Blood for the Masses

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Blood for the Masses Page 7

by B. L. Morgan


  Around back in the parking lot I was fumbling for my car keys when I heard a squeal and a female voice yell, “Let go of me, you bastard!”

  I recognized the voice. It was Terry.

  Another voice that I knew was Bobbie yelled, “Leave her alone!”

  “Back off you dike bitch!” A man shouted back.

  CHAPTER 11

  Rocking and Rolling

  I followed the voices to the center aisle of the parking lot. Bobbie and Terry were there, with a lot more clothes on than they’d had on in the club. A tall black man in a black leather jacket had Terry by the hair with his left hand. He was drawing back his right fist to punch at Bobbie, who looked to me to be a bit out of his sight range.

  Where the hell were the security guards now?

  I walked up directly in front of him. He was struggling with Terry so much that at first he didn’t notice me.

  “Hey mother fucker!” I yelled at him. “Let her go!”

  He froze, then slowly turned his eyes on me with an intense glare intended to scare the hell out of me. I smiled at him. He must think he’s some kind of bad ass, I thought.

  “Get the fuck out of my face white boy!” He yelled. “Before I bust a cap in yo’ ass.”

  Bust a cap? That almost made me laugh, somebody’s been listening to too much gangster rap. I’d have bet he didn’t even have a gun. Otherwise he’d have already pulled it.

  I laughed and said, “Like this fuck-head,” and jerked my .38 out of its holster. I was getting tired of showing my gun and not doing anything with it, so I aimed a few inches to the left of his feet and squeezed the trigger blasting up a spray of concrete.

  Terry and Bobbie both screamed and the guy jumped about three feet in the air. He let go of Terry’s hair when he jumped and backpedaled about ten feet. I followed him.

  “What the fuck’s wrong with you?” He yelled at me and his voice had raised enough octaves so that it sounded higher than Terry’s or Bobbie’s.

  “I’m in the mood to kill something,” I told him. “And you’re available.”

  The sound of running footsteps came from behind me. Here comes the cavalry, I thought.

  Someone yelled. ”You two, hold it right there!” The security guards were on the way.

  Ron Martin was the first one to arrive, followed close behind by the parking lot gateman.

  Bobbie and Terry were hugging each other. Terry was sobbing and Bobbie was telling her she was going to be all right and was cuddling her like her mother. I could sure use some cuddling like that.

  Ron grabbed the guy by the arm and twisted it up behind his back. “Let go of me, motha-fucka!” The guy yelled. “That’s the crazy son-of-a-bitch you should be grabbin’. He’s got a gun, man.”

  “When I got here,” I told Ron. “Mr. Nice Guy here had a hand full of Terry’s hair. He don’t look like no hair dresser, so I made him let go.” I still had my pistol in my hand. I showed it to Ron then holstered it.

  Terry spoke up now. “Mike was pimping me out when I lived on the streets. He owes me some money. He called me at the club and said for old time's sake he wanted to pay me and tell me good-bye. He was gonna drag me off when Mr. Dark stopped him.”

  “You be a lying bitch!” Mike shouted at Terry.

  There was a white Cadillac about five feet from where Ron held Mike. He grabbed the back of Mike’s head with his right hand then tripped him, and running forward rammed his head into the Cadillac’s door. Mike’s head made a loud “Bwopp!” into the metal and left a dent.

  Ron let Mike slide to the ground. He left a smear of blood down the side of the car.

  “Damn Mikey,” Ron said to the prone form on the ground. “Now why’d you have to go messing with this here car,” He kicked Mike a good one in the ribs. Mike's ass made a squishy wet sound, like he shit his pants.

  Terry and Bobbie started walking back toward the club.

  Ron picked up Mike by his belt at his waist like a gym bag. He said, “Dark, if you don’t have nothing to do, we’re gonna play a game of wally-ball with this boy’s head in the back room. You can get in on this if you want.”

  “I’ll take a pass,” I answered. “Think I’ll go down and get me a couple White Castles.”

