Just a Little Junk

by Stylo Fantome

  Just a Little Junk

  STYLO FANTÔME

  Table of Contents

  DEDICATION 5

  10:00 a.m. 7

  10:15 a.m. 12

  11:03 a.m. 18

  12:28 p.m. 28

  2:00 p.m. 40

  2:58 p.m. 42

  3:32 p.m. 46

  4:40 p.m. 59

  5:01 p.m. 61

  6:08 p.m. 65

  5:22 a.m. 76

  7:58 a.m. 79

  10:10 a.m. 82

  12:06 p.m. 91

  12:35 p.m. 99

  12:51 p.m. 107

  2:15 p.m. 109

  3:04 p.m. 119

  Thousands of Hours Later 122

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS 128

  SOUNDTRACK 130

  MORE FROM THE AUTHOR 131

  The Kane Trilogy Excerpt 132

  Published by BattleAxe Productions

  Copyright © 2017

  Stylo Fantôme

  Critique Partner:

  Ratula Roy

  Editing Aides:

  Barbara Shane Hoover

  Ratula Roy

  Cover Design:

  Najla Qamber Designs

  http://najlaqamberdesigns.com

  Copyright © 2017

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  It is the copyrighted property of the author,

  and may not be reproduced, copied, re-sold, or re-distributed.

  If you’re reading this ebook and did not purchase it,

  or it was not purchased for your use only,

  then this copy must be destroyed.

  Please purchase a copy for yourself from a licensed seller.

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  DEDICATION

  To anyone who watches way too many movies.

  JUNK IN THE TRUNK

  10:00 a.m.

  Day One

  What. The. Fuck.

  She slammed her car trunk shut. Took a couple quick breaths, then popped it back open.

  What the fuck!

  Slammed it shut once more. Then slowly, very slowly, opened it again.

  Yup. She wasn’t seeing things.

  There was definitely a dead body in her trunk.

  What in the actual fuck!

  *

  … nine hours earlier …

  *

  “I love this song!”

  Jodi Morgan was drunk. And not just a little drunk, but A LOT drunk. Well into wasted territory. She tottered back and forth on her heels, somewhat swaying to the bass music that was filling the club. Her drink sloshed around in its glass, most of it splattering on the floor.

  “Whooaaa, honey, careful now,” her new friend chuckled as he steered her back towards a table.

  “You be careful now,” she snorted, then cracked up laughing at her own joke.

  Friday night. She’d been avoiding work for most of the week, but come Sunday, she’d have to go back. So she and some coworkers had gone downtown to a bar, a last hurrah before Jo had to return to real life.

  One bar had led to another bar, though, which then led to an Applebee’s, which in turn led to a dance club. At least, she was pretty sure it was a dance club. She was on her eighth vodka sour – she could’ve been on the moon and she wouldn’t have realized it.

  “Can I get you another?” the guy asked, pointing at her mostly empty drink. She shrugged and handed him the glass.

  “Why not?”

  While her errand boy scampered off to fetch her more alcohol, she let her eyes wander around the room. Where had her friends gone? She was pretty sure she’d come with friends, but she didn’t see any of the other girls anywhere. She sat up straight and squinted her eyes, trying to focus as she looked over the people on the dance floor. There was a brunette who might have been Kim, and a blonde who looked sort of like Michelle, and then rawr, some gorgeous tall drink of water who was just begging for her to come and slurp him up. She smiled to herself and managed to stand up, but then the drink of water turned to face her.

  What are the chances!?

  “Hey! Going somewhere?”

  The guy who’d been following her around for most of the night was back at her side, a fresh drink in his hand. She glared at the dance floor for a second longer before taking the glass from him. She chugged down its entire contents, then slammed the cup onto the table next to her before grabbing his wrist.

  “Yeah. Let’s dance.”

  She pulled what’s-his-face out onto the floor, shoving and elbowing bodies out of the way. When she was in perfect viewing distance of her real prey, she came to an abrupt stop. New guy slammed into her back and she immediately started dancing, swaying her hips in a circle and grinding her butt against his crotch.

