by Lane Hart
When my phone starts ringing again, I curse as I pull it free from my pocket, already knowing who it will be.
“Agent Graves?” I answer.
“What’s your status, Burroughs?” my superior asks gruffly.
Shit. Of course he knows I’ve lied about my name since Brede and I look alike. There’s no explaining that away. I’m so fucked, but all I can do is try to throw them off.
“Still in pursuit. I think he took her up into Virginia.”
“You think?” he snaps.
“Yes, sir. I’m stopping at hotels on the way, asking if they’ve…well, seen someone like me or a girl fitting Blair’s description.”
“I want another update by the end of the day. You shouldn’t have left since you have a clear conflict that you neglected to tell me about.”
“Yes, sir. I thought it was best to stay on him…”
“Your brother killed one of the DA’s top drug dealers. Roger Lemons won’t be missed by any of us, but he’s still dead. Therefore, your brother is a wanted man. Find him and call it in soon or we’ll issue the manhunt to the press.”
“Yes, sir. I understand,” I tell him, grinding my teeth together until he disconnects the call.
He’s right, there is a conflict, but Roger deserved to die, and I can’t let Brede take the fall for it. I’m not sure what I’m gonna do, so fucking torn between doing what’s required of me as an agent or protecting my brother at any cost. My head feels like it’s splitting in half, as I grab the sides of it and try to hold it together. I’m dizzy and disoriented, caught up in an angry maelstrom. It’s nearly impossible to process all that’s happened over the past few days, my past catching up with me, altering my entire existence.
Without a doubt, I’m confident that there’s no way I can turn Brede over to the feds. He’s my brother, and I refuse to let him wind up in prison like our father. Blair would hate me, and Brede would never forgive me. Even though he’s a certifiable serial killer, putting him behind bars is not the future I want for him after all these shitty years apart. It’s just depressing to think that with every second I’m here, helping him, I’m hurting our father by burning bridges behind us.
I want all four of us to be a family like we were supposed to be, with dad out of prison, Brede no longer killing people, and Blair happy, laughing like the young, innocent girl she should be. I would give anything for us to do regular family things, like backyard barbecues, Thanksgiving dinners, spending Christmas and holidays together. A part of me worries that I’m fooling myself, wanting something I can never have, but I won’t know unless I try.
“Why the fuck didn’t you wake me?” Brede grumbles as he sits up on the side of the bed, scrubbing a hand over his face.
“Sorry, I just woke up. We need to go.”
He jumps to his feet, glancing around the room, “Where’s Blair?”
“Bathroom.”
“Fuck,” he mutters, sitting back down and rubbing the five o’clock shadow over his jaw. “I thought she ran again.”
“She’s taking a bath.”
He jumps to his feet again. “Then I need to be in there too. Blair and baths are fucking great.”
“Door’s locked,” I tell him when he’s halfway to the bathroom.
“Shit,” he grumbles. “And I’ve gotta take a piss.”
That makes two of us.
“Blair, baby, unlock the door,” he says, banging a fist in the center of it.
Seconds later, the door opens, and then all I hear is Brede’s growl and Blair’s giggle as he apparently busts inside and attacks her. She doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, a few minutes later, it’s Brede I hear putting on the brakes by saying, “Stop trying to fuck me. You don’t get my cock again until your pussy heals.” Blair’s response is too soft for me to hear before Brede chuckles and says, “I love hearing filthy words come out of your sexy little mouth.” The wet sounds of them kissing fills the room until Brede tells Blair, “Now go torture Aden while I shower.”
Yes, please torture Aden is my first thought, then quickly followed up with no, I shouldn’t lay a finger on her because once I do, it’s likely I’ll start to drown in the tidal wave of lust I have for her, and my restraint will go out the fucking window. Or do I just not trust myself not to hurt her for payback? No, she wasn’t guilty of what went down ten years ago, but she had plenty of years to do something...
