Jasmine (16 page)

“She should be giving us gifts
instead of us giving her anything,” she said. “The old bitch needs to be
smacked for what she said to Lilly Pad.”

Sin had never been one to forgive
and forget. Not, at least, when it concerned their mother. And Sin hated their
father. She’d drawn a gun on him once when he’d threatened to beat her ass
after she’d come home for a visit. Jazzie went out and learned how to fire a
weapon right after her sister had left and had become quite the marksman—or
woman.

“I think I’m going to get that for
Nathan, though,” Jazzie said as she stared at the watch in the jewelry store
display. “I know that the one he uses now keeps miserable time and I want to
give him something.” She glanced at the other women in the reflection of the
glass and saw the man behind them. He looked out of place and she started to
turn when Sin told her no.

“He’s from the bookstore. Don’t
acknowledge him in any way. And please don’t act nervous.” Sin touched her
waist and Jazzie knew she was armed. “He won’t get to you. I swear, he won’t
get to any of us if that is his plan.”

Jazzie went inside the jewelry
store and bought the watch. The person was going to engrave it, but it would
take a few days. While they were inside Sin told her quietly what they thought
was going on. And that Payton and Shamus were watching as well.

“His dad and ours were in prison
together. So far, we can’t make a connection to him and Roscoe, but we aren’t
going to take any chances. He’s been around for about a month now. Not really
doing much, but he has been seen around town.” Sin picked up a small bracelet
and purchased it for Tonya. “They, the police, think maybe he’s a crazed fan.”

“But you guys don’t think so, do
you?” Jazzie asked her. “Then what do you think he wants?”

“You.” They headed out the door
and back to the bookstore. “You could be the next target in this whole fucked
up thing going on with our family. I don’t want to believe that someone would
continue to hurt one of us, but there are too many…way too many things pointed
to us being on someone’s hit list.”

Jazzie found herself sitting at a
long table with hundreds of people lined up to buy her book before she could
sort through what her sister said. Sin had been happy to know that Jazzie was
armed and that she carried her weapon all the time, but she hadn’t been
thrilled when she told her that she couldn’t shoot someone to kill them.

“And do you think if he gets the
opportunity he’ll just let you go?” Sin practically snarled at her quietly.
“No. He’ll blow your fucking head off in a heartbeat.”

So she tried to make small talk to
each person who brought her the book and listened when they told her why they
loved her. Most of the people were just amazed that she was so “normal,” a few
called her. While a few more told her that she inspired them to write,
themselves, and if she would mind reading what they had. She directed those
people to her publisher, telling them gently that she had no time to read
anymore that she was trying to finish up the next series.

Jazzie hoped that the next time
her publisher pushed her into something like this she’d remember that she could
fight dirty too. She smiled when Nathan came in with Cain, Shamus, and Payton. Each
of them purchased a book and she wrote something more in Nathan’s. He flushed
when Cain asked to read it. She was still laughing when the man from outside
set his book in front of her.

“Make it to my mom. Her name is
Bettina, Bettina Marshall.”

She opened the book to the first
page and picked up her pen. She was slightly nervous and was really surprised
when Sin handed her a bottle of water.

Just as she was about to tell her
no, she didn’t want it, somehow the bottle slipped from her fingers and before
she or Sin could catch it, the thing went flying. Before she could stand and
mop up the mess, Sin was snatching the book away and had paper towels right
there. Within seconds the book was gone, the water was cleaned up, and a fresh
book was in front of her. She looked up at the man again.

“My sister is a little clumsy. She
seems to get worse all the time.” He laughed at her a little nervously and she
opened the book again, careful of any bottles and of her sister, who was
nowhere to be seen. “If you’ll give me your address, Mr. Marshall, I’ll make
sure that your mother gets the next copy for free because of this. I don’t want
fans to think we’re all bumbling idiots.”