  Watching Ron carry Mike away, I could tell Mike was sure going to have a rock and roll night. All the rocks were going up-side his head and he’d be rolling around the floor.

  * * *

  I ate four White Castles and watched the families come in and go out of the swinging metal and glass doors. Couples with kids–I don’t have any kids, as far as I know.

  Rug rats, why do people want them anyway? They just fuck up everything. Make noise, make messes, and get in the way all the time.

  I was taking the final bite of my burger when a little girl in line with a man hugged his leg and said, “Daddy, I love you.”

  He answered her back stroking her head, “I love you too.” His face glowed when he said it.

  Hell, I just don’t understand that shit.

  * * *

  The thought of going by and playing Johnny a game of chess went through my mind but for some weird reason I’d feel strange if I did. I almost felt like I was betraying my friend already by just not telling him that Sushi was still dropping her duds for dudes.

  I had no idea why I should be feeling awkward. It wasn‘t like I was fucking Johnny’s girl or anything like that. I wouldn’t even consider doing anything like that, even if Sushi did look like she could do some major league boning.

  So, I drove around for a while, going nowhere in particular. After a while, I got bored with that. Before I knew it, I was driving back to Pattie’s Kitten House.

  * * *

  The place was the same as when I’d left it. Sweet looking women on the stages enticing guys into giving them their money for nothing more than a lingering look or smile. While strolling around the club I saw Terry and Bobbie going through their routine on another stage.

  With their white and black limbs all entwined on the stage they reminded me of a hot fudge sundae. I wouldn’t mind finding out if they melt on your tongue too.

  When they saw me, Bobbie waved and Terry gave me a come-on-over flip of her head. I did go on over. I watched them and near the end of their set Terry leaned out to where I was and whispered, “Follow us when we’re done. I want to thank you the right way.”

  My nuts jumped in my underwear when she said that.

  The music ended and Bobbie and Terry blew kisses to all of the guys, about six of them, that were seated at the stage. Then they exited through a door at the rear of the stage.

  The door was left ajar.

  I went through it, and before it shut behind me, glanced at the guys outside who wished they were where I was. Too fucking bad boys, some guys get it, and some don’t.

  I was about to get it.

  Hooray for me, and to hell with you.

  The girls were just a little bit up the hallway from me.

  They waved me on and I followed them around a corner to a door where their names were on a hanging sign with stars beside each. They opened the door and we entered a rather large dressing room. Well, at least it was larger than the dressing room where I’d taught Dallas what private investigating was all about.

  Terry was in front of me and Bobbie slid around behind me. Bobbie closed the door.

  In her high valley-girl voice Bobbie said, “Sherry doesn't like us bringing no customers back here, even if we do like them. But after what you did, you’re not just a customer.”

  Terry slid up close to me. Her lips were on my neck. Her breath was warm. “Mike would’ve got me out of here if it weren’t for you. He’d of pumped me full of junk and used me again.”

  She unbuckled and unzipped my pants and felt around inside, grasping my dick. Bobbie slid up close to me from behind. She pushed my pants and underwear down to my knees. She reached around front and cupped my balls with one of her hands and squeezed lightly.

  Terry kiss
ed me on the neck then kneeled down in front of me. She took my erection in her hand and stroked it. “Uh huh!” She said. “You do sho’ like this salt and pepper now, don’t ya.”

  With that, she slid her lips over my dick and took its entire length into her mouth. As I watched Terry swallow the whole of my manhood in one swoop, it hit me that Terry could go to work as a sword-swallower: "The Amazing Terry and Her Incredible Expanding Throat Muscles, able to swallow entire sides of beef in a single gulp."

  It was feeling good. That mouth of hers was slick and hot and she didn’t nick me once with her teeth. This girl knew what her jaws were made for and it wasn’t for singing.

  I grabbed the back of her head and pumped in and out a few times real deep. She took it like a champ and just smiled at me as good as she could with her jaws full.

