5PM

by Chris Heinicke

  “But it’s okay now, Terry. After I have my way with you, you’ll get to join her, Roger and Phelps. And once I’m done with you, I’ll put a bullet in Talissa’s head, too. You don’t think I saw her sitting there in the back of the cop car next to that tall blonde skank?”

  “You’ve had this all planned for a long time, haven’t you?”

  Kate smiles and nods.

  “So why didn’t you just kill me? You had so many opportunities over the years,” I say to her.

  “I’ve been saving myself for you, plus I had to make you suffer. I had to make you think you had done the worst thing ever to your wife by sleeping with three other women. Sleeping with a fourth wasn’t part of the plan but worked out well, anyway.”

  “But why? Knowing Talissa was a retired part of a hit squad, why did you need to have them slip me drugs that would make me so horny, I would easily fall to the demands of my dick?”

  “To make you suffer from the guilt, to torment your mind, and then once you turned Emily down, it was time to strike. It got you fired from your job and caused further anguish when you had to tell your wife. Like I said, it had to be slow to make you suffer, and I intend to make you suffer a little bit more…” she aims the gun low, “by shooting the part of you which caused so much trouble—after you put it in me first, of course.”

  I close my eyes. “Look at me. How do you expect me to perform in my condition?”

  Kate takes a hand away from her pistol to dig through a skirt pocket. Pulling out a coin purse not unlike the one Emily had, she smiles. “You’re familiar with the first pill Emily gave you? Once you take one and I undress, I just need you to lay there while I do what I want with your cock.”

  “Did you kill Phelps?” I try to change the subject while she pulls a pill from the little purse.

  Kate shakes her head. “Emily’s work. My only demand was that I would be the one to kill YOU!”

  “And it’s quite a clever plan. I’m impressed. But there’s something you need to know. I wanted you, Kate. In fact, I think I always have—ever since I saw your sweet, innocent face look at me pumping your sister. I’ve been hiding it for so long, but in truth, I’ve always wanted to bend you over your desk and smack that big ass of yours and fuck you from behind until you scream my name. You’ve been giving me those signals for years, and I can’t believe it’s taken us this long to act on our urges.”

  She bends down and holds the pill above my face. “Open your mouth.”

  I obey, and it falls to the back of my parched throat and I gulp it down. I try not to cough as it travels down my throat like an indigestible rock. The results almost instantaneous, I feel a stirring inside my pants while my body’s tired waves begin to dissipate.

  “Come on, Kate. Let’s get this show on the road and allow me to treat you like the naughty girl you have hidden inside you. I can help release the real you, turn you into the goddess you want to be. I want to be inside you, filling you with my big, hard love gun while I fill my hands with those big fucking tits of yours. Hurry up and rip your skirt off, Kate, and your shirt, too. I’m injured so I don’t know how long this burst of energy will last.”

  “Don’t you get any ideas of getting away from me. Be thankful you get to go out fucking,” she says as she starts to unbutton her blouse with one hand.

  I unbutton my shirt, an almost mirror image of her actions as she stares straight at me, the look on her face blank. Her hands move as if she’s in a trance. My body aches, and although the bleeding is slow from both wounds, I feel the stickiness of my own blood as I move my good arm.

  Both my shirt and hers are fully unbuttoned, and she moves her weapon from one hand to the other as she drops her shirt over each arm at a time. Her black bra designed for practical use rather than visual appeal does a great job of supporting the twins that are sized in proportion to her body.

  If someone would have told me two weeks ago, I’d be having sex with the frumpy red head from work, I would have died of laughter. She’s let her guard down by wanting to have sex with me, and if she gets down here where I’m hiding, I might have a chance to wrestle the gun from her. With my limited strength only slightly revitalised, I pull my trousers down to my knees. The pill’s effects already kick in, the excitement building inside my jocks as she releases her skirt from her hips and stands in front of me in her matching underwear.

  The air remains silent. No one else is around and the salvation of blaring sirens still can’t be heard. It’s up to me and me alone, broken and sore. And if I’m going to go, it will be with a bang. Still looking up at Kate, I see her bra fall down her arms, and those big saggy breasts stare at me in their full pale glory.

  “Take your underwear down, too,” Kate says, her pistol still shaking as it points at my manhood.

  Kate may not be that attractive, but she’s still female and she’s near naked and the almost magical qualities of the pill seem to have fully kicked in. As I pull my jocks down to my knees, my excitement is fully exposed to her prying eyes. I was right—she has always wanted me. The eyes don’t lie, and the hunger I see in hers could consume me in one bite.

  She steps down into the opened trapdoor, standing in just her panties and heels next to my wounded leg. Putting her hand on one hip, she pushes down the side of her panties while that damn pistol is still held in her other hand. Swapping hands and pushing on the other side of her panties, Kate soon has herself on full display to me and lets those big black panties fall down to her ankles. She steps out of them and walks to my hips, placing a leg on either side of me, and then gets down to her knees.

