The Nightlife: San Antonio

by Travis Luedke

  Adrian grumbled to himself about forgetting his damn keys and turned around to go back to his truck, heading straight for Wife-beater who shot him a squinty-eyed look of suspicion, but kept advancing on him.

  The man feigned a pretense of casual movement. “Hey, I need to make a phone call. Can I use your phone?” The casual look evaporated as his face morphed into a menacing grimace and his hand emerged from behind him with a gleaming, black semi-auto pistol.

  With a fistful of quarters, Adrian smashed through Wife-beater’s nose like so much useless flesh. The guy went up in the air, almost floating, and then dropped to the sidewalk on his back with a grunt. “Motherfucker.” His voice sounded wet with blood from his busted face.

  Adrian stomped on his gun hand. A meaty crunch was followed by a little squeal of pain. The gun wasn’t going anywhere, probably a couple of broken digits in there. He glanced around to see if anyone witnessed his little altercation and then scooped up the pistol and slipped it into his sweatpants’ pocket. He didn’t see anyone, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t some nosy a-hole hiding behind window blinds calling the cops right now.

  The cops were the least of Adrian’s worries at the moment. The Black Hand on the ground spitting blood and cursing Adrian’s mother was the real issue. Adrian grabbed his foot and dragged him off the sidewalk, the back of his head bouncing on the asphalt. He pulled him all the way around the corner into the entrance of the alleyway. No one could see them unless they actually came down the alley. No floodlights anywhere.

  Wife-beater started to catch his wits and struggle, kicking to free his foot. With a two-handed grip, Adrian twisted to the left. Wife-beater did what they always do, he fought that momentum. Then Adrian did what he always did, reversed the twist to the right in a snap-back motion. Working with the tension of the man’s fight, his ankle spun all the way around and gave way with a sickening crack. The body can’t spin fast enough to go with it, so the ankle pops.

  Wife-beater cried out, like they always do when their ankle breaks in his hands. The guy wasn’t going to be jogging anywhere for a while.

  “Motherfucking puto! I’m gonna kill you. Chinga su madre, I’m gonna fuck you up. That’s a promise.”

  They don’t usually talk so much shit with a broken ankle and fingers. This guy proved an exceptional shit-talker.

  Adrian held pressure on the break, bringing the shit-talker to a slow, whining silence. “You’re not going to kill anyone, not tonight. There’s two ways this goes down. One, you tell me what I want to know, and you can crawl home to whatever rock you came out from under. Two, you don’t tell me, or you lie, and you never see home again. This alley, and my face, will be the last things you ever see in this world.”

  When he spoke to a man under such an exhilaratingly intense situation, Adrian made sure his voice was calm, quiet. He made sure they understood the gravity of the moment. Never let it be said he didn’t give a man a chance to talk.

  “I don’t care what you say, puto. You and that bitch, La Reina, are already dead. La Eme got a contract, and they sent me here.”

  Adrian cranked his ankle hard to the left and then right. The grinding of broken bones and tendons accompanied the man’s whimpers. Even tough guys whimper under this kind of pain. He wasn’t sure how far to go. Here in civilian land, there were no rules of engagement. He’d never had to worry about it in Iraq or Kuwait. They’d told him when to go, and who to grab, and he did as told.

  “Aye chingao madre! You coulda walked, cabron.” Blood and spittle flew from his mouth as he groaned in agony. “But no, not when La Eme sees what you did to me. You wanna die to protect that bitch? The word came straight from the Generals. La Reina goes down, no matter what. If you know who she is, you’d know this ain’t no business for gringos. La Eme viene para ella, and there ain’t no stopping them soldiers. I came to find out what you know. But you got me all fucked up.”

  That’s exactly what Adrian was afraid of. Though he might be a bit extreme in moments like these, he wasn’t an idiot. He knew when he was holding a poisonous snake with real bite. This man was a serious problem. He would become a much bigger problem if he ever spoke of this encounter.

  Wife-beater wasn’t giving Adrian any reason to let him live.