  Then the door banged open.

  “Oh shit,” Bobbie said and let go of my balls.

  “You know I don’t allow you to do that here!” It was Sherry St. Clair. She didn’t look none too amused.

  Terry gave me one last good slide deep into her throat. Then with a smack she pulled her lips from my dick running her tongue once over the head.

  “We’ll finish this later at the apartment,” she breathed at me.

  Sherry came around to the front of me–me, with my trousers around my knees and my dick sticking straight out in front like a flag pole.

  “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” She asked.

  “Yeah,” I said, “Why don’t you pick up where Terry left off?”

  Sherry stifled a laugh and her gaze moved down my front to my erect member. “Put that thing away,” she said with a smirk on her face.

  I pulled my pants up and took my dick in my hand and looked in Sherry’s eyes. “Do I seem worthy?” I asked her.

  She blushed a bright red, cleared her throat then said, “We’ll see.”

  The girls were giggling and changing costumes.

  I buckled and zipped up and stepped out the door. The door swung open behind me. Sherry looked at me.

  “The one thing that pisses me off about this,” she said to them while looking through the crack at me, “Is that you started without me”.

  Sherry smiled. The door swung shut.

  Yeah, I thought, this is going to end up being one hell-of-a good night.

  * * *

  I walked back out through the door at the rear of the stage and went past a cute red head that had her butt in the air and an expression like she was constipated on her face. The eyes of the men at the stage followed me as I went down the stairs. I took a few steps then stopped and straightened my jacket.

  Nodding my head at them I said, “Just showing them what I’m famous for. You can check me out at your local triple X rated theaters in Long Dong Rides ‘Em Again. Oh yeah, leave the kiddies at home.”

  I went to the bar.

  “Give me an orange juice,” I said to the bartender. “I need to build up some vitamins.”

  Joe brought me the glass of juice. “I saw you follow those two backstage,” he said. “Knowing them, you better drink a lot of this.”

  I took a drink of the juice and saw Sushi in her street clothes walking toward me. I gave her a look that said, “Now what the fuck do you want?”

  “I know you are not my friend tonight,” she said. “But could you just give me a ride to Johnny’s after you take Sherry to her place. My car won’t start.”

  “I don’t know, I…”

  She cut me off, “I will tell Johnny tonight. It is only right that I do.”

  “I’ll run you by,” I told her.

  CHAPTER 12

  Face Down on the Pavement

  On the way to The Blaine Building it was agreed that I’d drop the girls and Sherry off at the front door, run Sushi to Johnny’s then come back for the after midnight delight. I had four fine looking women in my car. One of them I was getting rid of. Two of them I was definitely going to be throwing the bone to in as many creative ways as we could come up with. The other one well, we'll see.

  Sherry was sitting in the front seat across from me, giving me sly sideways glances and half smiles. There was a real possibility here that my three-way could become a four-way. One Black, one White, one Japanese-French, a sexual smorgasbord.

  You damn right I was getting rid of Sushi as fast as I could. Shit, she’d be lucky if I didn’t kick her ass into the street at the first stoplight.

  * * *

  As I drove across town Terry was playing with my neck from the back seat. She was kissing me on the back of the neck and was leaning over and sticking her tongue in my ear, every now and then she would run her hand down into my shirt and feel of the hairs on my chest. I was glad I’d just cleaned the wax out of my ears a few days earlier. I didn’t want her to be sucking something out of my ear that‘d be big enough to blow bubbles with.

  We got to The Blaine Building and I pulled up behind a delivery van parked at the curb in front of the glass doors. The doorman that came out was a different guy than the man I’d met earlier. He was the same type though. Thick neck, thick arms, thick head.

  I got out of my door and opened the rear door. Terry bounded out and grabbed me in a bear hug. I didn’t mind the hug from this sweet black bear so I pulled her to me.

  “Get yo’ white ass back here fast,” she whispered in my ear. Then her lips were on mine and her tongue was in my mouth and either our tongues were dancing or wrestling. It didn’t matter which, we were doing a grappling session, right there in the street.

