by Carl Weber
“A father shouldn’t have to watch his son die,” East declared. Then he nodded to Ques who turned up the volume of the TV, just as East shot Ricardo in the head. His body collapsed to the floor with a heavy thud.
Screw then shot Dos in the back of the head. The force slumped his whole body over in the chair.
East looked around at the bodies of father and son. He had finally got his revenge, but he didn’t feel the need to celebrate. Surprisingly, he felt nothing . . . no joy, no happiness, or sadness. He face remained expressionless. He nodded to Screw, then exited the room, leaving him and Ques to take care of the bodies. Ricardo’s run was over, and Dos’s was too, before it even got started.
East walked into his apartment and was met by Lauryn sitting in the living room staring at him with a worried look on her face. There was so much that needed to be said, but neither could find their voice. Just the fact that he was there and safe was enough for Lauryn. Their plan had worked. Nothing beat a double cross like a triple cross. They had played both Ricardo and Dos perfectly.
East found himself lost in her eyes. Since he was seventeen years old and tasked with being her bodyguard, she had been his weakness. Now he was hers. Lauryn wanted him off her mind and on her body. Something in her soul was drawn to his energy. She had watched East mature from a humble young boy to an honorable man, and a man he was indeed. He stood staring back at her like he saw heaven in her eyes.
Lauryn felt nervous, even though for the first time everything felt right in her heart. She stood to her feet. She wore black tights and a hoodie. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail with her soft curls hanging down the middle of her back. She was the epitome of beauty in his eyes. Even with no makeup on, she was still the prettiest woman he had ever seen. Her flawless bronze skin and doe eyes were all she ever needed to impress him. East admired her and took notice of all her attributes down to the mole underneath her right eye. He ran his hand over her hair and down her face. “What’s in the bag?” he asked, looking around her at the duffel on the coffee table.
“Everything he owed us,” she said softly.
Lauryn walked over and unzipped it. There were a dozen sparkling white bricks and at least two hundred thousand in cash inside. “Ricardo took from me. So, I took from him,” she began to cry.
East engulfed her in his arms. He held on to her with everything he had in him, like he was trying to absorb her pain into his body. He wished he could take away her suffering. “I’m sorry you went through all that, but it’s over now,” he apologized. Ricardo was Lauryn’s boogie monster. But she melted in East’s embrace. His strong arms around her, comforting her, made her feel safe. When she looked at East, she saw a king, one she didn’t mind standing beside or behind.
He ran his hand over the top of her head, smoothing out her ponytail in the most affectionate way. Lauryn’s body ached in pleasure when he touched her. Both of their foreheads were together as he spoke to her. She kept her eyes closed as she just took in his words and intoxicating smell. The hint of tequila on his breath was inviting, and she wanted to taste him. His aura commanded her attention and awakened her body. East licked his lips as he looked lustfully at her. He kissed her lips. She welcomed his kiss by grabbing his face. She pressed her face against his and slipped her tongue into his mouth. Her peach lip gloss mixed with her tears tasted like heaven on earth to him. In one swift motion, East lifted Lauryn off her feet and sat on the couch, allowing her to straddle him. Lauryn gasped, slowly opening her mouth. She felt as light as a feather on a natural high. She wrapped her arms around his neck and grazed her French manicured tips across his neck. Jolts of electricity ran up East’s spine. He inhaled her scent into his being, and she did the same. Every sexual experience Lauryn had before now was either done unwillingly or with an ulterior motive. For the very first time, it all felt right. East was good for her soul. He was different. He was willing to love and protect her the way Ricardo should have, and the way Dos couldn’t. Lauryn could feel his hard dick pressing against her pelvic area. She needed this; she wanted to be touched by him. East pulled her hoodie over her head and admired her perky C-cup breasts in her La Perla bra.
“You sure I’m who you want?” he uttered while nibbling on her shoulder. His hands were calloused but felt magnificent as he rubbed up and down, from her neck down to her arms.
