other rooms remained closed and that Matt did not wander into them. Despite this, she couldn’t wait to see him.

  ##

  For once the crosswalks were kind and without any other form of hiccup, Anna made it back to her street in what felt like a reasonable time. Opening the heavy outer door she made her way up the stone steps and into the apartment. Two minutes past nine, well that wasn’t a disaster she mused, heading into the kitchen to see if Matt had called. It took a moment for her phone to turn on. No calls or texts; it didn’t bother her. Hastily she typed a brief message saying that she was ok and still looking forward to him coming over. When she hit the send button the device quickly reminded of a sobering fact, she had no airtime. Anna groaned. Airtime, unfortunately, constituted a luxury item and one that she could rarely afford. Besides with Matt being the only one she would call or text it really had to be classed as a non-essential. In fact, she only carried the device to use in place of a watch and in the event someone from work, typically Jason, called.

  Pocketing the device she headed for the living room. Working her way through the carnage she turned the stereo on. Without even thinking she pulled her favourite album out of the CD rack and popped the disk inside the waiting tray. This wouldn’t be easy. As the opening 12-string guitar riff crept out of the speakers Anna surveyed the disaster zone around her. Time to get to work.

  Slowly bringing order to the chaos, the sweet music started to soothe her lingering headache, like cool water washing away dirt on a stone. By the time the second track concluded she had started to sing along. At first just a line or two here or there, but by the time track four with its deep piano intro began she had found her full voice. It was almost as if everything around her had melted into the background. The only things in existence were her and the music. Somewhere deep inside a foreign feeling stirred within Anna. Something almost akin to…happiness.

  Standing up straight Anna swept the strands of hair that clung to her sweaty forehead aside. The room hadn’t looked this good in a long time she realised. The carpet was still in dire need of a vacuum, though. However, she had neither the time nor the means. Perhaps if she asked Matt he might be able to borrow his mom’s vacuum cleaner for her to use. When the second side of the album began she swore to herself that she would find the time to do the rest of the apartment. Reaching into her pocket Anna checked her phone to see if she had perhaps failed to notice it vibrate or ring. She hadn’t. Though it still did not worry her. It was only twenty-five past nine and she had not asked Matt to show until after half past. That gave her just enough time to shower.

  Stripping her sticky work clothes from her body Anna deposited them on top of the already overflowing laundry hamper on her way to the bathroom. Two showers in one day was unheard of for her. Though given that both had been cold she would barely notice it on her next electricity bill. The water soothed her warm skin in a similar manner to how the music had her head. She had little time to enjoy it though for she had no intention of answering the door while trying to clutch a towel around her body. Running shampoo through her hair she picked up the tune of the slow song that currently played and started singing again. After rinsing her hair there was little time to linger. Gingerly Anna hopped out the cubical and took the last dry towel from the wire unit. Yet another thing to add to her never-ending list of chores.

  When the penultimate track kicked in she knew that it must nearly be twenty-five to ten. Matt should be there any minute. Wrapping her hair in the damp towel Anna made her way to the bedroom. Opening her wardrobe she rooted around inside it, looking for something slightly nicer than her everyday jeans and music related t-shirts. Eventually, she settled on a pair of black dress jeans and a red and black strappy top.

  Once dressed she dried her hair as best she could and tied it back into a ponytail. When she looked at herself in the mirror she could see that she had lost weight since the last time she had worn her current outfit. Instead of hugging her waistline the trousers had the same baggy look that her regular jeans did So much so that she had to find a belt from her work trousers to put on. The top was slightly too big too. Where once it had followed the contours of her body, it now hung down from her cleavage over her stomach, giving it more of a floaty appearance; at least it still looked ok.

  The last track started to play while she laced up a pair of red converse. She had no plans to go out, however, shoes were practically a requirement for moving through the house unscathed. The headless nail in the hall floor was not the only ‘booby trap’ one had to negotiate.

  Matt should have been there by now she thought as she closed her bedroom door and went to deposit the wet towel back into the bathroom. Maybe he had been held up getting the Chinese food. Shrugging her shoulders she went back into the living room and picked up the black electric guitar from its stand in the alcove. Putting the strap on her shoulder she turned the amp on and grabbed a pick. A quick strum told her it still held its tune and she soon picked up the rhythm of the albums final track. Singing along in key with the vocalist, she strummed a low melody as the song worked through its centre passage. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been able to just pick up the guitar and play along with the gods. The summer holidays could not come soon enough. As the elongated final word of the song rang out around the room she dropped the vocal early. She had no hope of holding that note without properly warming up her vocal chords. Instead, she concentrated her
efforts on the closing guitar riffs.

