by JJ Lamb
There were several cars and trucks in the parking lot, and a big mother-fucker of a bouncer waiting for them at the door.
It looked like business wasn’t great, but it wasn’t bad either.
Rocky got out of the truck, saw a large six-foot sign posted right outside the first trailer.
NELLIE’S NOOK
THIS IS THE STARLIGHT RANCH
IT'S NOT A HOUSE—NOT A HOME
PAY UP
DO YOUR THING
MOVE ON
Bet they think they’re pretty damn funny.
He’d heard a lot of rumors about the place, but he’d never been inside. He knew their prices were high and they had a reputation for good, clean girls.
Hell, I’m just going to fuck them, not marry them.
He elbowed Pete and got him out of the truck. The bouncer watched them move toward the front door. Pete was stumbling and Rocky had to hold him up.
“Maybe you better wait in the car, you loser.”
“Hell, no! I’m getting me some action, big brother.”
Rocky hated when Pete called him that. Yeah, they’d been together for a long time, but Rocky had no family and he didn’t want one. Family let you down even quicker and harder than the average bear.
“You looking for a good time?” the bouncer said at the entrance.
Pete answered, laughing like a hyena, “Whadda you think, we’re here for, a seminar?”
Rocky threw an arm around his shoulder. “Don’t listen to this fool. What we’re lookin’ for is to get laid.”
“Not me. I want a blow job,” Pete said, punching Rocky in the arm, laughing his fool head off.
“We don’t allow no guns inside. I’m gonna have to pat you down.”
“We’re not carrying, but go ahead.”
“You touch my junk and you’re a dead man,” Pete said.
The bouncer looked him square in the eye. “The last thing I want to touch is your fuckin’ junk, asshole.”
“Hey, just ignore the jerk and do what you gotta do,” Rocky said.
A police special tucked in a shoulder holster peeked from under the big man’s jacket when he squatted down and did his search. He finally nodded them through.
Inside, the lights were dim, sexy music played in the background, and the furnishings were run down and spotted—could have used a real fixing up. Four men sat in covered arm chairs, staring at six girls hoofing past them, wearing skimpy costumes. It was hard to tell the whores’ ages, but they were all young enough to make Rocky definitely want to fuck them.
Rocky’s gaze flew past two in parochial school uniforms, a skinny broad dressed as a Raggedy Ann doll, a Snow White, a belly dancer, and one in a nurse’s uniform.
Now that’s what I call accommodating. Even looks a little like that Mazzio bitch—tall, with black Dago hair.
The madam, a woman in her fifties, if she was a day, hovered over the men ahead of them. “This isn’t a hotel fashion show. Take your pick and get on with it.”
Two of the men stood and smiled at Nellie, if that was her name. They each had gaps in their front teeth and looked grungy, with sweat-stained underarms. The madam held out her hand and they filled her fist with bills before each took the hand of a school girl. The men sure as hell weren’t first timers because they pulled the girls down one of the hallways like they knew exactly where to go.
Pete dozed on and off; Rocky waited, trying to ignore the pressure building in his groin.
Two more girls came wandering out to join the others. They each wore short nighties and Rocky could tell they were already done in by their pale faces and phony smiles. They must have been favorites because the two men in front of Rocky and Pete immediately jumped up and grabbed the girl’s hands like they were late for a date.
The madam was quick to block Rocky and Pete from going farther into the waiting room.
“Now hold on a second, you two. No cookie, no nookie.” She thought she was pretty damn funny because she cackled as she grabbed their money and let then move on.
“You boys know what you want, yet?”
“Yeah, we’ll take the nurse.” Pete sat up and looked around.
“You both taking one?”
“You got some house rule against that?” Rocky said.
The madam didn’t seem to like Rocky’s attitude. She stiffened, thrust a hand into her pocket, and glared at them. He knew she was probably packin’ some kind of pea shooter. They always were.