“Yes,” she whispered in a sexy tone. She wanted to submit to him. That was all East wanted to hear. After all that she had been through, he didn’t want her to do anything against her will.
Lauryn stood up and removed her tights slowly. East’s dick jumped in anticipation when he took in a full view of her body. She was perfect. The seductive look on her face turned him on more. She sought his approval. He nodded his head, more in admiration than acceptance. She straddled him again, now with his dick fully exposed and at attention. She climbed on top and held her breath when his girth entered her. At first, she couldn’t sit all the way down on top of it. He filled her vaginal walls completely. East understood her apprehension and quickly turned her over on her back. He began giving her slow, steady strokes in and out of her pussy. Lauryn moaned with every entry, panting every time he exited her. East wanted her for so long, he was trying to convey his feelings for her with his strokes. Lauryn’s body could tell. His sex felt so good, better than she ever had before. Her clit would pulsate every time he moved past her hymen. Every stroke East delivered to her was precise and intense, his mouth slightly ajar, loving the tightness of her pussy. Lauryn tried to control her moans, but East would have none of it.
“Let it out, ma. Tell me how you feel,” he commanded in a whisper. Her juices poured over his dick effortlessly. East sped up his pace, taking her to another level of ecstasy. When he lifted her leg on his shoulder, Lauryn’s mouth fell open in an O of pleasure, and she called out to him. East was hitting spots she never knew existed. She thought her stomach shifted every time he entered her deeper. Lauryn clawed at his tattooed back and invited the pleasurable pain even more. East welcomed every part of her into him. He put every care or worry to the back of his head and solely focused on bringing her body to new heights. Lauryn’s body began to quiver as she crossed the threshold into an orgasmic state. East took pride in pleasing her. He felt his climax and started stroking her harder and deeper until he could no longer contain his eruption. As they lay next to each other, Lauryn gave a sigh of bliss, her heart pounding in her chest. East ran his fingers through her hair as his chest heaved up and down. Their bodies tingled all over. He smiled inwardly. He had got revenge and the girl.
The End
The Bag Is In
by
Marlon PS White
Chapter One
“One day I’ma get tired of this same routine. Day in and day out, it’s the exact same thing; never any excitement. One day I’ma find me another man, a rich man, one who wants to eat tacos, apple pie, and watch all the shows I watch.”
Marisa, divorced, was fifty-seven years young. Although gray-haired, she had convinced herself she was still in her prime. Now living alone, with the exception of her two cats, she’d watched hundreds of movies. That also included thousands of episodes of crime shows. A thirst for the wild side and a master’s degree in television crime shows led her to believe she was a hood detective. Marisa was always on a case. Keeping late hours posted watching reruns of Law and Order, the grandmother of five was always on time for work. Catching three different buses to work, her eyes felt weary.
Once arriving, Marisa punched the clock. Reaching inside her locker, she took out, opened, and downed an energy drink. Immediately after, she fell into her regular routine, getting straight to cleaning rooms she was assigned. With an abnormal amount of them still occupied on this Thursday morning, the middle-aged woman rearranged the usual order. She’d skipped the ones that were filled. Eagerly, she then cleaned the ones that weren’t or at least didn’t have a do-not-disturb sign on them. Deep in her own zone, she was quicker than normal finishing the roo
ms that had definitely checked out. Marisa was ahead of schedule in a short amount of time. Her arthritis wasn’t acting up, so she was good.
Checking her watch, she knew to pump her brakes. Slowly, she then pushed her cart while in deep-rooted thought about the last episode of her favorite show. Mentally distracted, she sloppily got done with room 212. Checking her list, she proceeded down the hallway. Stopping at room 217, Marisa glanced downward. Quickly observing no do-not disturb sign on the door, she did what she was trained to do.
“Housekeeping,” she announced as loudly as her old vocal cords would allow. Tapping on the door, she repeated it once more.