  Anna’s soul felt truly alive, her fingers made the notes sing sweetly, just like the vocalist's golden tone. Nothing on the planet brought about the same feelings of euphoria as her music did. For years the guitar had been her one outlet of freedom. The one thing no one had ever been able to take away from her. Even though the instrument she currently held had not originally belonged to her it now held a familiarity not too dissimilar to that of her own acoustic.

  The album came to an end and Anna slowly brought her accompaniment to a close. The original recording faded out too soon in her opinion. However, it was not her place to question the work of artists. Placing the guitar back on its stand she turned off the amp. Matt should have been there by now and she had no way to contact him. Slowly she sank down into the armchair and waited.

  Ten minutes passed. Matt would never be this late without at least sending her a text. Had her anger on Wednesday inadvertently convinced him that they were over? Or had her missing two days of school been enough to allow Dylan to erode his will and convince him to go to Raymond’s stupid party? One way or another she needed to know.

  Rising from the chair Anna picked up a blue coloured hoodie from the edge of the sofa and slipped it on. From the coffee table, she scooped up her purse. Nowhere to hand sold airtime. However, there was an old payphone just around the corner from the end of her street. Quietly she made her way from the living room and out of the apartment.

  The sun had now disappeared behind the tall buildings as Anna made her way down the cracked steps of her apartment building. The typical light breeze greeted her the second she touched down on the sidewalk. She had no time for nature’s oddities tonight. Purposefully she walked down the street and turned the corner. It would be a miracle if the old thing worked Anna thought on opening the shattered glass door of the graffiti-covered booth. Lifting the receiver she deposited some coins and dialled Matt’s phone number. It rang out. “Shit.”

  Hurriedly she punched the number in again, to the same result. She could keep trying and eat through all her change or try and get an answer from his house. She went for the latter. This time someone answered. “Taylor residence.” She recognised the voice at once; it was Matt’s elder sister.

  “Hi, Janine, it's Anna. Is Matt home?”

  “Sorry, Anna,” Janine replied kindly. “He came back here with Dylan after school to pick up some clothes. I think they went over to Dylan’s place.”

  “Oh.” Anna felt the earpiece slide down her face. “Thanks anyway.”

  “No probs. Hey, how are…” Anna despondently placed the heavy receiver back on its hook. If Matt had been with Dylan she didn’t need to guess where he had gone. He had ditched her again.

  Maybe it was her own fault she thought, forcing herself to hold back any tears that might have been forming. Or maybe Dylan had been too persuasive for him to ignore. She would get no resolution here she decided as she left the derelict phone booth behind. From what little attention she had paid to her peers at school over the past week she had gleaned the fact that Raymond lived a few streets away from where both Matt’s ‘Nana’ and her own Grandmother used to reside. The walk might take her a while but it did not matter. It was time to gate-crash.

  Back to business

  A haze of smoke drifted sluggishly across the derelict office. The heavy odour carried an indication that Gutierrez currently partook in a rare indulgence. Slouched back in the battered red leather chair Sergio clutched a Parejo cigar between two thick fingers. Absent-mindedly he drew it up to his lips and took a shallow draw. Rolling the inhaled smoke around his tongue, Gutierrez thought he could detect a hint of coffee amidst the earthy cedar taste. Smoking may have been Ramone’s forte, however, he himself was partial to the occasional cigar; typically reserved for when business boomed… in the good sense. It had been a depressing reality when he had unearthed the small wooden box from the top desk drawer and discovered he had only smoked one prior.

  His reasoning tonight had only made things look grimmer. Affairs this week had been almost catastrophic and for once his assorted spirits had failed to steady his nerves by themselves. Lazily he took another draw. Though not the worst week Los sin techo had suffered, it definitely ranked amongst the top ten. Two enforcers were dead and a third out of commission for at least the next four weeks. One of his best clients had been insulted beyond appeasement, to the point that his phone lackey had threatened further trouble should he attempt to contact them again. A quarter of the merchandise said client should have bought had been lost and the rest without a potential customer. Then there was the matter of the bitch that got away. Any information she could turn over to the cops could leave them in hot water. Not to mention Ramone; whose name she may have pieced together. In fact, scratch the top ten remark, this week made the top five.