“For you and your buddy, it’ll cost triple … and don’t you go thinking you’re gonna pull any wise ass shit on me or my girls, ‘cause I’ll ream your ass with a pole. You won’t be sittin’ so good, but your mouth will be a lot more respec’ful. Get it?”
“All I want is a blow job,” Pete whined.
Rocky raised both hands. “I didn’t mean anything disrespectful, ma’am.”
“Yeah, well that’ll still be three hundred bucks.” She held her hand out, palm up.
Once the madam was paid, the nurse took them to a small room that was almost filled with a king-size bed. Rocky had seen better, but he’d seen worse, too. Pete just stood there staring at the girl’s mouth as she sucked one finger.
“What’ll make you happy, baby?” she said to Pete.
Pete looked at Rocky. “You go first.”
“Nah, I like to watch.” He nodded at the woman, who sidled up to Pete and ran her hands up and down the front of his jeans.
Pete’s eyes were at half-mast, but he had a stupid, shit-eating grin on his face as she pulled down his fly. The woman pushed him onto the bed, took a wash cloth from a small side table, yanked out his cock, and washed him down. Then she ran her hands under his balls while her lips and tongue rode the length of him. She couldn’t have been at it a full minute when he twitched a couple of times and blew his wad.
“Fool! See what the booze does for you? You aint got no stamina.”
Pete looked at Rocky with the same silly-assed grin on his face; he rolled over and immediately went to sleep.
Rocky slid his buddy off the bed and stared at the nurse. She had moved to the center of the bed, pulled her dress up around her hips and was running her fingers around and inside herself, pumping with her ass, tonguing her lips.
“What do you want, baby?”
Rocky had a boner that wouldn’t quit; he bulged painfully inside his jeans. He looked at the uniform and the cardboard nurse’s cap pinned to her head.
“Take off the fuckin’ dumb hat.”
She lifted it away and tossed it on the small side table. He looked her up and down. “Get the rest off, you piece of shit.”
Her expression changed, like a fast moving storm. She was scared. He could see her eyeing the door, but she’d have to go through him to get to it. She carefully took off the grungy white uniform-like dress, freeing her small boobs. He could see the Mazzio broad in his head—tall, skinny, black hair, just like this bitch.
It felt like all his blood had drained from the rest of his body and pooled in his cock—a volcano filled and ready to blow.
He undid his pants, crawled onto the bed, straddled her, and rested his hands on her breasts. Rocky waited, but she didn’t move; he tossed her legs over his shoulders, thrust himself inside her and plunged in and out, over and over and over.
Nothing! No relief.
His cock grew tighter, bigger; stretched, hurt. But he couldn’t climax.
Fucking nurse’s fault. That fucking bitch!
“You whore!” he screamed. His hand balled into a fist and he slammed her in the mouth, again and again, beating on her until blood was all over the pillows and spread, smeared across her face, arms, and breasts.
Rocky laughed as her screams bounced off the walls.
When they grabbed him, he roared even louder as a geyser of spunk sprayed out across the bed.
Chapter 27
Rocky looked through the steel bars at Pete in the adjoining cell. He was sitting on the floor, his long legs stretched out in fr
ont of him. The jerk was finally sober after heaving all over himself and the squad car; he never stopped barfing during the twenty-minute ride from the whorehouse to the police station. Rocky was disgusted; he couldn’t seem to get away from the stink of the mess all over the idiot’s shirt and pants; he might as well have been sitting on top of him.
Made the cops mad, that’s for damn sure.
He chuckled, knowing the pigs had to clean up the gunk.
Pete was doing it again, picking at his face. It really pissed Rocky off he had to sit in this godforsaken cell and watch that boob stab at the mole on his face.
Pick, pick, pick.
How many times have I told the dork to stop doing that? It’ll only give him trouble. Not supposed to pick at those things. What a damn fool.
