by Jane Brooke
Title Page
JANE, VEGAS PI
By
Jane Brooke
Publisher Information
Jane, Vegas PI
Published in 2013 by Andrews UK Limited
www.andrewsuk.com
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
The characters and situations in this book are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.
Copyright © Jane Brooke 2013
The right of Jane Brooke to be identified as author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988.
An Angel Gone Missing
BURNING skies and melting asphalt, frying eggs on the black tar, holocaust of fired Santa Anna winds terrorizing in from the dead city of L.A. It’s all sweltering reminders that someone fucked up, zoned out and planted a city in a dead desert, sweat, thermal, organic, hot, it’s always fucking hot in N. Vegas, my home.
I’m Jane, Vegas PI/Bounty Hunter.
I am a tall, 5-11 string bean aqua eyed blond bi-sexual savage, Ex British glam girl, IQ, well off the charts. I’m told I’m a doll, but beauty has never interested me, it’s so vapid, so temporary. Like a lot of birds, I use my beauty like I use my Mossberg shot gun, and my variety of hand guns. I’m also a mistress of several black belts, karate, judo, you know all the stuff a girl PI needs in a dangerous world.
Beauty well put my face in a leaf mulcher and a pencil in my mouth and set me down in a wheel chair in front of my Apple machine, good enough for moi. Though I adore girls, from time to time, when the moment is right, I will fuck a guy. In real time, I have these faded light scars on my face. It was a strange time for me. I had lost focus on a takedown and some bad ass guy did that to me.
At the time I needed that for an attitude adjustment.
I can’t live without the sweetness and softness of a girl’s lips.
“I kissed a girl and I liked it. The taste of her Cherry Chap Stick.” Katy Perry is the bump, just adore her.
Anyhoo, I live a film noir/retro life, got great digs in dangerous N. Vegas, loft kinda deal. It’s plopped above Chang’s Chinese Laundry. Love Chang and his insane wife, Shei Shei. They are pros at getting the blood outta my clothes.
My love in life is my turquoise and white, big chrome everywhere, including her tail fins 59 rag top Buick. She’s a doll, and besides my gold fish Gumbo and Stella, I am pretty much a lone Great White cruising around in the dead oceans of Vegas.
I have tons a dough, millions, parents died in a holocaust of fire on the Air France Concord Holocaust outside of Paris. They left me millions, cried a lot, I really loved them. I have the money with this vampire stock guy at Morgan Stanley who sends most of the interest to various charities.
That, in this cold world makes me feel good.
With the fortune they left me, and as soon as I became 18 I scooted England, and hit up the world, ended up years later in The Colonies for my education.
I spent year’s cruising around the world, Asia, Europe, The Middle East, India because I have this Mensa brilliant brain that is mostly wild, and uncontrollable. I taught myself languages, learned about history, art, different cultures, drugs, you name them and how to fuck as many insane girls and boys I could.
That’s how I rolled then and then the light bulb went off.
So tired of being stoned all the time, I decided to formalize all of it. So I rolled into Wharton that hit man east coast training business school and got my MBA at 26. That’s another story, will give some peeps on that later.
I have to keep it real and love violence, beat downs, kicking ass, and catching bad guys, usually bail jumpers that have crossed the line. Choose the capture the bad boys and girls scene because it turns me on, mano a mano, hand to hand combat, and no girl or guy better try to sweet talk me. I will take them down hard.
Am a weapons expert, got guns, lots a guns, also my PI license and Gun Permit, usually stuffed into the waist band of my usual getup, black leather, skin tight hip huggers and black steel toed work boots.
Anyhooo, never was easy for me to fall in love, and my last girl pal Chen-Chen is gone as another month vanished. With time clicking right along something changed in my life, really a life preserver I was joansing for, secretly. In the end, I just couldn’t do it, commit. You know like the fairy-tail said
Fall in love for ever. Just can’t do it because I’m a free bird. I have relationship issues.
So Chen-Chen that twenty four year old Chinese, skin like silk, eyes like green almonds is gone. The goddess savant clothes designer almost had me. I loved her, well kinda and she gave me an out. I took it and now she’s in Moscow.
She gave me the big ace, the big invite, you know.
Come Janie with me, we live in Moscow, we make the love, we sex. I will make zee beautiful togs for you my lovely.
That fucking accent of hers and that onyx long hair of hers and that sweet cunt, fuck I will miss that.
And what did I do, I took the last life boat out, from her, the Titanic.
It broke my heart when I saw her tears fall down her perfect face. I simply watched as she and the last box of her shit had vanished down the street, passed the freak show of the Mexican circus down there at the end of the alley and, then she was gone.