Maybe I just want to blame someone for my fucked up history, and she happens to be the closest person. And my brother, who luckily had a decent family. Therefore, I shouldn’t feel guilty for taking Blair from him to occasionally play with. It’s not like I’m gonna fuck her again. And Brede said we could share, although I know he doesn’t really want to. He just feels guilty for getting the good life while mine was hell on Earth. It’s not his fault either, of course, I know that, but it makes it a little easier to accept his offer. The fact that Blair’s somewhat frightened of me also ramps up my arousal.
“Hey,” Blair says when she walks cautiously into the room. Still naked, her long hair is damp, tied up on top of her head in a messy knot. She reaches up shyly to push a falling tendril behind her ear. Fucking hell. She could tempt a holy man to sin, and I’m definitely not righteous. The sight of her tits swaying causes my cock to instantly tent my boxers, the only article of clothing I’m wearing.
“Hey,” I reply, holding my arms out for her to step into them. When she hesitates, it’s like a swift kick to my nuts.
“I won’t hurt you,” I assure her. It’s true, even though I want to. Brede would kill me, and I don’t want to upset him.
“I know you won’t, but aren’t you afraid I might touch you?” she asks, lowering her eyes. Oh, she’s worried about making me uncomfortable. After how I treated her, her concern is surprising and…sweet.
“Don’t worry, just come here, please?” I tell her, motioning to her again with my hand.
She nods, closing the distance between us. When she’s within reach, I grab her hips, pulling her against me and causing her to release a startled gasp that I take sick pleasure in. Her hands hover over my shoulders before she raises them to her hair and arches her back so that her breasts glide up and down my chest just once. “That’s the type of touch I don’t mind,” I tell her encouragingly.
“So my body can touch you, just not my hands?” she asks.
“Yes,” I answer, sliding my palms up her sides until I’m cupping her perky tits. Leaning forward I swipe my tongue over her nipple, flicking it back and forth and all around until her elbows start to lower. “Keep your hands in your hair,” I warn her. She does as I ask, threading her fingers to lock them together. “Stay like that, and maybe I won’t need to tie them.”
“I don’t mind when they’re tied,” she answers with a smile.
“I know, but I do. We should only do that for your kink, not because I’m…” What? Damaged? Fucked up? Demented?
“Need to feel in control?” she asks.
“Yes,” I reply, wondering if Brede explained my past to her.
Not wanting to talk anymore or think about that depressing shit, I continue with this experiment, keeping my mouth full of her titty until my cock is so painfully hard that it desperately needs some attention too.
“Kneel,” I order her. “But keep your hands where they are.”
Blair goes right down to her knees in front of where I’m sitting on the edge of the mattress, and I think I could really get used to giving commands and watching how eagerly she follows them. When she licks her lips like she expects me to tell her to suck my cock, I groan aloud. Her mouth is so fucking close…but no, I can’t. Not yet.
Instead, I stand up to shuck my boxers before sitting back down again. Taking my hard cock in my fist, I rub it down between Blair’s breasts, leaving a trail of moisture from the leaking tip. Her lips part on another gasp, and, God, that mouth, seeing it wide open just for me…Fuck!
“Closer,” I tell Blair who scoots forward on her knees until I ca
n easily stroke my cock between her smooth breasts, using my hands to sandwich them tightly around my thick shaft. Fuck, I need to come. My balls ache painfully, needing relief. Having an idea, and willing to try it out, I tell Blair, “Squeeze your tits around my cock.”
“You sure?” she asks.
“Yeah, I wanna see you do it,” I explain.
Slowly she lowers her hands from her hair and then waits for me to remove mine before her own take their place. Oh yeah, I like seeing her cupping her titties with my cock sliding in and out between them.
“Play with your tits,” I instruct her.
She squeezes them a little, as if unsure what to do.
“Tease your nipples,” I order her.
Her fingertips move to the tight buds and then her eyes flutter closed. Her mouth falls open on a moan of pleasure, making my cock drip with even more precum. Fuck, I’m close.
“Feel good?” I ask, my breaths becoming shallow as I keep pumping my hips, thrusting my dick between her breasts while reaching down to fondle my sac. A jolt of ecstasy shoots down my spine when my balls pull up tight against my body.