  “Whoa, you got some moves,” the man chuckled, and she felt his hands come to rest on her hips. She slowly turned around to face him.

  “You have no idea.”

  For the rest of the song, she did her best imitation of a music video ho. Jo usually wasn’t too big on the clubbing scene – she had rhythm, she could dance, she just didn’t do it very often. That night, though, it was like she was auditioning to become a stripper, and new guy was her stripper pole.

  “How you feeling?” he asked when the song finally wound down and the DJ began yelling something out over a megaphone.

  “Hot,” she replied, peeking over his shoulder, trying to see if her dance moves had any effect on their neighbor. But the other guy was gone, she couldn’t see him anywhere.

  “You sure are,” her dance partner chuckled. “Let me get you another drink.”

  As he walked away, she waved her hands in front of her face, trying to create a breeze. The act of moving her arms and standing upright proved to be a little bit too much to handle, though, and she stumbled to the side. Jo could feel herself falling over, but before she could go down, an arm wrapped around her waist and propped her upright.

  “Whoa there, someone’s having a good time.”

  She just barely managed to conceal her excitement behind a look of feigned nonchalance. She didn’t even bother looking at her knight in shining armor, she just went about smoothing out her dress. Or trying to – her fingers and brain weren’t communicating very well with each other.

  “I was. I am,” she corrected herself quickly. “What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for you.”

  “Didn’t have anything better to do tonight? So sad.”

  “What’s your problem?”

  “You are, you stupid … water drink.”

  He burst out laughing.

  “I’m sorry – what did you just call me?”

  Jo opened her mouth to cuttingly explain herself, then realized even she didn’t have a clue what she’d meant by that insult.

  “I don’t really know,” she finally replied, then she squealed as her ankle abruptly rolled, throwing her to the side. The arm around her waist squeezed tight, holding her in place.

  “Oh, Jojo, can’t leave you alone for a minute,” his deep voice laughed. She finally lifted her eyes to look her savior in the face.

  “I hate it when you call me that, Archie,” she drew out the nickname she knew he couldn’t stand.

  “Ah, see? Mine was preemptive – I knew you were gonna call me that.”

  Archer Calhoun. It was one thing to see him dancing from a distance, looking all sexy and smirky and … tall water drink-y. It was quite another to have him pressed up against her with his arm around her waist. It felt like her entire body was melting. He was so tall, she had to tilt her head back, back, sooooo far back, she just let it fall till she was staring at the ceiling.

  “I called you like eighty times,” she blurted out in a loud voice.
He laughed again, and the melting sensation moved to her organs.

  “Yeah, I saw all the missed calls. I was at work, my phone was off. Thanks for all the voicemails.”

  “I was trying to invite you to come out with us. Your job is so lame.”

  “Hey, it pays the bills. And I’m here now, aren’t I?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, hey, how’d you find us?” Jo asked, suddenly catching onto the fact he’d magically ended up in the same club as them.

  “Called what’s her name, your coworker. The redhead with the big ass. She said she’d left you all down here, and that you were two drinks away from being on your face,” he chuckled.

  “Yeah,” she laughed as well. “And that was probably like three drinks ago.”

  “I can tell. C’mon, let’s go sit down,” Archer said as he held her tight and started walking.

  “You can’t tell me what to do,” she informed him, but she clung to his side as he headed off the dance floor.

  He sat her down first before taking a chair across the table from her. He continued smiling at her – no wait, smirking, she was positive it was a smirk – as he sipped at a drink in an old fashioned glass.

  “I’m not that drunk,” Jo suddenly decided to defend herself. Archer snorted.

  “Really? Then what other reason could you have for working some random dude like a stripper pole?”

  Yessssss, he was totally watching!

  “Uh, cause maybe I want to strip for him? Why were you watching, anyway? Jealous?” she asked, grabbing a full drink that was sitting on the table and picking it up. He quickly snatched it out of her hand.