It was one of those WHEW moments for me.
You know, when your mate gets the bullet in the fox hole, and not you. You feel bad, but you’re glad the lead slug didn’t hit you in the ear. Don’t get me wrong, I will miss her. It was all good, but I kept waiting for that cartridge cap of reality to hit me in the forehead.
You know, a gal falls in love, then everything goes bollucks, the new of it all is gone, and normally some babe forgets what made you special to begin with. Then along with the tears, a career girls heart dies. Well, what else is fucking new in the world of romance?
Chen-Chen, well no hints of that from her and I saw it in her green Asian eyes. I had to believe her when she said the anvil word, love.
But what the fuck, I love Vegas, what was I gonna do in Moscow, though I totally dig the place. But done that, did that, so I’m breathing easy again, though the sex was nuclear. I won’t forget that, ever.
It’s pretty much me, Gumbo and Stella my goldfish. Well for once in my fucked my life, I did the right thing rescuing them. They we’re the perfect add on to my non-existent family, and their filled with love, loyalty, licks, big bug eyes and it’s an everyday thing with them. Every moment is new with them, their love for me, I hope and is for the moment, I can’t ask for anything else. For where does a bitch like me ever get unconditional love in this bastard of a world.
I’ll tell my family of fish stories later for as usual I’m getting ahead of myself, always like that with me and reality.
Awhile back I was having my usual hoot tracking down a bail jumper.
I had driven my 59 Buick, top down, summer breeze on my buzzed blond mop over to the The Bent Club a notorious underground blood bar club, among many other deviant and wonderful obsessions.
The Bent is slotted down in a dangerous part of N. Las Vegas. Lots of gang bangers, Asian, Hispanics M-13’s out of El Salvador, drug dealers, blacks and whores, all rumbling and killing for a few blocks of their gang empires. Not at The Bent Club though.
N. Vegas is bad
and you never see that part of Vegas on those brochures showing the plaid golf pants sets winning a zillion dollars at the slots there.
The sewer is puissant with lots of pimps, players, wannabees and drug addicts finding a place to shoot up for the night under freeway under passes and along degrading dumpster worlds. It’s a street-walker hooker’s paradise, young old, in between.
You know, ex show girls and runaways from Biloxi and Iowa that thought Vegas would change their lives, answering their dreams. Then, far too late they, like busting out on life’s crap table they would be found next to a pile of garbage in some alley raped, savaged and a heroin needle stuck in their arms. Last call the coroner zip, zip, zipping them up in a black body bag.
Anyways The Bent Club is a stylish place. It’s filled with queers, dykes, nude dancers, gay boys, transgender kids, Goth, EMO and Hip Hop girls. Also, it’s an elegant hangout for straight rich older gay submissive men and woman lawyers, doctors, judges, sport stars, performers and men and woman looking for sex with some empty headed boy with road bump abs and girls with golden cunts, and nothing between the ears.
It’s a private local club, lots of bartering for people souls and at times and so stylish. Best of everything sold there, coke, champagne, X, pot and the finest foods and liquor’s can be had at a price there.
Drugs are prevalent, but I never touch them. I like what I am going to be doing tomorrow, especially that I am going to wake up alive.
Also, it’s very respectful and no one ever gets an attitude about what ever deviant and honest thing anyone is seeking for the night. If it is consenting between two people, it usually goes down there.
Lots of Vegas black cops hang there. It’s the only place left in Vegas they can get a little relief from the whole sale slaughter of human beings that is a ritual night after night in Vegas. Most of my friends are cops, including a righteous dude, Lieutenant Victor Garcia over there a N. Vegas Metro. More on him later
Because I am a voyeur and a thrill girl it’s one of the few places in Vegas where I feel totally comfortable and I so love the honest vibe of the club.
Like I said, it’s also a Blood Drinkers hang out. They got their own mojo section going on, usually in the dark corners. I think it’s cool, never judge them, yet it’s not something I am into.
Days earlier I had accepted a bail contract from Hank over there at Hanks Bail Bond for a dangerous piece of street trash, this 6ft 2, dirty blond, pure and ultra-violent dude named Jimmy Flicks.
Anyhow, it had all gone down as I had planned.
Looking all dollish and such, I had layer caked my long bod along the bar and had started drinking my martinis. Jimmy Flicks had entered, felt my Gravitational Sex Tractor Beam and we had chit-chatted it up, and like sex starved wolverines had jetted the place.
Me being so horny.
BLAST, I’m starting to talk like a Vietnamese hooker.
Me so Horny GI.
