The Hit Woman's Assassination Handbook

by Jane Brooke

  His face, the color, the ridges, becomes solid, as she falls into his arms whimpering.

  He will have none of that, it is his turn, and though his pain, from his joints, his skin is immense, he twists her onto her back, watching as her stomach falls, rises, as she extends her arms as she seethes. “Fuck me, please.”

  She has reverted, back to an animal. It is all she knows.

  He loves her now; he understands how primitive she is. He smiles, not a weak mans smile now, but a soldiers smile. She is a hoodlum beast, knowing no boundaries. She is about to know that he is too.

  He is powerful. She feels it as he handles her so easily.

  He lifts, lifts her, she entwines her arms around his neck, tries to kiss him. He does not want that now, for the blood is pounding in his temples, his cock. He is thinking like her now.

  She is a white string, constructed of practically no matter. He turns her, organizing her knees on the blanket, her palms pressed to the woven fabric, nonsense blabbering from her bleeding lips. She has bitten them, again as she presses her chin down, near her breasts.

  He guides the tip of his penis, to her vagina. Liquids are spilling down her thighs. His mind roams, he feels insane with lust. His eyes stare at her butt, raised, back bent, her mouth moaning some kind of nonsense.

  He can not wait. He is consumed with her.

  He rams his cock into her vagina. Her head flays back as a gush of air blasts out of her lungs as she screams. “FUCK, YES.”

  Fingers wrapped around her hips, he savagely fucks her as she meets each thrust of his, with moans, and violent push backs of her own.

  She is saying something, in another language. He finds an instant for a smile, it vanishes as he feels the blood loading up into his penis. Through a groan, she feels it, whips her head back, eyes bomb blasts, somehow she says the words. “Yes, te...t...Tell me wh...when...I have to ha...ve...i...it...I...”

  Her body goes rigid, she bows her head, lifts it, as she screams as she ORGASMS.

  She simply goes insane, laughing, weeping and groaning as he lunges forward, deep, as she drives back into him. For some time, he does not stop, bringing her over and over to Climax.

  Then, one last time, he lunges forward, stops, tenses. She hears his groans. She screams again, as he says. “NOW.”

  She lunges forward, twists around, leers at him.

  He is on his knees, his cock massive as she leaps forward, ensnares her fingers around it and drives her face forward. Her mouth opens as she crashes her mouth, lips around his cock, feels it expanding.

  It is hot, as she drives it down her throat. His body spasms, he grabs the back of her head, pumps his cock deep, deeper still, her cheeks expanding, her throat expanding, as he screams as he ORGASMS deep down her throat, goes rigid as he then becomes frozen.

  Every drop, of him, his genius, his semen, she swallows, adores, as she feels the warmth of it billow in her stomach. He is done as he cannot support himself any longer.

  With her hands, she guides his penis from her mouth, saliva, his semen, slightly touching her lips. She takes his hands, lowers him to the rug, sweat consumes them as she cannot take her eyes off of the sweat beading on the colors of his skin.

  The flames of the fire, dance everywhere. She feels satiated, lowers her body, lays along side of him, feels his breathing, it is coarse, rough. She spoons him with her leg, lays her arms along his body and presses her face into the cleft of his neck.

  They lay in each others arms.

  She reaches out, covers their bodies with the blanket. She is silent, as is he.

  For both of them, life has begun, and for one of them, perhaps ending within the same moment and though the moment was now, neither could ask for more.

  Birth begins all matters of life and death steals it away.

  Both would perhaps learn that soon.

  Night Vanishes

  THERE WAS no time, nor night, nor was there day inside the sphere of the cave pools. There was only passion, care and marvel of their new world.

  Though she could neither feel morning, nor night, some how he could. When she woke near the still blazing fire she found him in his cape, near a small burner set upon a low table close to the stone floor. Inhaling the aromatic fragrance of a Cinnamon herb tea, she, still barely awake felt as if a bouquet of flowers were etiolating around her face.

  She stood naked, her cape covering her her body.

  She moved to him, knelt, cleared the hair from his face and, then cupping his face she kissed him gently. He smiled, felt his body shudder and closed his eyes.

  She thought that she understood, sat back on her rump and through time they sat silent, sipping tea, eating honey, wild bread with fruit as they gorged themselves for they were satiated from their appetite for one another. As sexual time passed, they needed replenishment to continue the sexual hurricane they were in the center eye of.

  Unable, unwilling to stop, they had then, like great rams, crashed their bodies and minds together, exhausting themselves, connecting themselves, each giving the other pleasures either had ever dreamed were possible. Through the first day, he read to her as he sat with his back to the cave wall, her face resting in his lap as he petted her and made stories for her and loved her.

  Once, she had woken during the night, her eyes smokey. Turning her head, she heard whispers off near the edge of the pools.

  Some distance away, in awe, she gazed off and had seen him sitting on his haunches, cowl intact, whispering to what she was sure were several Indians. The three men were bare chested and of the three men, none had hair shorter than he.

  For some time she listened to them, though she could not understand their language, for the dialect was odd; one that was foreign to her ears.