  “John!” Sherry shouted and I came up for air. I thought that Sherry was just ticked off about my public display of horniness.

  A fist smashed me in the side of the head rocking me to the side and sending the lights around me spinning in crazy circles. I staggered. Strong arms looped around me, pinning my arms to my sides.

  My vision cleared for an instant. I looked into the grinning face of the muscle head from the East Side Gym. “I told you we would meet again,” he said and laughed.

  I snapped a kick at his crotch. He stepped to the side and my foot connected with the back of his thigh. “Good try,” he said in that weird semi-Eastern European accent of his.

  The girls were screaming. At least three other guys had come out of the van and were after them.

  I stomped on the guy’s toes behind me with the heel of my shoe. He didn’t even grunt. It felt like he had steel toe boots on.

  “Enough playing!” Caesar Lanista said. He drew back and blasted me with a hard overhand right. I tried to roll with it, but was held too damn tight.

  Stars exploded in my head. I sagged. He reached under my jacket and pulled my gun from my holster and threw it across the street.

  “I will let you live for now,” Caesar said. “I will come back to kill you, man to man, to enjoy it more.”

  Then another punch hit me, and then another. Whether they were uppercuts or crosses or hooks, I don’t know. I don’t even know if he hit me with ten more punches or just those two. After the two shots, I was out.

  * * *

  I woke up face down on the pavement. A siren was going off and getting louder. I didn’t know where I was or how I’d gotten there. Flashing lights were coming from a distance.

  When I tried to sit up someone said, “Stay down, an ambulance is coming.” Whoever it was put his hand on my back.

  I rolled over and knocked the guys hand out of the way.

  “Get the fuck off of me!” I yelled at him and he backed off.

  I stood up and the world was still doing flip flops so I sat on the hood of my car until the earthquake in my head stopped.

  All four of the ladies that were with me were gone and it was a sure bet they weren't sitting upstairs waiting for me to finish my nap.

  CHAPTER 13

  Police & Lawyers

  The ambulance arrived about fifteen seconds before the two police cars did. I told the EMTs to fuck off. I was up and on my feet so I didn’t need them.

>   The St. Louis Police didn’t take to the “FUCK OFF!” I threw at them as easily as the EMTs did. Before I got much more out, they had me bent over the hood of a squad car with my hands cuffed behind my back.

  When a big ugly cop who said he was Sergeant O’Malley frisked me he found I had on my empty holster. He looked through my wallet and after he saw my driver’s license said, “All right Dark, why are you wearing that holster?”

  “I keep my tissues in there,” I told him. “For times when little balls of shit like you show up.”

  He leaned down toward my cuffed hands, sniffing. I knew he was smelling for burnt gun powder that would leave an odor for a few hours on the hands of anyone who’d fired a pistol.

  His face was a few inches from my hands and my ass, so I ripped off a loud fart. It must have just about burned the hair off his mustache. O’Malley got a good whiff of that one.

  The three other cops laughed.

  I laughed too, I just couldn’t help it.

  “You slimy bastard!” O’Malley yelled, shaking his head and fanning the air in front of his face to clear the stench, then he upper-cutted me between the legs into my balls.

  Pain shot through me. My legs sagged. I slid down the side of the car to my familiar place on the ground.

  “Get him in the car,” O’Malley shouted and the other patrolmen bundled me into the back seat.

  * * *

  At the Police Department I discovered that the guy who found me on the ground was a criminal attorney. He saw when O’Malley slugged me in the nuts and followed the police cars to the station. His name was Anthony Steller.

  If it wasn’t for him, I probably would have gotten my head beat soft that night.

  O’Malley wasn’t in the mood to play around with me. After I eat those White Castle burgers I let loose with gas bombs that are damn near deadly. His brain must have been close to rotten after the way I’d fumigated his face.

  I was thrown on the cold cement floor of an interrogation room and left there.

 

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