“Y-yes,” Blair replies, her body rocking forward and back in tandem with my movements. When her tongue darts out, wetting her lips again, I choke out a groan and nearly come. I need to get off so bad it hurts.
“Open your mouth wide,” I practically growl at her as my release builds. Blair quickly complies; and on the very next upstroke of my hips, I let the fat head of my cock brush the tip of her warm, wet tongue.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” I shout when my entire body shudders in bliss from that one small touch. I brace both my palms on either side of me, gripping the sheets as I thrust my dick up to her mouth again.
“Uh!” I groan, my head thrown back as my thighs tremble, all the muscles in my body tightly coiled with need.
Again, and again, I drive upward between her titties faster and faster seeking the blissful slide of her wet tongue on the underside of my cock.
“Uh! Uh! Uh!” I grunt through my clenched teeth with each pump, the pressure of my building orgasm nearly painful. My hips start lifting my ass clear off the bed, desperate to get to her incredible mouth.
Blair doesn’t help me control myself. She sticks her tongue out farther so more of that perfect wetness laps at my swollen shaft with each pass. The urge to stand up, grab her head with both hands and fuck her mouth is so strong I nearly give in. But then I remember all the times I was the one on the floor, hands in my hair, having my mouth fucked while I gagged and tried to push him away. Blair deserves better than that. She’s a brave, beautiful girl, because she fought back with Roger when I was a coward who never did. Because I’m a depraved asshole, one who enjoyed the quid pro quo I knew I would eventually get at the expense of my foster brother or sister. That’s mostly why I hated my foster father, because he molded us into his little perverts to the point that we had sex with each other even when he wasn’t around to watch or direct us. Then, it was how I earned money for food and shelter the first few days after I ran away.
“Fuck!” I shout, jumping to my feet and crossing the room where my right fist meets the wall.
The bathroom door crashes open. “What the hell was that?” Brede asks, dripping wet with a towel wrapped around his hips as he looks back and forth between me and Blair, who is still on her knees.
“Sorry,” I say to him or to her, maybe both.
“You okay?” he walks over and asks Blair, helping her to her feet. I don’t hear her response. I’m too busy trying to block the disgusting images of my past from my head as I escape into the now empty bathroom.
…
Brede
“Tell me what happened,” I order Blair as I pull her to her feet. When she doesn’t say anything, I nearly yell out in frustration at her silence after my brother’s fist just plowed into the hotel wall. If she stops talking to me again, I’ll lose my shit.
“I…I don’t know,” she eventually answers once Aden storms into the bathroom and shuts the door. “We were…and he was…then he just suddenly jumped out like I did something wrong.”
“What were you doing?” I ask, equal parts curious and jealous. Not that I have any reason to be jealous. It’s my own damn fault for urging her to fool around with him. I’m such a fucking idiot.
“Um, I guess you could say it was almost a blowjob,” she replies.
“Almost?” I ask with an eyebrow arched skeptically.
“I wasn’t touching him, but my breasts were, and then he let his…tip graze my tongue. I thought he liked it, but I guess not.”
“Don’t worry, baby,” I tell her, wrapping my arms around her. “I promise it’s not you. Just…be patient with him.”
“You sure you don’t mind?” she asks, winding her arms around my waist.
“Of course, I mind,” I tell her. Even now, after I was the one suggesting she seduce him, I want to yank my brother up by his neck and punch him in the face.
“But you said…”
“I know,” I grumble, my fingers yanking on a handful of my own hair. “Don’t worry about me. I can handle it. He deserves something…good in his life. Someone like you,” I tell Blair, relaxing a smidge when I brush my lips over her temple.
“Someone like me?” she exclaims, pulling away from me. “I’m the whole reason his life was shit!”
“No, you’re not,” I tell her back as she wanders aimlessly around the room. “What are you looking for?”
“My clothes,” she replies.
Heading back into the bathroom, Aden’s in the shower when I snatch up my clothes and the dress and panties Blair was wearing yesterday.