Rocky looked over at the large clock on the opposite wall. His gaze latched onto the moving hand, traveling to each second where it would pause with a click before moving on. It was almost three in the morning. They’d been in the slammer for two hours.
“When’s Ethan gonna come get us, huh?” Pete said, digging deeper into his face.
“Leave that goddam thing alone, for chrissakes.”
Pete ignored him, kept on pick, pick, picking.
“When’s he gonna get here?”
“Stop your whining. He’ll be here soon enough … not gonna let us off work. So shut up and wait.”
“It smells bad in here. I don’t like it.”
“Well, it wouldn’t stink if you hadn’t puked all over everything, you jerk.”
“I’m not the jerk who beat up the whore. Why’d you have to do that, anyway?”
Rocky sat on the floor, brought his legs up. “She looked like that friggin’ nurse at the Comstock. It set me off.”
“Mazzio? Nah, she don’t look nothin’ like her. Besides, that whore gave me a good blow job.” Pete grinned.
“How would you know? You were stinkin’ drunk.”
“So you say—”
They were interrupted by a guard, who first unlocked Pete’s cell, then Rocky’s. “You made bail, you losers.”
Pete was out of the cell like a shot, but Rocky took his own sweet time, strolling like he was taking a walk in the park.
* * *
Ethan watched the two men leave the police station and walk toward the SUV. He was fuming, tapping a shoe on the floor in an erratic rhythm.
Looking at those two cretins had his stomach shooting sparks.
Bribing the madam of Nellie’s Nook, along with the sheriff and his deputies, had cost him a bundle of money. And all of it was coming out of his own pocket. David Zelint would go through the ceiling if he even got wind of any of this.
All so he could get those two freaks out of jail.
You’d think two ex-cons would have more sense than to get into this kind of mess and get thrown back in jail.
Pete wouldn’t look Ethan in the eye, but Rocky wore his cowboy hat low, the rim hanging over wraparounds, exaggerating the arrogant sneer on his lips.
Three in the morning, just bailed out of jail, and he’s still trying to look like a punk movie star.
Rocky never lost his pace as he slid into the front passenger side, slamming the door. Pete melted into the back seat on the driver’s side, closing the door with a quiet click.
Ethan turned to glare at Rocky—security flood lights posted around the station lot shone on the man’s face.
“What the hell did you think you were doing?”
Silence.
“Did you hear me?”
Silence.
“If you want to get your rocks off in a whorehouse, that’s fine. But beating up a woman is insane. What on earth could she have done to make you slam her in the face so hard you fractured her nose and cheekbones? She’s going to need extensive facial reconstruction.” Ethan paused. “And who the hell do you think is going to pay for that?”
“You are, Ethan.” Rocky’s steely voice promised more trouble to come. It made Ethan’s skin prickle.
“Why the hell should Comstock pay for your after-hours problems?”
Ethan glanced at Pete in the rearview mirror. He could tell Pete didn’t like Rocky making trouble.
“Do I have to spell it out for you?” Rocky said.
“Put your cards on the table right now, so we know where we stand,” Ethan said, leaning into Rocky’s space.
“In case you haven’t noticed, you’ve been cutting out people’s brains.”
“I’m a pathologist. That’s what I do! Examining brains is a big part of our study. This is all about science and the study we’re involved in. Not that I expect you to understand.” Ethan sat back, threw his hands up in exasperation. “God, you’re dumb!”
“Not dumb enough.” Rocky gave him an evil grin. “Not half as dumb as you think we are.”
He’s right. I’m the stupid one, letting him get the upper hand.
Ethan had gotten comfortable, not only with the whole AZ-1166 operation, but with the extra time it gave him to research his own projects, meet his own goals.
I took these goons for granted; thought money was enough to keep them silent until I was ready to deal with them.
“You think anyone is going to listen to you two jailbirds?”