  At Adrian’s silence, the man pushed his agenda harder. “Do you know her? Did she speak to you? Talk to me, maybe you can live. Maybe.”

  This was not working out so hot. The guy was supposed to be begging. They all beg. These Black Hands were hard bastards. Fuck!

  A voice called out of the dark. “Adrian, is that you? What’s going on?”

  Shit, Crenshaw! No time for anything else.

  Adrian leaped atop the man and grabbed his head in both hands. A hard jerk left, then right, then the telltale crunchy-crack of a broken spinal column. The man’s breath slid out in a slow hiss as his body relaxed, unconscious. Death would soon follow.

  The neck breaks easier than the ankle.

  Adrian stood up and stepped away just in time for Crenshaw to come around the corner and catch him staring down at the body of a Mexican Mafia.

  “Son of a bitch! Adrian, did you do this? What happened?”

  Adrian looked at him, calmly. No murderers around here. “This is how I found him.”

  Crenshaw looked at him, his head cocked sideways. Confusion and disbelief flitted across his face. “Are you serious? You just found him like this? Didn’t see no one?”

  Adrian nodded, cool as could be, trying his best to calm the racing beat of his lying heart. “I was walking past, and saw him like this.”

  Crenshaw turned in a circle, looking around the parking lot, and then up and down the alley. “Well, I didn’t see nothing. I don’t know shit.”

  He stepped up to get a closer look, and knelt down to inspect the tattoo on the guy’s shoulder. “Fucking Mexican Mafia. You see the black hand, with the E M E inset? And this tattoo here of the Eagle and Snake? This guy was a soldier in the Mexican Mafia. Somebody’s gonna be in the shit on this deal. They always retaliate in full force. These guys run the show, dude. They run the prisons, the streets, and they’re tied to every major cartel in Mexico.”

  Crenshaw scowled. “They definitely got a grip on San Antonio.” Apparently this little fact bothered Crenshaw, a lot.

  Adrian stepped back and shrugged. “Like I said, I found him this way. It’s got nothing to do with me.”

  Crenshaw stared Adrian in the eyes. “I ain’t gonna say squat. One dead gang-banger is one less on the streets. No skin off my hide.”

  “You sure I can count on you? I don’t want to get dragged into any gang shit. You promise you won’t tell anybody?” Adrian watched him closely, a heavy feeling of unease in his gut.

  Crenshaw seemed taken aback. “Dude, serious? You know I got your back. I didn’t see nothing. I don’t know nothing about no dead bodies in the alley. And if you know what’s good for you, that’s exactly what you’ll say if anyone ever asks.”

  * * * *

  Chapter 12

  Waking up to a cold, empty bed was not her idea of fun. “Adrian, this is not the deal I made.” She called his name several more times. The silence confirmed what she had already sensed. The apartment was empty.

  Where was her personal bodyguard and bloodslave? He was supposed to be here, for her, when she needed him, when she was hungry, when she wanted a warm body to keep her safe and help find the answers to her missing life. No note on the refrigerator, no sign of where he went or when he would return. She prowled his apartment, alone again, with no answers, and enemies she couldn’t even remember. Her stomach growled in gnawing, churning hunger.

  Standing in front of an open refrigerator full of food she couldn’t eat, she felt hungry enough to drain a man dry. She sniffed at herself. “Ugh, I smell like Adrian, and sex.” Shower time.

  Under the steaming hot water, she used the only soap she could find, man-scent shampoo-body wash. She still ended up smelling like him. At least she was clean. H
er stomach rumbled and her teeth dropped down, sharp and ready to munch on someone.

  She toweled off and used his toothbrush and toothpaste, pretty much used whatever he had. It was glaringly obvious the man had never lived with a woman. He didn’t own any lotion, no hairspray, no styling gel, no conditioner, no face-wash, not one thing a woman wants or needs in a bathroom. His closet proved the same. Nothing but extra-large shirts and jeans three sizes too big for her. Her selection became a lesser of evils. The oversized t-shirt that barely covered her ass, or the way oversized button down shirt that fit so loose she might as well wrap herself in a bed sheet.