  “Always jealous, Jojo. Hot dress, by the way,” he said, then she watched as his eyes slowly dipped down to her body and traveled over her figure.

  “Thanks, I borrowed it from your mom,” she replied, smiling big at him. He barked out a laugh.

  “Nice. But c’mon, this isn’t you. Slutty dancing, picking up random guys? What’s up?” he pressed. She bristled at his choice of words.

  “Okay, my dancing was sexy, NOT slutty, and I am not drunk,” she insisted. “Just because you drink like a pussy doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t handle our alcohol.”

  It was a challenge, and it didn’t go unnoticed. He’d been holding a drink the whole time he’d been talking to her, and now finished it in one shot. She rolled her eyes, which only made him pick up the drink he’d taken away from her only moments before and he chugged the whole thing down.

  “One time,” he started talking as soon as he’d finished. “One time I puke in your car, and you will never let me forget it.”

  “Because only a bitch pukes after drinking three beers,” she reminded him.

  “I had food poisoning!” he laughed at her.

  “Whatever. You handle your alcohol like a bitch.”

  “Takes one to know one, Jojo. So, tell me about your new friend. Seems like a real awesome dude. Gonna take him home?”

  It was in their nature to rib each other, an integral part of their friendship. Archer did it because he thought it was all in good fun, but Jo did it because he drove her insane. He thought they were just friends, but he was so much more than that to her. Something different. Something she couldn’t quite define. He was her best friend. Her neighbor. Her older-brother’s-high-school-best-friend-slash-partner-in-crime-slash-the-dude-she-wanted-to-bang-so-hard-it-made-her-grind-her-teeth-at-night.

  But the alcohol was clouding her brain, not to mention her judgement, and suddenly it wasn’t good natured teasing. She wanted him to really see her. Wanted him to acknowledge the fact that not only was she the best friend he’d ever had, but probably the sexiest one, too. Wanted him to lose some of those oh-so-cool vibes he always had coming off him in waves.

  Jo slowly stood up and pressed one hand flat on the table top, keeping her balance as she leaned forward and grabbed a beer that was sitting next to him. While still leaning over, she lifted the bottle to her lips and stretched her neck, slowly taking in the fizzy liquid. She was very aware of her position and the fantastic view he now had of her rack, and what her stance was doing for said rack. When she finally sat the bottle down, he was still staring at her tits.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” she said in a loud voice. When his eyes met hers, she gave him a tight smile. “I have to go find my stripper pole.”

  “I’m sorry … what?” Archer was caught off guard. She waved her hand at him and began stumbling away from the table.

  “Sorry, water glass, things to do, people to sleep with, all that jazz,” she informed him. He gaped at her for another second, then when she almost face planted into a railing, he jumped up and hurried after her.

  “Jo, you’re not sleeping with that dude,” he told her as he stood her upright once again.

  “Pfffft, yes I so am,” she laughed.

  “You can’t, Jo. He’s … you’re way too drunk to do this,” he insisted.

  “You’re too drunk.”

  “No I’m -” and because the gods seemed to be smiling on her that night, he interrupted himself with a hiccup. They stared at each other for a second, then both burst out laughing.

  “You’re drunk,” she repeated herself. He nodded.

  “Maybe a little, but I stopped drinking once I saw you two on the dance floor and … and noticed how drunk you were. C’mon, let me take you home before you do something you’ll regret. I’ll tuck you in bed and put on your favorite movie. Hell, I’ll even watch it with you.”

  Tempting. Archer hated watching her favorite movie. But at the same time, she didn’t want to go home and curl up in front of the TV. She wanted to go home and have hot, nasty, crazy, heart attack inducing sex with him. But he treated her like she was his little sister or something.

  Not sexy at all. I should just go home and have hot nasty sex with myself, and then watch my movie. Fuck these boys.

  “There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!”