With no one responding, she reached on her side. Raising her arm, she swiped her master key card in the lock. A green light flashed. Marisa turned the handle to the left. Using her hip, she pushed the door open. With towels in arm, she crossed the threshold. Peeking around the door, Marisa announced housekeeping once again. She didn’t want to alarm any guests if they were asleep or just didn’t hear her.
The housekeeper eased farther into the double room, seeing if it needed cleaning for sure. Off the rip, she easily took notice the bed was unmade. A large black, oversized duffle bag sat in the center of the messy blanket and sheet. Marisa found it to be odd.
I wonder who would leave something this big right on the bed, and it looks dirty. She looked around the room. It was empty. Then in the bathroom, which still had shower moisture on the walls and the closet. Once again, she found nothing. No clothing, no suitcases. Some empty cans lay on the floor, and a few candy wrappers were thrown about. Then a few rubber bands and a small writing pad were on the desk. To Marisa, it appeared like whoever had rented the room had left in a rush.
Now caught up in her feelings, she felt a chill. It felt eerie, as if something was strange. Paranoid along with being gone off watching a late-night TV crime show, her mind started playing tricks on her. Playing detective, she got closer, seeing a huge red spot forming on the side of the bag and leaking onto the sheet.
Oh my God! Oh my God! It can’t be. She started backing up. I know my eyes must be playing tricks on me. Oh God! It’s big enough to put a body inside. Well, at least a cut up one. Oh my God, it looks lumpy. Marisa started to shake uncontrollably. She clutched at her now-racing heart with her frail old hand.
Terrified, the grandmother slowly eased her way toward the door. She kept a keen eye focused on the duffle bag, which she believed had moved some.
Maybe they are still alive? No, they’re dead. They have to be, zipped up like that. Praying whoever killed the poor person stuffed in the duffle bag wouldn’t catch her in the room and cut her up too, she felt dizzy. Holding on to the wall to balance herself, she took several deep breaths. Once in the hallway, she used her master key card to open an empty room. Wasting no time, Marisa ducked inside. Rushing over to the nightstand, she used the phone to dial for help.
“This is 911. What is your emergency?” the woman said flatly, not interested.
“Yes, yes! Oh my God, there’s a dead body in a bag.”
“I’m sorry, miss, you said what?”
“Yes.” Marisa’s lips quivered as she spoke. “The body is stuffed in a huge duffle bag on the bed. There’s blood everywhere. I think the dead person moved. Please send the police, please!” Marisa pleaded with the operator as her voice cracked.
The operator could tell that although the woman’s story seemed off, especially a dead body moving, she had a job to do. She was trained to ask pertinent questions and keep all callers calm. Quickly, she asked Marisa her location. In response, Marisa rambled off the name and place where she and the dead body could be found to the now-amused operator. She assured the panicked woman the police were en route and should be arriving shortly.
* * *
Juan and Karen were leaving Denny’s. They had just finished a hearty breakfast. With full stomachs, the pair headed back to their room. It had been a long night. They had put in some serious work while in town. Now it was time for them to get ghost, load up their belongings, and get on the road back to Arizona. They had a lot of multiple hours’ drive in front of them and wanted to get going. Unfortunately, neither of them had any idea the housekeeper had been in their room. There was no way the pair could know she’d discovered the duffle bag, let alone had reported it for the resting place of a mutilated body.
When they arrived back at the hotel, everything seemed to be normal. Karen circled the parking lot twice as she was taught to do. Then she found a spot to park. Juan and Karen always tried not to look suspicious as they walked quickly to the room. The notorious duo had been extracareful as always, but yet and still, were seconds away from getting knocked by the local authorities on the humble. Standing outside the door, Juan fumbled with the key. With the lock light finally signaling green, the two entered. When they got into the room, he went straight over to the bed. Satisfied he’d completed the task he and Karen were assigned, he smirked. He up-zipped and checked the duffle bag once more. Karen started to pick up any random trash left, putting it in a small bag so it could be thrown away down the road. They wanted to cover their tracks if the police, FBI, ATF, Homeland Security, or anyone else that would interrupt their ongoing illegal dealings ever surfaced and wanted to investigate.
