by Hamel, B. B.
We walked up the drive of his house. It was a quiet, normal-looking rancher with blue shutters and wide windows. The curtains were pulled shut, and there weren’t any obvious lights on. It was daytime, though, so it was hard to tell if anyone else was home.
I stopped at the door and glanced at Laney, “You can leave if you’re not up for this.”
“Just knock,” she said.
I stared at her for another second. She looked resolutely ahead, face serious and impassive, and I was impressed. Most normal people would be freaking out about banging on some guy’s door and shoving threatening pictures in his face, but Laney didn’t seem upset.
If anything, she seemed focused and intent. Maybe Susan was right after all. Maybe Laney wasn’t just some spoiled college girl.
I knocked and then rang the bell. After a few seconds, the inner door pulled open, and there he was.
“Yes?” he said. “Can I help you?”
“Sir,” I said quickly, “my name is Adam Greenspan and I’m from the Federal Bureau of Rental Properties and Temporary Housing. This is my assistant, Mrs. Arnsdot. May we have a moment of your time?”
He instantly looked suspicious, but he didn’t slam the door. “Never heard of you,” he said.
“Sir, we’re a small bureau. But I understand that you rent out multiple properties in the area. Am I correct?”
He nodded. “Yes. That’s right.”
“I’m following up on some complaints we’ve received lately. I was hoping we could resolve these issues here and now and avoid any, uh, lengthy discussions.”
He stared at us. “Do you have any identification?”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out my old FBI badge. I had doctored it a bit with some stick-on paper to make it look less like a bureau badge. I flashed it to him and put it away.
He frowned at us and looked at Laney. She looked back at him and smiled slightly.
“Okay,” he said. “Come on in.”
He opened the outer door and we walked inside. Laney followed close behind.
Inside, the place smelled like smoke. The walls were yellowed and the ceilings were low. There wasn’t much light and the carpets looked old as hell. We followed him into a living room. There was a single couch dominating the space in front of an entertainment system with a large flat screen TV. Football highlights were playing on mute.
He cleared off a spot for us on two chairs and sat down on the couch, pulling out a cigarette. “Mind if I smoke?” he asked.
“It’s your house.” I pulled out my folder. “Okay, Mister Gibson.” We shook hands.
“What’s this all about?” he asked, lighting his cigarette.
“Like I said, we had some complaints.” I pulled out the photographs we had done earlier that day.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Well, this looks like a mountain of garbage on your roof.”
I held up the image, smiling serenely.
His eyes bugged out of his skull, and he nearly dropped his cigarette.
“That’s not mine,” he said quickly.
“We both know it is,” I said a little quieter. I pulled out another image of the rat and held it up. He was practically quaking. I pulled out a few more images, of the broken laundry machines and such. Finally, I held the images out for him to take, and he actually took them.
“Well, Mister Gibson, as you can see, these complaints are serious. This is your property, is it not?”
He nodded, dumbstruck.
I leaned forward. “Listen, Chuck. I can call you Chuck, right?”
He nodded again.
“Chuck, between me and you, this stuff is routine. I mean, these people could fix this stuff themselves if they wanted to, right?”
He nodded a third time and took a drag of his cigarette.
“But you know, it’s my job to follow up on this sort of thing. The boss would have my ass otherwise.” I paused and made a show of smiling kindly. “So here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to fix all this, uh, unfortunate side effect of running a high-residence building. You’re going to fix it tomorrow.” I paused and raised an eyebrow. “Then I’m going to follow up. Everything will look fine, lovely, no problems. I’ll write a positive report, and this all goes away.”
He looked at Laney. “What was your name again?” he asked.
“Don’t look at her,” I said forcefully. His gaze snapped back to mine, surprised. I softened my voice. “She’s just here to observe. This is between us, Chuck.”
“You want me to fix this stuff,” he said dumbly.
“Yes. Tomorrow.”
“I can’t. That’s impossible.”
“Chuck.” I leaned back in my chair, shaking my head. “You’re a man of means. You can handle it.”
“I’m telling you, this stuff will take weeks to sort out.”
“Chuck, do you like owning a building?”
“Of course. What does—”
“Then do what I’m telling you to do.”
He stared at me, shocked.
For my part, I was having so much fun. I loved playing a role, loved lying to this guy, loved pushing him around. He was a scumbag and an asshole, and I loved playing on his emotions. I wanted to punish him, and the punishment was so much sweeter when it was slow.
“I can’t,” he said simply.
“Listen to me, you fat, stupid, disgusting oaf,” I said. “You will fix this fucking horrendous garbage, and you will fix it tomorrow. If you don’t, I will take away your building.” I stood up.
“You can’t talk to me that way!” There were equal amounts of rage and confusion playing on his face.
“Yes, I can, because you are at my mercy. Mrs. Arnsdot?” Laney stood up.
“I’ll tell your supervisor!”
“Please, do that. Then they’ll come and do their inspection. Which is exactly what you don’t want.” When he didn’t respond, I turned to Laney. “Mrs. Arnsdot, please make a note to compliment Chuck here on how polite and helpful he has been in your report.”