  Downing a shot of neat bourbon from the glass on the desk Sergio slowly began the arduous task of sorting out his organisation's latest mess. The absence of three pairs of hands he could do little about, however, with the loss of Pirelli as a customer there would be less work in the coming weeks and so would give them a chance to recruit some new ones; Tanya could see to that. Replacing the business brought in by the aforementioned Italian would be more difficult though not impossible, given time. The excess stock was far easier to deal with. He’d have them recycled and put out in favour of fresher catches. Imposing a tighter limit on the amount of merchandise brought in for a month should stop them becoming inundated with goods they couldn’t shift. The more worrying problem was Ramone…

  Gutierrez slammed a heavy fist down on the desk. How could his amigo have been so careless as to let a bitch escape; potentially with a name to match a description? Allowing the large ash tip to fall from the cigar to the floor Sergio began to mildly chew on the end. It did not matter. For once no amount of cursing, banging or bullets would solve the problem. Ramone would do the job Tanya had procured and in the process lay low. If nothing happened… nothing happened. However, if something were to occur he would have to be careful about how he handled the situation. If Ramone were to think he was stuck on his own, he could very well drop everyone else in the shit in exchange for a better deal. He’d like to think his one-time mejor amigo would not betray him like that, though he took nothing for granted anymore. Besides, Ramone it seemed had become increasingly soft since the pier five incident. His objection to Los sin techo’s latest line of merchandise, a testament to that fact.

  Then there was the matter of the job Tanya had come up with, it all seemed too easy. A big payoff for such a small, insignificant task always had a nasty surprise hidden somewhere. You just had to hope you discovered it before it had the chance to bite you in the ass. With that in mind, he had been reluctant to take the job. He had learned the hard way that one should only do business with those one knew. Unknown people brought unknown risk. In the end, Tanya had convinced him it would be worth a punt. If they were successful losing Pirelli would become inconsequential.

  As if on cue, the phone rang. Groaning Gutierrez gulped down another shot before lifting the handset out of the cradle. “What is it now?” he said wearily, reclining back in his chair.

  “Wow, Serg that almost sounded pleasant. Much more civilised than your usual roar.” Sergio resisted the urge to grit his teeth at the woman’s chirpy, mocking tone. “Is Tina sitting in your lap?”

  Who the fuck’s Tina he thought, subconsciously glancing around the room before grunting, “no.”

  “Oops… my bad.” He could picture the feigned look of embarrassment on Tanya’s face as the words slithered through the earpiece and into his ear. “That’s for later sweetcakes.” Gutierrez brought his free hand up to rest his cheek against. Why did he get the feeling that this ‘Tina’ would be her way of softening a forthcoming bad news blow? “My week can’t get any fucking worse, out with it.”

  “And just like that, you’re back to your usual self.” There was an audible sigh on the other end as Tanya pa
used. Ignoring it Sergio busied himself with the bourbon bottle. “Anyway the two bums you sent to do the job tonight went and pigged out somewhere and so let the kid slip through their thick, greasy paws.”

  “WHAT!” he roared, slamming the bottle onto the desk; a small crack forming in the glass. “DON’T TELL ME SOMEONE ELSE BEAT US TO THE CATCH!”

  “Easy, Serg.” The woman’s words washed over him like a soothing balm. Like she was attempting to placate a wild tiger. “They’ve not beaten us to the catch… yet.”

  Sergio’s face twisted around the cigar butt as he tried to take a draw and talk at the same time. “What do you mean, yet?”

  This time Tanya’s sigh was louder and meant for him to hear. It carried with it the woman’s disdain and apparent irritation at Ramone and El Roca’s actions that evening. Somehow it seemed stronger than usual. “Because those lazy douche bags took a detour to dinner, the kid’s left home. And now some guys in suits have shown up in a black SUV and camped out inside.”

  Gutierrez swallowed a mouthful of smoke and bourbon as he digested this new information. Maybe it was the addition of the tobacco to his system but for some reason, he did not seem to consider this turn of events to be the same deal-breaker Tanya did. “So fuck. Tell Ramone to get his ass over there, park at the bottom of the street, wait till the fucking kid comes back and nab them outside before they go indoors.”

  A crooked smile began to play on Sergio’s lips and he enjoyed the silence that followed. Though he could not see her, he had a strong suspicion that Tanya was currently biting her lip, like a naughty child that had forgotten to run an earned. She had a habit of overplaying situations. In fact, this sort of overreaction validated his position as boss. True, someone else after their prize would prove to be an inconvenience. However, this venture was simply a silver dollar on a rank outsider, nothing more. If it didn’t come in it would simply be an annoyance that they had not won the jackpot. “So where’s this Tina?” he asked firmly, closing the previous matter.