Juan and Karen simultaneously noticed one side of the bag was damp. It had a still-growing red stain. The bright red moisture was on the bedding as well as on the duffle bag. Not caring about the ruined sheets on the bed, Juan lifted the huge bag up, slipping the straps over his shoulder. He made sure the red damp part was not touching his shirt. Just to make sure, he stood in front of the mirror adjusting it a few more times while he waited for his partner in crime to use the bathroom. He knew they could just stop at one of the local stores and purchase another duffle bag to transfer the valuable contents. There was no need to run the risk of getting pulled over and questioned about the ever-growing redness.
Making sure her hair looked good, Karen was taking her own sweet time. Although she knew they had to get on the road, the mere thought of hearing Juan’s mouth for all those hours made her temples throb in pain. After looking around the room one final time, she moved toward the door.
Juan had just about enough of her uppity ways. He repositioned the duffle bag as he yelled at her in Spanish. “You stupid white trash, this fucking duffle bag ain’t light. Hurry up and open the damn door before I really start to bugging! Then you really gonna have a problem!”
Karen had spent days, and even weeks, with him on the road, yet had no idea what he’d just said. However, by the tone of his voice, she figured it was nothing good. Catching an immediate attitude, she huffed and puffed and snatched the door open, granting Juan his wish.
Chapter Two
The police quickly arrived at the hotel’s front entrance. Driving in an unmarked vehicle, they parked in the check-in area. After going into the lobby, they were met by not only a hysterical Marisa, but the day manager as well. As she rattled on her detailed account of what she saw in room 217, the day manager shook his head in disbelief. He’d seen a lot of things take place since he started working there, but nothing as bizarre as what he was hearing described. The housekeeper swore she saw the seemingly deceased cut up body not just move, but also beg for help.
While the veteran female cop stood with the manager believing the woman to be no more than a loon, the other cop, a rookie, was young and gung ho. He was living for everything Marisa had claimed. He had the manager pull the check-in records and ran the plate Karen had left on file. After running her out-of-state driver’s license as well, he persuaded his partner to investigate further.
As the makeshift posse of four made their way down the hallway, the officers advised Marisa and the manager to stay a short distance back, just in case. The rookie was merely seconds away from knocking on room 217 when he heard a man yelling in Spanish from the other side of the door. He’d taken Spanish in high school and could make out some of what had been said. His heart raced, and
adrenalin kicked into total overdrive. He quickly signaled his partner to get ready. It was about to go down. Things from that point went from zero to a hundred, and pandemonium ensued. The female officer barely had time to call for backup just as the hotel room door swung wide open.
* * *
With Marisa and the manager taking cover in one of the empty rooms, they peeked out. Both of the cops stood just outside of room 217 with guns drawn. What could have been no more than a simple question-and-answer incident had escalated to a full-blown one. The housekeeper’s imagination was about to spark a possible murder involving two of the hotel’s guests.
The male officer barked out orders. It was easily apparent he meant business. “All right, freeze! Put your hands up, both of y’all! Drop that damn duffle bag and get down on the floor now!”
Karen was in utter shock. Having a gun shoved directly in her face was just about the last thing she was expecting to jump off this morning. Motionless, she stood as if she were doing the mannequin challenge. Her throat grew dry. She couldn’t swallow. She couldn’t think, let alone speak. As the cop’s voice grew louder with his demands, Karen felt warm piss run down her leg, although she had just come out of the bathroom. Now beet red, her otherwise pale skin tone had rapidly turned colors. The female officer rushed from behind her partner, also ordering Karen to the ground. Seeing that she was not voluntarily complying, the officer roughly snatched her by the collar. Karen was then cuffed on the floor in the hallway with a knee roughly pressed in her lower spine area. Finally able to speak, Karen called the police woman all kinds of stinking hoes and nasty bitches as Marisa and the manager looked on.