  Sleep again pervaded her mind, eyes drooping and she fell to dreams, sweet, illuminating almost hallucinating dreams of the kind she had never dreamed before.

  When she woke again, the Indians were gone, but he was not, lying next to her near the fire holding her, loving her as she loved him.

  His Words

  “DO YOU SEE it? There...Far, distant and within the atmosphere? The journey, voyage into space, traveling within the golden bubble, prayers blasting to God, begging for the water cylinder to stay intact, not to burst, to stay a circle, whole and deliver us into the realm of the black hole. The deep, pitches of shape, where nothing is, nothing was and until our minds arrive, nothing will be, our destiny. We are slaves, purchasing dreams of lust from paper whores, swords flashing, an enemy, mediocrity, computerized worlds of nothing, void souls of rain, chrome, bubbles, baubles, jewels, touted, as gifts that will answer all of our dreams. It is a Ransom, replacing love, and thus platinum, it is.....”

  As he spoke from his mind, she laid on her back, head pressed against his lap, flames from the fire pit washing them with warmth. A woolen blanket was covering her naked body, a great blanket covering his. He spoke from his brain, so she held both of his scared hands in her own, pressing them against her face.

  Opening his eyes, Jason smiles, stares down at her face resting on his lap.

  “There did you like it?” He is proud, though no ego. He just wants to please her.

  He could not control his idiot savant mind, yet, a man in love for the first time does love and he adored the fact that his words gave her so much joy.

  The Rain Man was enjoying himself.

  Lifting from his lap, she plunges into his arms, hugging him fiercely, peppering him with giggles, tears, tiny kisses, along his face, and neck.

  “Your such a show off. What, are you trying to break my heart?”

  He pulls her close, both laugh. He loves her wit, above all her sky high intelligence which he thought not possible from such a beautiful woman, the one he is holding in his arms.

  He smiles, thinks.

/>   When she is not looking, his body is filled with honesty, for he must admit she is the most gorgeous creature he has ever seen. Being a man, not ashamed of it, he kids himself that her stunning sexuality is not a bad thing, not bad at all.

  With the compound closed for the weekend, his brothers off somewhere, there was no reason for any hurry in their sex, talk, exchanging of brain power.

  She forces the thoughts of Bobby Ugo arriving any moment with his big friend from her mind. She really thinks that she is going to stay in the cave pools forever.

  She knows now that she will never part from him again.

  After much nuzzling, smooching, she pushes away from him, clears his face from dripping hair and, then looks deep into his eyes.

  “What are we going to do, Jason?”

  Nodding his head, he smiles.

  “Well, I do not know about you, but I would love to feel my hands wrapped around that body of yours again.” He giggles, gets a cuff on his cheek, a rye smile in return, accompanied by a prankish look.

  “Oh you, you know that’s not what I mean. About us.”

  He grows suddenly serious, dire, darkness seems to grow along his skin.

  “Yes, us. Well, Mandal, I think your safety is paramount. You must get out of here. You have to leave, soon.”

  “Not without you, never. You got room for one more in that barn,” She giggles as he looks at her, so in love with her, yet.

  He touches her face, her swollen eye, shakes his head back and forth, whispers.

  “Listen beautiful, you must understand. My time here will soon be over. This, all of this, with you has been a miracle to me, but, I can’t leave. Do you understand? I know you’re hard headed, but you must listen to me.”

  She feels a knife plunged into her heart.

  She shakes her head in denial, biting her lip. Tears spill down her cheeks, face quivering; those are not words that she can assimilate.

  “Jason, Please. I...I...I can’t leave now. I’d rather die then loose you now. We can leave here, or live here, I don’t care, as long as were together, please. I love you.”

  He swallows and coughs twice, his body shakes as he looks at her with so much love.

  As they sit, graced in the warmth of their skin, blankets, cave drawings, water pools illuminating from the flames, stoking their genius, passion, she does not understand that when it comes to poets, sometimes wishes cannot be granted, must be torn apart as flames, for her, as well as him did so long ago.

  She does not understand any of this, but he does. So he must ferry her to safety, so he lies to her, breaking his heart as he does.

  “Yes, Beauty...Okay...We’ll think of something, come here.”

  He engulfs her in his arms, feeling her body trembling and her skins warmth. His eyes drift to the fire, watching the transformation of the flames, moment to moment.

  Fire is his life lond friend.

  After a moment, she backs away, entwines her fingers into his hair, eyes inches from his. “My love, please make love to me, please.”

  He smiles, feels arousal from the simple notice of her full lips quivering.

  Silent, he lays her back upon the blanket, strips her blanket off, stares at her white, nude, elongated body. Her arms stretch out before him. Her face is crushed with passion and fire light, as he then presses upon her body. Her legs open and he enters her, her spine bends, she moans.

  He knows in his mind that this will be the last time. For he knows now, time is critical for her, as well, as finally for him.

  He is dying, she does not know, but he does.

  As they move like the animals that they are, he understands that one way or another, as his dead body will dissolve into the dirt of the desert, they will vaporize soon from one another. He knows what she does not and that she must vanish from his life, like the death that will take him from her.

  He will make her leave, find safety in the morning, for once again as a soldier he will make the ultimate sacrifice for another that he loves.