  She went for the button down, and had to roll the sleeves back three times just to get it to her wrists. The guy had to be over six feet tall with a whole lot more reach than she had. She tried on a couple pairs of his boxer shorts, but they kept falling off her slender hips. In the end, she went for an old pair of tighty-whitey cotton briefs. Nothing else fit her thin frame.

  Run a belt around this monster shirt and she could have pulled off the Stevie Nicks 80’s look. 80’s? How old am I? How do I know what the hell they wore in the 80’s? Things just popped into her mind, seemingly from nowhere, and it never ceased to aggravate her.

  How can she know things, and yet not know anything about herself?

  She sensed Adrian at the door before she heard him. Yep, they were definitely bonded, no question about it. She dreaded explaining it to him, explaining why she did it without asking, without warning. Her survival had depended on claiming Adrian as her own.

  Unable to wait another second, she flew to the door and opened it just as Adrian was reaching for the knob. “Where have you been? I’m going nuts in here by myself.” She wrapped her arms around him, savoring the wonderful scent of her man.

  “Hey there, friendly.” His arm slipped around her.

  She caught a touch of anxiety in his voice and looked up to find the redneck neighbor she had seen the other night, with the blond mullet haircut and a heavy Texas drawl.

  “Oh, hi.”

  Adrian’s sweaty chest against her face, she tried not to show any fang when she smiled at the neighbor.

  He grinned back at her, a twinkle of mischief in his eye. “Well look at that. I had no idea you were keeping this little beauty tucked away. And wearing your shirt too.” His head tilted down to catch a better look at her bare legs. “Now ain’t that something.”

  Adrian stepped in, dragging her along under his arm, pulling her away from the other man. “Later, Crenshaw. The lady requires attention.”

  He was trying to make light, but she sensed tension underlying his every move, and it put her on edge.

  The guy started following Adrian in the door. “What about that … the situation out there. You’re just gonna let it be?”

  Adrian turned and stopped him with a finger on his chest and a slight push. “It’s not my problem. Like you said, these guys can’t kill each other off fast enough.”

  Crenshaw struck a wry grin and nodded. “Yeah, but we need to talk –”

  “Later.” Adrian clicked the door shut in his neighbor’s face and snapped the double deadbolts.

  He turned back to her and watched her with that unnervingly intense stare until she thought she would burst with tension. He stepped up to her as her stomach growled audibly. “First, we take care of business.” His fingers caressed her jawline and brushed her lips, peeling her bottom lip down to expose her fully elongated fangs. “I want it. You want it. So, just do it.”

  He leaned to the right, baring the left side of his neck. Aye que bueno, it was so wonderful to have a strong, beautiful man serving her needs. Somehow, she knew it wasn’t going to be as wonderful as it could be. The man was holding something back, and she didn’t like it one bit.

  Hunger trumped all else, so she indulged them both and leapt up on him. Her arms and legs clamped onto his strong, sweaty torso. She sunk deep into the skin and his sighs echoed her own. This is how it was meant to be – a strong man ready for her, two becoming one in shared life.

  She took what he offered, but not too much. Her man needed his strength, and she needed him to last, to keep feeding her, until she could figure out something of her former life. She let go of his delicious flesh after no more than a minute.

  He shuddered in her grip, and his throbbing erection pushed up under her thigh. This she enjoyed as much as feeding, taking care of his need. The man had obviously gone without a woman for far too long. She uncoiled from him and pecked him on the lips as her fingers slid into the waistband of his pants and found him hard. The man had one seriously grandote penis. She had chosen this obnoxious man for a bloodslave and protector, and therefore had to contend with the size of his cock.

  “Wait a minute, girl. We need to chat.”

  She stroked him, feeling his hips pull forward. She could have a lot of fun tugging on this man, tasting all his flavors. “We have all night long to talk. Why not take care of this first.” She tickled at the soft, thick head of him, feeling the oozing wetness there.