  Jo blinked her eyes at the man who’d walked up next to them. She didn’t recognize him at first, but then she saw the vodka sour in his hand and she remembered. Her stripper pole slash errand boy. She smiled big and took the drink from him.

  “Sorry, you worked me up into a sweat out there! I had to take a breather,” she laughed, stepping away from Archer so she was standing between the men, both of whom were now staring at each other in a super uncomfortable manner.

  “Hi, I’m Bernard,” her new friend introduced himself, holding out his hand. Archer smiled, and she couldn’t be sure, but it looked a little strained. He didn’t shake hands.

  “I’m Jojo’s friend,” was all he said in response, and now she was positive he was strained.

  Straining? Straineded? Stained? Shit, maybe I am too drunk …

  “Jojo,” the man, Bernard, laughed. “Cute name.”

  “Oh, he’s the only one who calls me that,” Jo was quick to interject. “He’s like … like … like my kid brother, always coming up with cute pet names.”

  “Kid brother!?” Archer exclaimed. She smiled broadly. He was two years older than her.

  “Ah, gotcha, so you two are like brother and sister,” Bernard said.

  “Basically.”

  “Not even remotely,” Archer said at the same time as Jo spoke.

  “Sounds fun. Wanna go dance again, Jo?” Bernard asked. She sneaked a peek at Archer’s face, and was a little surprised to find that he looked beyond strained. He looked angry, and he was staring at her dance partner like he wanted to punch him in the face.

  Hmmm, this is new! Let’s play with this.

  “I dunno, I’m still so worn out,” she sighed, pressing up against Bernard’s side. She was impressed with herself – the whole room seemed to be tilting on its axis, yet she still managed to remain upright. She shook her head, then instantly regretted it. She knew she’d had a lot to drink, knew she was drunk, but she felt strange. More dizzy than just drunk spinny.

  “Wanna go sit down, baby?” he asked, and she fel
t her gag reflex kick into gear. She hated men who did baby talk. And men who gave pet names before they even knew a chick. Hated sleazy men who hit on her in bars and were oblivious to the fact she was just using them to make another man jealous.

  But then she saw the way Archer was looking at her new friend Bernard. So intense, so serious. She was always trying to get Archer to notice her as a sexual entity. Maybe it was time to take it to the next level and really put on a show for him.

  “I’d love that,” she breathed. As Bernard slid his arm around her waist, she winked at Archer. She watched as the muscles in his neck went tight with anger.

  “Hey,” he said as she walked off. “Be careful.”

  “Oh, I’ll take good care of your friend,” Bernard replied before she could open her mouth.

  “I wasn’t fucking talking to you, and if anything happens to her, I’ll break both your legs,” Archer stated in a loud voice. Jo was stunned and she gaped at him as he turned his gaze to her. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you, Jojo. Don’t do anything stupid.”

  “You guys must be close for him to be so jealous,” Bernard was chuckling as he led her away.

  But Jo wasn’t really listening to him. She was glancing behind her and frowning as she watched Archer disappear into the crowd. So much for “keeping an eye” on her. She sighed and looked away, sitting down at a table Bernard had set aside for them. There was a fresh vodka sour sitting there, so she gulped it down. She was dizzy and dehydrated, and her brain felt like it was wrapped in a wet towel.

  “Jesus, those drinks were strong,” she grumbled, bringing a hand to her head as he sat down across from her. The room wasn’t just tilting anymore, but spinning and possibly melting. She also couldn’t feel her face. Or her feet. It felt like her tongue was swelling in her mouth.

  What is going on?

  “Relax, sweetie. I’m going to show you a better time than Archer ever could,” Bernard assured her, and then he was kissing her, his own tongue battling hers for space in her mouth.

  Seriously, Jo? He’s not even that cute. What a fuckshow. I hope I puke on him before I pass out.

  She never got the chance, though. While his tongue was still searching for her tonsils, she started falling back in her chair. She was completely blacked out before she even hit the backrest.