  Her hand reaches down and grabs my hard member, guiding it inside of her as she lowers herself to my crotch. I close my eyes and picture Hannah straddling me, which should feel wrong given I’m still legally married to Talissa. I feel the tight wetness and there’s no denying how good the virgin tightness of Kate feels. She bounces up and down quickly, and as I move my good hand, my finger feels around and I rub her gently, which she responds to with a deep moan. I’ve been told before I must have a compass in my finger, and the way Kate moans louder with each bounce and rub, I know I have her getting close to the edge.

  Opening my eyes, I see she has her head tilted back, her spine arched, and those huge tits look as if they’ll hit me in the face. The gun is no longer pointed directly at me, and I know if I’m going to make a move, it needs to be now. She starts to scream and her head tilts down as she looks into my eyes. Her body’s shaking, and I can feel myself about to shoot my load into her when she presses the gun to my forehead. She stops and parks herself while still on top of me.

  “Fuck, that was good, but now it’s time,” she says and pulls her finger back on the trigger. “I’m the true personification of the praying mantiss.”

  I don’t care. Her tight vagina feels cosy and if I die, then what better place to be? “Do it, please, baby,” the words come out of my mouth as I reach my own climax. The energy I felt returning to my body after I took the pill begins to drain already.

  She smiles at me, and I return a matched expression, a euphoria that dabbles in a mixture of sexual satisfaction and being so close to the end of my life. A thundering gunshot fills the confined space of the bedroom, and the world goes black.

  Chapter 12

  5 Years Later

  There are still times when I shut my eyes and think of that day five years ago when my brother, father, and two of the women I had sex with in that crazy week all lost their lives, and my wife was arrested for murder. The ambulance did eventually arrive for me, but due to my body going into shock, I missed everything in between climaxing inside Kate and waking up two days later in a hospital with my mother, sister, children, and Detective Hannah Hall watching as I open my eyes. My sister had been hit by a bullet in the shoulder that day and passed out for some time, and when she woke, she grabbed a shotgun and blew Kate’s head off her shoulders once she eventually found where I was.

  Talissa had been charged with twenty-one
counts of first-degree murder, enough to sentence her to death by lethal injection. But due to her being pregnant, another outcome of that crazy week, her sentence had been reduced to life imprisonment. She had a baby girl, who was placed into my care at seven days of age.

  Talissa gave me naming rights, and I went with the name Sarah. I take the kids to see their mother once a month, and although we are civil with each other, we agreed to a divorce. But she wasn’t the only woman I impregnated that week.

  In a weird turn of events, the sweet detective Hannah and I became a romantic item a few weeks after I had been released from the hospital. We welcomed our son Ryan into the world a few days after Talissa gave birth to Sarah. We haven’t married yet, but that suits us fine as we live happily in a log cabin far away from the bustling city life we used to endure. When I had been discharged from the hospital after that day five years ago, she told me she hadn’t been a regular cop for some time, but ironically, worked undercover as one to investigate Ed’s possible involvement in the deadly Praying Mantassassins organisation. Cleverly, she tricked Ed into believing she wanted to get into the squad too, but intentionally, left clues that she alone had been investigating them, so she knew he would betray her on the day they stormed the farm.

  As for the Phelps Brothers Real Estate Empire, they went into involuntary dissolution, and as the sole surviving employee at the branch, Geoff soon found himself out of work. Good for him, I started my own real estate business and asked him to be a partner. Part of our new approach to real estate is to get in and help the sellers as best as we can by lending money to them to renovate their homes, which they can pay back interest free when we sell their property. We also source quality tradesmen to do any of the jobs required to help improve the property for a quick and profitable sale. Our business does very well for itself and we donate ten percent of our net profits to help fund local schools and the women and children’s hospital. It’s the least I can do to make me feel like I’m giving back after many years of being a ruthless agent and for what I did to Kate’s sister many years ago.

  Hannah did a lot of digging on the members of the Praying Mantassassins and found their real names and backgrounds, and matched up many unsolved murders with some help from DNA samples taken from the bodies of Emily, Lauren, and Ed. But even with the fear there are more out there, the financier of the team hired to go after me is dead. Brittany didn’t fare as well as Talissa and remains on death row for her involvement in multiple homicides

  Hannah even dug up what she could on Kate, which although wasn’t a lot, it brought a hard truth home to me. Before I worked for Phelps, I met a woman in a club one night who took me home to her place for a night of passion. It turned out she worked for the city’s biggest property developer and just one property owner stood between the developer and the multi-million dollar project. She asked me to entice the owner, Leonie, to sell to a particular buyer who had registered through Phelps Real Estate to find them a quaint little country cottage. Leonie didn’t know the buyer had been put in as a decoy in order to move the property from them to the developer. So they sold at a much cheaper price than the developer had offered to buy the place to demolish it—also thanks to her alcohol and cocaine-induced state.