  “Well, since you put it that way …” His eyes smoldered with need, and she planned to give him all he needed.

  She went down onto her knees and slipped the waistband of his pants down to free the monster within. It popped up and bounced in her face, happy to get some attention. Before he could protest or start into whatever caused that brooding intensity behind those staring eyes, she took him full into her mouth, most of him.

  As she hoped, he ceased worrying about anything else, and grabbed the back of her head, making sure he shoved that thing all the way into her throat. She couldn’t help it if her teeth came out, ready to bite into all that warm, blood-filled flesh, but she tried so hard not to scrape him, not to bite. When he pushed all the way in, trapping her lips against his pubic bone, she nipped him accidentally.

  “Hey! What the hell?” He jerked her hair back hard and pulled her off his cock. “Damn it! Put those teeth away, you got no business biting me down there.”

  She gasped, catching her breath, and snarled at him. “If you’d stop trying to choke me to death, maybe I could handle it better. I couldn’t even breathe.”

  “This was a huge mistake. I never should have let you stay. Shit. I never should have brought you here.”

  She couldn’t understand why he was so angry. It was just a little nip, not even bleeding really, just a scratch. “Here. Let me clean it, for you. It won’t hurt if you let me help.”

  She licked at the nick on the side of his cock, just enough to let her venom work its magic. “Damn it woman. Why do you have to tempt me so badly.”

  He pulled her up and lifted her into his arms. In another two seconds they were on the bed, and the tighty whiteys she stole from him went flying. The man could be an insanely ravenous lover, and she didn’t know how to slow him down. “Wait! I’m not ready yet!”

  His face went down and heaven exploded from between her legs as he lapped at her most delicate folds. His tongue slipped, in, swirled around, penetrated slightly, and then he sealed his lips against her and sucked hard. “Dios mio!” She buried her fingers in his hair and held on as he sucked and tongued a glorious orgasm out of her.

  Grinding her wet pussy into his lips and teeth, humping through her climax, suddenly she felt cool air. He was up and tearing off his sweatpants and t-shirt. His weight hit her at the same time his cock pushed into her wet and oh-so-ready flesh. He slid in partway with a glorious pressure and then the pain hit again.

  “Wait!” She clawed her way back up the bed, trying to relieve the pressure inside of her.

  He was too far gone to wait. He shoved in, pushing all that hard cock right past whatever the restriction was, and finally he filled her to bursting. She could almost taste his cock as it pushed so deep inside her that she screamed and writhed in the overwhelming blend of pain and pleasure.

  “Not again? What the–”

  He popped up and slid out of her to look down at his red-stained rock-hard cock. “H
ow the hell can you still be a virgin? That’s not even possible.”

  She had no answers, and at the moment she didn’t care. The pleasure of having him buried inside her was worth the momentary pain. She grabbed his ass and wrapped her legs around his thighs and tugged that monster right back where it belonged. “No more talk, just give it to me.”

  Dios mio, he gave it to her, all of it, relentlessly. It was so worth it.

  * * * *

  Adrian awoke from his second orgasm in over an hour of non-stop sex with this psycho vampire who had cut the bed sheets with her claws as she screamed his name, over and over. The woman was like a multiple personality nutjob – one minute this beautiful, frail crazy chick, the next minute biting his neck and riding his hardest grudge-fuck, like she couldn’t get enough. He knew without a doubt he had hurt her, but she lay beneath him smiling, still humping her hips, still wanting more.

  He didn’t think he had anything more, at least not for a few hours. She took it all and left him nothing. Breathing hard and shaking on arms weak from exertion, he slipped away from her and lay on his back.

  After a minute of breath, he finally got a chance to speak without her licking, sucking, biting or fucking his mind into oblivion. “How can you be a virgin, twice?”

  He waited to hear her explain the inexplicable, and all he got was a purring sound as she cuddled up to grind her wet pussy on his thigh, and rub her cheek on his chest. She sounded like a little motor-boat of growling pleasure.