“Yes, Mr. Greenspan,” Laney said.
I wanted to kiss her. It was so perfect.
“You can’t do this,” the asshole said.
“Tomorrow,” I replied, and then I nodded to Laney. She walked out and I followed.
Then we were out the front door, down the front walk, and moving fast back toward the car.
I felt elated, excited, energetic. I laughed out loud as we climbed back into the car, cackling.
“Did you see his face?” I asked. “What a fucking idiot!”
Laney shook her head, grinning ear to ear. “That was insane. Why did we pretend to be government people?”
“Always works better than just straight-up threats. He’ll figure out that there’s no bureau of rentals or whatever, and he’ll be even more freaked.”
“What if he doesn’t do anything?”
“Then I’ll go back alone and say a few more convincing things.” I started the engine. “But we don’t have to worry bout that.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s going to do it. I’ve done this a few times now, and I can tell.”
“You’re crazy.”
I grinned at her. “Yeah, probably. But you were great, Mrs. Arnsdot.”
“What’s with that name?”
“Who knows. But he was looking at you like he wanted to rip your clothes off.”
She blushed. “No, he wasn’t.”
“Sure he was. He’s a fucking creep.” I leaned closer to her, smirking. “But you do look fucking sexy as hell, especially when you’re lying straight-faced to a prick.”
She blushed even more. “Okay, that’s enough. Let’s get out of here.”
“You got it, Mrs. Arnsdot.” I pulled out and drove back toward the office.
I felt great. I always felt this good after something like that, but it was different. Somehow, having Laney around made me more confident, like I wanted to impress her or some shit.
But that wasn’t me. I wasn’t the type to show off for a woman. I had never needed to before, and I sure as shit didn’t need to now.
Still, that knowing smile she gave me, the way she blushed when I talked dirty, it all drove me wild. My heart was pounding, and I wanted nothing more than to pull over and fuck Laney until she screamed my name right in the back of my car.
Instead, I took her to Starbucks and bought us both coffee. I’d fuck her brains out later.
Chapter Five: Laney
“Senior Easton, thank you so much!”
I watched as Easton practically squirmed in Mrs. Suarez’s embrace.
“Just did my job,” he mumbled.
She hugged him tighter. “You saved us. You saved all of us.”
I grinned at him and he mouthed get her off me. I just shook my head and crossed my arms, loving his discomfort.
But he did deserve the praise. After our little visit to the Biggest Asshole Landlord Ever, we staked out the apartment building for a few more days. Sure enough, we watched as groups of workers came and went, making repairs and cleaning the place up.
A few days later, we snuck back inside and went up to the roof. The trash pile was miraculously gone.
I never did completely understand the logic behind what Easton had done. I got the threat, but I wasn’t sure why we couldn’t just come out and make it ourselves instead of playing pretend. He said that we would never have gotten into the guy’s front door, let alone made him listen, if we were just being ourselves.
So whatever magic Easton had, it seemed to work. I was pretty skeptical of the whole thing, although it was pretty exciting. He had been cool and calm and serious, and even a little protective. I didn’t need him to hover over me, but I did feel a little start in my stomach whenever he looked at me.
“Please, if there is anything you ever need, you come to me,” Mrs. Suarez said, letting him go.
“You already paid. That’s enough.”
Mrs. Suarez went to hug him again, but he deftly stepped out of the way. She said something in Spanish and he replied in Spanish. They had a quick conversation, only half of which made any sense to me, and then finally Mrs. Suarez left the office.
I laughed at him, shaking my head. “What was that last part about?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he grunted, sitting down behind his desk.
“Come on, tell me.”
“She was offering me a daughter.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“To marry, I guess.” He smirked at me. “I’m thinking about taking her up on it.”
“Go ahead. Are they cute?”
He shrugged. “Depends. Are donkeys cute?”
I laughed and leaned up against the filing cabinet. “Not in the way I’m thinking, they aren’t.”
“Well there you go.”
“You did a good thing, you know.”
He paused. “I got paid. I did a job. That’s it.”
“Still. Those people really needed it.”
“Doesn’t matter to me. If they can pay, I’ll help.”
I sighed. “Are you really so callous?”
“Not much moves this heart, sis. The only thing that excites me anymore is that very shapely ass of yours.”
“You’re so flattering,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“How about we celebrate this good thing I did,” he said, motioning for me to come over. “Maybe right here on the top of my desk.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to talk to an employee that way.”
“No, definitely not. But I love the way you blush when I do. And I bet you’re soaking wet thinking about me fucking you until you scream my name.”
“Definitely not supposed to say that,” I mumbled, trying not to blush. As much as I hated to admit it, he had a knack for getting under my skin.
Worse, he had a knack for getting me riled up and soaked. I glanced at his strong arms and bit my bottom lip, looking away quickly. He caught my glance, though, and stood up, coming nearer.
“I’m not supposed to tell my stepsister that I want to feel her lips wrapped around my hard cock either, but I’m doing that.” He stopped near me.
“Keep it up,” I said, “and I’ll tell on you.”