  Kate took it really hard when her sister committed suicide, which is completely understandable. She never dated and rarely went out. Upon inspection of her computer, records found a string of notes typed up with names and methods to kill said people, as well as short stories of working as an assassin for hire. She also kept an online journal, which confirmed that she fantasised about joining a well-known killer for hire organisation. She knew her looks and lack of sexual experience would keep her from ever becoming one of them. Her chat history also brought up her strange conversations on 3DDreamchat and threats of murder to multiple chat users, but none of them had been killed in real life.

  She also had a number of prescription medicine bottles in her premises, including anti-depressants, uppers, and downers. And unlike the assumed stereotype given to women who live alone, she didn’t own a single cat. Overall, the knowledge of her uninspired existence saddened me, but realistically, I couldn’t have done a thing to help her.

  Out here, we have everything we need, and the children of our blended family have been given the chance to grow close to nature. There’s a great fishing lake a couple hundred metres down a hiking track, and forests of pine trees as tall as city skyscrapers surround our home. The snowfalls during winter make this place we call home a photographer’s dream, but we get to live it. We have electricity and running water, but no internet and mobile phone coverage, and we intend to keep it that way. The landline phone is sufficient to keep us in touch with those we want to stay in touch with, and we have two phone lines just in case Hannah needs to be contacted by the precinct where she now works.

  Love and laughter flow through our home, and Isaac and Matilda have taken to Hannah really well, along with their new brother and sister. But if I thought having a sex life was hard when I was with Talissa and having two kids, double the kids have really pushed the challenge to a new level. Saying that though, we get to do it two to three times a week, and, for the most part, it is still incredible.

  Life is good.

  I walk to the mailbox. Today I’m working from home while co-ordinating a new property development for a company who works with one hundred percent clean energy. Yes, I’ve become a Mr Do Right, but I can sleep at night now, and my sex addiction has been curbed, thanks to the monthly meetings I still attend.

  Opening the hatch to the mailbox, I see a number of envelopes, junk mail, and a postcard. One envelope looks suspiciously like a power bill, another one an opportunity to purchase raffle tickets to win a mansion in a city I don’t want to live in, and a letter addressed to Isaac from a pen pal. The junk mail goes straight to the recycling bin, and then I stare at the postcard. The front of it a full-colour photo of a band playing to a small crowd with writing at the bottom saying, ‘Greetings from House of Blues, Las Vegas.’ I can’t think of anyone I know who lives or is visiting Las Vegas, so I flip the card over to read who it might be from.

  My head spins and my stomach feels as though it is rising to my throat as I read the words.

  Miss me, Terry?

  Love, BluesGirl xxx.

  THE END

  Acknowledgements

  Writing has been a labour of love for me for some years now, a passion that started in school, but went into hibernation until a few years ago. The journey to get my first book completed and out into the world has been long, but the love of my good wife Glenda, as well as her support, has been a big factor in getting me to this point. I also thank Glenda for the three beautiful children we have made together—Ethan, Krystal, and Siobhan.

  As great parents often do, my mother and father, Barbara and Noel Heinicke, have been a great support, as well as my sister Rachel, who’s always encouraged me to persue my dreams.

  This book wouldn’t have been what it is without the editing skills of Rogena Mitchell Jones, a lady who has managed to fix my jumbled words, but leave my writing voice intact. Thanks Rogena. I can’t wait to work with you again.

  The cover is a combination of a stock photo taken by my photographer friend Mark Holzigal and a designer by the name of Rebecca Berto. Thanks so much for the beautiful work you have both contributed to my book’s eye—a catching cover.

  Two ladies have helped out in a big way in reading the early drafts of this story, their feedback invaluable and should they now read this copy, may notice a few changes. Thank-you to both Bianca Lloyd and Leesa Barrell. And there’s been a great guy who has followed and cheered on my progress for a long time now, so much so, I named my main character after him—Cooper DMselector. Thanks for your support, my friend.

  Along my journey, I’ve made many online friends through Facebook writing groups, some of them successful authors. They’ve always been there to offer advice, answer questions, and help cheer me on and even help
promote me. Thank-you to Laura, Lili, Jacinta, Hayley, Stephen, Greg, Jenn, Melissa, Carol, Dawn, David, Fiona, Jen, Jan, Kate, Rebecca, Earl, and Bryan. Sorry if I’ve left anyone out—it’s not intentional.

  And then last, but certainly not least, I have so many regular friends and relatives to thank for their encouragement. There are too many to mention by name, but if you’re reading this and you know me in real life, then you’re most probably one of them.

  Thank you once again, everyone. I hope you’ve enjoyed my book and will read my upcoming works, too.

  About the Author

  Chris was born in the town of Port Pire, South Australia in a non-disclosed year. Growing up in a family who moved a lot, Chris was able to see a lot of Australia as a child and teenager, meeting a wide variety of people. Although working as a baker, writing has been a passion for some time, starting in high school and reigniting again in 2006. Since then, he has worked on the first part of a science fiction series, which is slated for a 2015 release, as well as a short story, which culminated into a 2014 NaNoWriMo project called 5PM.

  Apart from writing, Chris enjoys travelling, reading, and watching movies. He resides in the New South Wales beachside town of Coffs Harbour with his wife and three children.