He told her not to worry about it
and took the book almost as soon as she closed it. He nearly knocked down two
women on his way out. Jazzie tried to make a joke about him being embarrassed
and the women around her laughed. She wanted to find her sister and beat the
snot out of her, but didn’t get the chance. She spent the next four hours
signing books and talking with “fans.”

~~~

Tank got out of there fast. He
knew what had happened in there even if the girl signing his book hadn’t. The
sister had gotten his prints. And as sweaty as he’d been around all those
people, he would bet she got his DNA too. Fuck, and double fuck.

He had to think, so he pulled in
an alley and turned off his engine. He’d been so scared that he’d not even made
sure he wasn't being followed. He watched the traffic flow behind him and
didn’t see anyone who seemed to be going slow, so he relaxed a bit, but not
entirely.

He’d known that the girl was some
kind of cop. He’d never really understood the woman when they’d described that
one, but only that she was something in the army and that she’d been a failed
attempt too. Tank wondered who the fuck these people were that they hung out
with cops, rich broads, and writers. Of course they knew they were family, but
what kind of family hung out in packs like these did?

He looked over at the book and
thought about tossing it in the dumpster, but decided that he’d use it as a
souvenir when this was over. He picked it up and began reading the first page. He
was into the fifth chapter when he realized it was late and he could go troll
the streets again for a woman.

Tank started in the lower east
side. He wanted the right kind of woman, not just a hooker. He wanted one that
was plump and a little on the lower side of thirty. Someone that he could fuck
if he wanted and, when he was finished with her, no one would miss her. He
thought he’d found the right one twice, but someone else would pull up and
she’d get in the car with them. Just when he was ready to give up she walked
out onto the street and he knew he had to have her.

Her hair was long and dark. He
thought maybe it was red, but under the lights she was standing, it was just
hard to tell. She looked to be about thirty-five, maybe a little older, but not
much. She also looked to be about twenty pounds overweight. He pulled up along
the curb just as she was leaning against the stop sign.

“Need a date, big boy,” she purred
into his open window. “Or are you out cruising? I can show you the best places
to ride on if you have the cash.”

He knew the code. She’d do him in
the car and she knew the perfect place to do it without getting the cops
busting them up. Tank didn’t speak, but opened the automatic locks for her and
she climbed inside. After a quick exchange of money they were on their way. She
picked up his book off the seat.

“Hey, I read about her today. Says
she is gonna be making a movie on the hobo station. Mary said that the books
got the most wonderful sex scenes in ‘em.” She looked over at him. “That what
you wanna do, lover boy? Something you read in this here book? I’m game if’n
you are.”

“Yeah,” he told her. “I’m wanting
to do what she and her lover do on page seventy. You look it up while I drive.”
He was glad now that he’d not thrown the book out and that he’d read some of
it. Who would have thought that a book would get him laid? He reached down to
the side of his seat and felt the knife he’d just bought today. It was
sharpened to a razor cut and he had a hard-on just thinking about plowing it
into her. Or course, this was after he played with her for a while.

She directed him to an alley just
off the middle of nowhere. He parked where she’d said and pointed out that the
lights down this way had been knocked out by her pimp some years ago and nobody
had gone in to replace them.

“Budget cuts,” she told him. “That
and the mayor taking a major cut to supply his mistress. Hell, there ain’t much
left for a couple of light bulbs on a dead end street.”

As soon as the engine was off she
leaned over and unzipped his jeans. His cock was hard, stone hard, and when she
released him from his boxers he heard her sharp intake. He leaned back when she
took him into her mouth.

He picked up the knife and was
running it along her back when she nipped at his full head. He moaned, knowing
that when he cut her, she was going to bite him harder. He put his free hand on
the back of her head and pumped her up and down his cock while he cut her bra
open.

Before she could lift her head up
to protest, he cut her. Her scream was loud and he could feel her teeth sinking
into his cock.
Yes
, his mind screamed. He ran the knife along her spine,
