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Deep
in the forest, they met at an abandoned house. Tommy threw a rock at a window.
Glass shattered. He picked up a second, hefted it, and his arm whipped in an
arc. The window rattled into pieces. The woman snarled at him.
At
his smirk, Leda Melancowski rolled her eyes.
“Grow
up.”
He
picked up a third rock, dusting it of sandy soil.
“Coach
in jail wants me to try out for the Philly’s agent.” He gave a small grunt,
then the last of the glass rattled onto the ground. Tommy wiped his hands off on
already dirty jeans. He rubbed the top of his zipper, a cold, hungry look to
him.
“Forget
it. We have work to do.”
The
kid shrugged. He hunted around for another rock, but there was no more glass to
break. He found a mouse. His foot snapped down on its tail. The mouse struggled.
Tommy’s other foot came up. He could feel it, the terror of the small rodent,
the certainty of death. Resting his foot on it, he pressed slowly. Shrieks of
pain washed from the mouse, ending in a thin scream.
Tommy
scooped it up by the tail. Blood ran from its crushed head. He raised it over
his head, then lowered it into his mouth and swallowed. Hot, sweet, raw blood
filled his mouth.
A
six-pack of Keystone beer was in Leda’s cooler. He opened one, chugged it, and
tossed the can at a pile of rotting garbage.
Leda
took one.
“The
Spider should have been here by now.”
“He’ll
come.” Tommy squatted on the grass. He rolled back, then opened his pants,
pushing them down and smiling at her.
“I’m
better than that kid. You said so.”
She
glanced down. “Yeah. You were. Remember where he was. Old man Conner’s
report to the Project said Benny learned a lot at the Manse. He’s a pro.”
“Friggin
whore.”
A
smile played at the corners of Leda’s mouth.
“Hmm.
A professional.”
Sulking,
Tommy rubbed his hand over his member. “Don’t matter squat. He’s going on
the Stone.”
Eyes
growing cold, Leda shrugged. “Not that Spider needs to know. Not if you want
your cut. Not if you want to live for the next few months.”
“Bitch.
Sweet Mama Bitch.”
His
back arched and Tommy groaned, turning so it sprayed over the grass and not on
his clothes.
Leda
smirked. No control. She slid to her knees and bent over Tommy. No nasty musk on
Tommy. No foreskin, so there was less chance of disease, at least from that
source. Not like Benny who was au natural, and that in itself added a little
excitement, a little more urge to her movements.
Leda
pulled away from Tommy’s clutching hands.
“I
need you with me,” she said, rising to brush dust from her knees. “I need
you at full strength or Spider will eat us alive.”
Growing
sulky, Tommy raised his butt from the ground and jerked his pants up, but let
the zipper open.
“I
hate that old fruit.”
Cocking
her head to one side, Leda gave him a muttered laugh.
“Like
Mom always told me, Can’t make it, fake it. Just close your eyes and pretend
you got it in my ass, not his. I’ll be there, right below him, whispering
power over him. I want this,” she said, her voice growing hard. “I want the
money that old bastard is going to give me.”
“Us.”
Her smile softened. “Yes,
sweetheart. Us.” She turned from him to stand by the dirt road. Spider was
late. He was never late, and she was growing worried.
©2002 StoriesByEmail.com
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