“You okay?” I call out to my brother.
“Yeah, fine,” he mutters, sounding the opposite.
“Here, baby,” I tell Blair when I walk back into the hotel room, offering her the clothing. “We need to find us all a change of clothes. Maybe Aden can run out after his shower.”
“Yeah, thanks,” she says, her eyes lowered, sounding about as chipper as Aden. These two are making me look like a pocket full of sunshine this morning.
“You hungry? Thirsty?” I ask.
“I’m starving,” she answers after slipping her dress on.
“Me too. Whatcha want?”
“Burger and fries. Maybe a milkshake, like the birthday cake kind I’ve seen on the commercials for Zaxby’s,” she says, sounding livelier now that we’re talking about food.
“We’ll see what we can do,” I promise her.
“I miss cake. My mom would make me a three-layer chocolate birthday cake every year for my birthday. They only served some sort of sponge cake every few weeks at the hospital, and it was dry and nasty like pretty much all the other food.”
“Sounds like prison,” I joke, and then belatedly realize that was the wrong thing to say when Blair lowers her eyes again and then goes over to curl up in the hotel chair, her arms wound protectively around her legs. She looks like the broken angel on my arm again, and I automatically know she’s withdrawing into herself again because of her misplaced guilt. Between her and my brother hiding out in the bathroom, these two are a fucking handful.
I get dressed and pace around the room while I wait for Aden to finish up his shower, too antsy to sit down. My empty fists clench at my side. God, I need a cigarette so bad I could claw my tired eyeballs out.
Finally, my brother emerges from the steamy bathroom.
“You gonna find us a car?” I ask him. “We need to move.”
“Yeah, I’m on it,” he says.
“Could you also get us a change of clothes?”
“Sure, and the pharmacy. I’m the errand boy, catering to your every need,” he grumbles. Of course, he’s intent on going to get Blair the morning after pill or whatever.
Pulling his suit jacket back on over his wrinkled dress shirt, he covers the gun in the back of the pants that I didn’t even notice yesterday until he pulled it on those cops. Who would’ve thought that m
y brother and I would both end up packing heat despite our two different upbringings? There’s a big difference between him and me, though, because I know without asking that he’s never killed anyone with his gun before. If he had, he probably wouldn’t have any problem with ending his asshole foster father’s life.
“Thanks,” I tell him. “And when you get back, we can grab food on the way out of town.”
“Right. See you in a few,” he says before he walks out the door.
“Well, he’s a jolly fella,” I say to Blair.
“You two are quite a pair,” she says, her voice so flat that I’m not sure if she's serious or sarcastic.
The room feels stifling hot from the steamy air of the bathroom, so much so that I can barely catch my breath. Heading for the hotel door, I crack it open to inhale some cool, fresh air and to take a look around. There’s nothing but regular looking vehicles in the hotel parking lot. No one standing around, watching our room. So far so good. Maybe I'm paranoid for no reason.
“Where are your cigarettes?” Blair asks from the chair she’s still curled up in.
Shutting and locking the door again, I lean my back against it before I answer her. “I quit, or at least I’m trying to.” I know she hates it. And if she gets pregnant, that’s all the more reason not to be smoking around her.
“Why?” she asks, as if it’s not obvious.
“Because some prissy little girl turned her nose up at it,” I reply with a chuckle. “You didn’t have to use words for me to know you thought they were disgusting.”
“Oh,” she mutters. “Well, thank you.”
“Apparently, they cause cancer and shit too,” I joke. Which unfortunately reminds me of the situation back home that’s anything but funny…
Now that things are settling down, I need to call Jim and Paula and give them a heads-up about what’s going on. Pulling out my phone from my jean pocket, I hit the contact with their name.
“Hey, Brede,” Jim answers, sounding tired.
“Hey, did I catch you at a bad time?” I ask.
“Oh, no, just haven’t been sleeping much,” he says. Of course, he has insomnia. He’s worried about his wife dying so I can see how it would be hard to sleep.