His grin got larger. “Yeah? Going to tell mommy and daddy that I tried to fuck your tight little pussy?”
I shook my head. “Never going to happen.”
“We both know you don’t keep coming back for the shit pay.”
“Why do I keep coming back then?”
He got close, so close to me. I backed up completely against the filing cabinet and felt his hot breath on my neck. The thrill of a job well done was ringing in my veins, my heart pumping fast, my pussy soaked through yet again. His eyes were burning into mine, and I was practically begging him to kiss me, to bend me over and lift up my inappropriately short skirt.
“I can’t figure it out. I think you want to ride me until you can’t think.”
“Figure this out,” I said softly. “You’re my boss and my stepbrother. It’s never going to happen.” As much as I’m starting to want it to, I thought to myself.
“Your loss.” His mouth was so close to mine. “I keep thinking about how you’d taste.”
The phone began to ring, and I practically jumped up into the ceiling.
He pulled back and laughed at me.
“Going to get that?” he asked.
“Oh, uh, yeah. Sure.” I quickly moved around him, though he didn’t give me any room. Our bodies touched for a moment, sending a thrill through my chest.
I grabbed the phone on the third ring.
“Hello?”
“Is this Easton Wright? Private, uh, detective?”
“This is his office. How can I help you?”
“I need some help.”
I grabbed a pen and asked exactly what we could do. Meanwhile, Easton disappeared back into his back room slash apartment, probably to take a nap.
The woman sounded young and angry. She said she thought her husband was cheating on her, probably with someone from work. We made an appointment for her to stop by and finalize the price, and then I hung up.
“Got a client,” I called out.
“Cheating husband?” he grunted from the other room.
“How’d you know?”
“It’s always a cheating husband.” I looked up and saw him standing in the doorway, his shirt off.
I gaped. His tattoos covered his muscular body, all ripped and perfect.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Going to take a shower.”
“Okay. Can you keep some clothes on while I’m here at least?”
“No.” He walked over to the door, carrying shower supplies and a towel. “Do me a favor. Clean up that filing cabinet while I’m gone.”
I frowned at him. “I thought you told me not to do that.”
“I had some things you weren’t supposed to see in there. It’s fine now.”
Some things I wasn’t supposed to see? That was a bit mysterious.
“What, are they like classified FBI files?”
“Something like that.”
“Okay. Have a good shower, boss.”
“I’ll be thinking of you.” He smirked as he opened the door and was gone.
What a frustrating asshole. Suddenly he wanted me to reorganize for him when earlier he had freaked out about it?
And of course he was walking around without a shirt even though it was completely wrong. Sure, I wasn’t exactly dressing conservatively to see him, but still. It was part of my job to be a distraction, at least for the other people around us. That’s what he said, anyway.
I got up from the desk and walked over to the cabinet, sliding it open. As I got to work, I couldn’t help but dwell on that last comment he had made. I imagined his hand wrapped around his thick cock, stroking himself slowly as the water covered his ripped body. He’d grunt my name as he came, thick spool
s of cum dropping onto the shower floor.
I shook my head, my heart racing. What was wrong with me? I was having dirty thoughts about my stepbrother.
Instead, I lost myself in the job of reorganizing his absolutely chaotic files.
I kicked my feet up on the desk and read the paper.
We’d been in his office for hours. Nobody had called; nobody had come in. He’d come back from the shower and had gone straight back into his living space, leaving me to finish filing on my own.
I got through the whole cabinet before lunch. After that, I was bored as hell. I could look at Facebook for only so long before I wanted to literally tear my eyes out. I mean, how many selfies was I supposed to like? I was super into baby pics and cute dogs—bonus points if the babies were with the cute dogs—but I couldn’t do that all day.
So I decided to enrich myself with the newspaper. I flipped through the flimsy pages, skimming the typical bad stuff.
But one headline caught my eyes. “Handless Hooker Found in Ditch,” it said, and it was the sort of salacious thing you rarely read about in a place like Mishawaka.
I skimmed the article. The body was found not too far away, closer to Chicago than to our town, but still out in the country. Apparently the body was only a few days old. The girl was young and pretty, and probably a prostitute, though they hadn’t identified her yet.
Then came the gruesome details. I almost couldn’t read about it. Apparently she had been sexually assaulted and beaten. But the weirdest thing was, her fingers had all been chopped off. She was missing some toes, but not all of them, and her tongue was cut out as well.
The police said they had no leads yet. It was all pretty messed up. How could someone do that to someone else? I knew evil existed in the world, but it was always at a remove. Always through the news. But for some reason, it was really hitting me hard, that somebody would do something so horrible to another human being.
“What’s up?”
I looked up, startled. “Nothing,” I said.
“Your face looks white.”
“It’s just this article.”
He reached out his hand. “Let me see.”
I gave him the paper and he began to read. “It’s pretty messed up. I was just thinking that it’s hard to imagine another person could do something like this. I don’t know, for some reason it was just hitting me hard, you know?” I paused, noticing the look on Easton’s face. “Are you okay?”