  Van Horn Texas

  WHILE The Cox boys were doing big bidness in Corpus Christie, Mava, Art, were fucking like wolves just like two odd balls were doing likewise in a cave in the desert.

  At the same time Bobby Ugo and his troupe were moving out of Amarillo; Van Horn, Texas, near the New Mexico border being their next destination.

  No info, out of Atlantic City, Bobby was edgy, irate, more by the moment. Tony, still wanted to fly in on the Gulf Stream, be there, when, if they found her. The jet furled, he could, in a matter of hours, be anywhere.

  Bobby, switching gears, having celled some important guys back East, was now comforting to his boss, encouraging the pining mobster to now fly in so they could handle his girlfriend with kid gloves. That was, if that was still what The Fat Man wanted.

  His new plan, concerning The Fat Man seemed more doable, filled with wisdom the further he clicks off the miles. He was not certain yet if he would carry out his plan. It all depended on Tony, and if he could be the old Tony, a common sense brutal killer.

  Getting the OK from the gumbas back east, did help the problema, yet, it was still a crap shoot of what his finaly decision would be.

  Corporate takeovers were never easy, Bobby knew that.

  Beginning to hate truck stops, diners, fuel stops, bus stations, he had met a bus driver out of Amarillo.

  The Grey Hound guy, after checking out her pic, thought he had seen a nifty splinter of a blond in a Cadillac. Where, he couldn’t quite remember. He tried to be helpful, tucking the two one hundred dollar bills into his pocket, came up with some ideas where he might have seen her.

  “Maybe over in Solar Ville, or Ft. Stockton, could of been Van Horn, or even a place called Berks Truck Stop. Maybe Ben’s Diesel Emporium on the out skirts of El Paso, still a long way as the crow flies.”

  He was leaning towards Ben’s and Berks, but wasn’t positive.

  For a moment Bobby thought of slucing up Dim Dim up, you know, just to help nudge the driver’s memory. But naw, the guy was over worked, under paid and Bobby knew he had done the best he could.

  After, Bobby, sweat drenching him, had moved to the Chrysler, checked on Dim Dim. He was hungry, but okay.

  After, he text messaged the other crews, telling them to check out the places the driver had mentioned, which were on some of the spread out crews direct line. He then violently rammed his fist into the hood of the car, leaving a dent with in it.

  “Fucking Tony.” He seethed.

  He entered the car, checked on Dim Dim, found him okay, racked the car in gear and gassed her, left rubber ripping down the Texas Highway.

  He was one an angry killer and that was not a good personality trait for anyone that his hatred was aimed at.

  He was, the Grim Reaper from New Jersey, and he wanted to cut her fucking head off with his big pals Grim Reaper Axe.

  Back To Reality

  The Plan

  SO LITTLE time, so little sand left within the hour glass.

  Never far, from one anothers touch, he sits and listens to her plans, her fantastical ideas.

  In his heart he knows there is but one plan left, and that is, the final one.

  He cannot bear to wake her from her passionate thoughts, concerning he and her. This is their single grain of sand on the earth, he understands this. So, through the final night they make love, sweetly, violently, carnally and, then after, they lay together, pressing their skins together.

  When she wakes, they make love again, though it might have been considered another thing it was so filled with their pathos.

  It was time for departure anddecisions, ones he regrets with in the core of his autistic brain are for him, already made. Yet, they must be made.

  It is a decision he does not want, but as a soldier, so long
ago, who rained fire down upon himself to save others, he is now going to do it again.

  Soon, truth, like a horse’s loyalty to its rider will be their guide.

  She knows none of this as they kiss, prepare for the swim below the water jewels and, then back, back to what?

  He does know one thing and that he is prepared for war once again and he will die if need be for her within in that war.

  Shopping With Sue

  AFTER THE two day closure of the bar, along with so many different scenarios, the bar opens, nothing has seemingly changed. Art is in the kitchen, Sue in the Bar, everything clicking on fully firing cylinders, Sue and Mava, thinking different things. Planning, scheming, pining, both are waiting for Billy, Arvan to return; one for sex and love, the other for money and murder.

  Towards evening, Sue, on Billy’s Bike, saddle bags slung on the back, goes to Berks little grocery store, Mavas paper list in her hand, picking up some essentials, until they can get to the Wal Mart in Van Horn. She still is being distracted by her nemesis, the bitch Betty. She forgets several things, returns, suffers Mava’s wrath for her irresponsibility.

  Promising to return, in the morning, Mava blows her off so Sue can get behind the bar, taking care of the growing clientele of bikers, oil men and other filth just arriving.

  Art, in the kitchen, Mava poking around, waiting on the few stragglers left in the café as Sue is doing her thing in the bar.

  The entire cast is in place.

  Though no one knows how the script will read in the play they are acting in, Mandal the director of the cast is no where to be seen.

  From outside, Arvan’s truck, loud, rumbling, roars into the compound. From around the corner, Mava peeks at the boys, piling out of the truck. Exhaling angst, grief, she watches as Billy, backpack bulging, relays something to Arvan, who nods, turns to the pickup, drags two Auto Zone bags out of the back.