deep enough to draw blood, but not enough to end what they were doing. She was
struggling now. Her head was coming up so far off his cock that he knew if he
hadn’t held her there, she’d lose him. As he pounded her head up and down his
dick, he cut her again and again. Blood poured from her and onto the seat
beneath them. He was glad now that he’d taken the precaution to cover the seat
with a sheet of plastic then a blanket he’d picked up at Goodwill.

He was close, so close that when
he felt her bite him again, he shot his load deep into her throat. Her gagging
only made him come harder. As the last of his cum spilled from his cock, he
buried the knife into her back and straight through her heart. She dropped on
him as he jerked twice more.

Tank sat there with the dead woman
on his lap. He felt relieved, sated too. He lifted her head off his lap and
moved her to the seat. His cock was covered in blood, some his and some hers. He
wrapped his fist around his still hard shaft and used the blood to jerk off.
He’d never done this before and the sensation was amazing. Her warm blood along
his hot dick made him come quickly. Cum shot up out of him and all over the
steering wheel and the dash as he shouted out his release. Tank laid his head
back against the seat and smiled.

He knew he needed to get rid of
her body, but he wanted to enjoy the soft afterglow of coming so nicely. He
knew that once he finished up with the hooker, he was going back to the house
and sleeping like a baby.

Tank got out of the truck and
walked around while he stripped off his clothes. He pulled his duffle out of
the back, as well as the large trash bag. He found himself whistling while he
cleaned himself up. Three gallons of water poured over his head as he soaped
himself off. As soon as he was fairly clean, he went to the other door and
pulled the body out.

He dumped the three gallons of
bleach he brought with him all over her. He did this naked so he was very
careful to keep the chemical from his body. Once he had her covered in the
stuff he dumped another gallon of laundry detergent on her. After wrapping her
up in the plastic from the seat, he took her over to the dumpster just behind
him and tossed her in it. He knew it would be days before they found her and
maybe, if he was really lucky, they would never find her. After pouring the
last two gallons of water over his head again, he pulled out the cheap towel
and dried off. By the time he was dressed again, he was getting tired. He drove
back to the house, crawled into his crappy bed, and fell asleep immediately. He
didn’t even bother setting his alarm, just simply tossed it onto the dresser.

His room was bright with light
when he woke. It took him several seconds to try and sort through the noise
coming from somewhere deep in his sleep. He finally sat up and looked around
and realized that his cell phone was chirping. He got up and barked hello into
it when he got it opened.

“I want to know why you didn’t do
what you said you were going to do yesterday.” He tried to remember what he was
supposed to do when she spoke again. “The fucking girl, you bastard.”

For a minute, he thought she was
talking about the hooker. That was the only woman he’d killed yesterday and had
a fleeting moment of wondering how the hell she’d found out. And who the fuck
was this anyway? He started to ask when he remembered.

“You fucking telling me how to do
my job, bitch? It’s too fucking early in the morning for you to be bitching
about how I do what I do best. She’ll get dead, you just keep your panties on. Unless,
of course, you wanna go down on me. I got a hard-on that’ll even impress you.” His
cock immediately hardened at the thought of killing this bitch. “Come on over. Let
me show you how I like it.”

Her laughter grated along his
nerves. He felt his fist tighten around the phone and he wanted to crush it
like he did her head. This woman was going to have to pay for this. She was
entirely too uppity for his tastes.

“It’s three in the afternoon, you
moronic jackass. What did you do, find some hooker and get your rocks off in
some dark alley?” He froze at her comment. “You’ll start doing things my way or
so help me, I’ll find someone who will. I’m tired of fucking with you. I want
her gone. Today.”

Tank closed the phone and sat on
the bed. There was something wrong here. He wondered when he’d lost control of
the situation and the way things were going. Then there was the woman. He’d
known from the start that she wasn’t right. He also knew that he had to either
finish this now or leave. He decided that if he didn’t finish it today then he
was leaving. There were strange things going down and he didn’t want to be a
part of it.