“When we tell ‘em how Petey and me bring those dudes into your lab alive, and when you’re through with them, they’re dead, how do you think that‘ll sit? Yeah, I think they’ll listen … even if we are two jailbirds.”
How did I let these lowlifes corner me? This changes everything.
“Are those cards good enough, Doc?”
Ethan sat up, ignored the question and closed his fingers around the steering wheel.
“Hey, boss man; don’t forget to stop at the whorehouse so we can get the truck.” Rocky sneered at him. “You know where that is, don’t ya?”
“Why did you have to bring attention to yourselves?” Ethan turned the key in the ignition and the engine caught.
Pete piped in, “The whore was dressed in a nurse’s getup. Made Rocky think of Mazzio … the new nurse. He don’t like her.”
“So that’s a reason to beat this woman beyond recognition?”
The edge of a smile tugged at Rocky’s lips. “Reason enough, far as I’m concerned.”
Chapter 28
David Zelint’s phone vibrated in his pants pocket, startling him. He didn’t like these meetings; it was all he could do to sit still in his seat and listen to the same questions being tossed at him time after time.
He looked around the conference table at his brother and the three other board members to see if any of them had heard the distracting buzz. No one even looked his way. He slid out his smartphone, checked the screen, saw it was a call from Ethan Dayton.
What now?
It seemed as though he’d been on the phone with that man every single day. Right now Dayton was the last person he wanted to hear from. David had made it clear that he wanted no part of the Comstock operation. That was their agreement. Dealing with the FDA, their manufacturing facility, and the processing of Zelint’s final data of AZ-1166 was difficult enough. But Dayton wouldn’t let him be. David slid the phone back into his pocket.
Well, he’ll just have to wait.
“David, for the umpteenth time, when is the FDA going to look at our stats?” Saul’s words sounded impatient, but his brother’s face was simply benign and questioning.
“They’re supposed to be going over them in the next few days. After that, they’ll decide if we can go to market.”
Two of the other board members wore distrustful expressions; a third shifted nervously in his seat.
What are they worried about? I’m the one who’s neck-high in strategic manipulations to make everything gel.
“What’s taking the FDA so long to review our data?” Saul said, placing a hand on his arm. “I don’t get it—how many companies are as far along as we are? Can’t they see this is a miracle drug?”
“You’d be surprised
,” David said. “There are more companies than you can imagine trying to be the first one off the mark. Every company involved in this kind of R & D is hoping for its own AZ-1166. It will probably be the drug of the century. It’s not only great for humanity, but the amount of money that can be made is off the charts.”
“Speaking of marks,” one of the board members said, “how are our current Good Manufacturing Practices? Will the plants meet the quality standards?”
Again and again and again.
“Oh, come on!” David said. “The FDA has been all over our operations with a fine tooth comb—you can be sure our cGMPs are A-One. Do you really think at this late stage we would allow ourselves to trip over that kind of nonsense?”
Saul smiled. “He’s only asking what has to be asked, David.”
“I guess you’re right. And I hope you’ll forgive me if I get miffed when I have to repeat the same information at every meeting since we started our clinical trials.
“Questions about our current good manufacturing practices is coming a little late in the game. cGMPs are pretty basic and I’ve answered these same questions too many times not to be a little teed off. I’ve been working with AZ-1166 from its inception; I have too many years into this to make those kinds of slipups.”
David took a long sip of water. “Do you think I don’t know that we’ve been sinking all of our money into this … that it’s win or lose for Zelint? Everyone at this table knows that.”
“What if the FDA doesn’t look favorably on AZ-1166?” another board member said.
“You already know the answer to that. But I’m betting that won’t happen,” David said. “In fact, I’m hoping they’ll agree that our drug is so effective, they’ll go along with our stopping the clinical trials immediately and give AZ-1166 to all participants—even the ones who have been on placebos. After that, we should be out in the market in a year ... or less.”
* * *
David paced back and forth behind his desk. He was so agitated he could barely put his thoughts together.