While this turbo charged kid Jimmy Flicks was at the Loo taking one last toot I was getting my magnum and shoulder holster and chatting it up with young Goth Super Doll Glenda, the hat check girl. Not knowing if Jimmy Flicks was going to hammer the sexual lights out of me, or just try to murder me because I was a girl with a gun and a badge, I needed a back up sex plan.
Glenda is all Goth all the time. Meaning her pixie banged black hair is death black, as are her nails, lips, eyebrows, as well as the heavy mascara she wears is black too. She’s like 19 and stunning. She’s got hardware on her lips, ears, cheeks, eyebrows, nose, nipples as well as having these cool bolts stuck into her head.
She hasn’t quite thought through what she just might look like when she is forty, but hey, no one lives forever.
As usual she was semi-naked, just this little black mini skirt hugging her small hips just above her laser beamed cunt. Her bod, as was the usual was Goth thin and was covered with tattoos and I won’t go into detail. It was the usual Japanese stuff and you know the kind the rest of the girls have.
Anyhooo, to make a long story short, Glenda has been begging me like Valley Girl fooooreeever for me to fuck her, or her to fuck me. It’s all and the same thing to me.
So while I was waiting for my new hero to arrive, hopefully without white powder dusted all over his face, Glenda and I made arrangements for a little girl sex rendezvous later.
Seemed perfect to me and, then Our Jimmy (That’s what the Brits call their Star Player. Our ?) was there.
I gave Glenda a conspiracy wink and a C-note tip and with my arm wound around my new man, I exited as the starlet I’ve always felt ME to be.
To make a long story short because I have another bail contract to fulfill tonight it pretty much went like I figured.
Once outside, I had dragged Jimmy into an alley. Feeling like a slut, I sucked him off and, then ooooooed and awwwwwed and oooooowied as he first fucked the NEON out of my cunt. He then sodomized me and I was so happy from the pain and pleasure of it, I almost started to chirp, chirp, chirp like a crazed Parakeet.
With his Vice Grip fingers holding my naked stomach, and his dick like a car truck piston hammering my ass, well just after I climaxed for the zillionth time, and because I am a gentlemen I felt him cum in my ass, thank fucking God.
I felt pleased after knowing that a good time was had by all.
After, because I still needed to fulfill that bail bond, I had used my martial arts skills, broken elbow, knee cap, a chop to the larynx and had kicked the living shit out of him in the alley. I did feel kinda bad as I looked at his teeth on the asphalt as I cuffed him. But you know, no one ever asked him to break the law.
HELLO, I could have given him a toe tag.
Anyhoo, I whisked him off to Hanks Bail Bonds over there in Henderson, got my Do Re Me.
I then scooted back to The Bent Club wrangled up Glenda and with her snuggled in nice and tight and the wind whistling past the graveyard in my Buick, we went to my loft and had Napalm sex and as Glenda would say while she chewed her Bubbelicious bubble gum as well as my cunt.
Foooooor-Eeeeeever.
God, who is the luckiest Biatch in the fucking world?
Anyhow a new day; a new night; a new bidness at hand.
Jane, Vegas PI. checking out.
Xxx
“BOOM. BOOM. BOOM .” The music boomed.”
Maybe we can make it alright
We could make it better sometime
Maybe we can make it happen baby
We could keep trying but things will never change
So I don’t look back
Still I’m dying with every step I take
But I don’t look back
Just a little little bit better
Good enough to waste some time
Tell me, would it make you happy baby?
We could keep trying but things will never change
So I don’t look back
Still I’m dying with every step I take
But I don’t look back
Jane here, and that’s how I roll. I just love Sharissa’s vibe, she is the total real deal, man I dig her music.”
One AM cruising done Sahara Blvd. in my doll 59 Buick, wires from my Apple I-Pod plugged into my brain, boot on the dash, Marlboro slotted between my lips and singin’ along with my girl Sharissa to her Every Beat of my Heart.
“And it hurts with every heart beat.”
And it hurts with every heart beat
And it hurts with every heart beat
And it hurts with every heart beat.”
“Boom Boom Boom...Boom Boom Boom.” The music thumps.
“And it hurts with every heart beat.”
Yes it does, as I smoke, and plug from a small bottle of Wild Turkey as I cruise along the desert night in my Buick feelin’ tight and just so right.
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I’ve always been a boulevard girl and love the road.
Got a new bail fail contract, that’s what I call it from Biffs’ Bail Bond, a friend of Hanks over there in Pahrump Nevada. I am heading to another one might call a fetish club in N. Vegas named Candy Land.
Candy Land is pretty much the demented twin sister of The Bent Club.
Though a class joint it is in-habituated by fringe clans of society. There is a little more of the aroma there of BDSM and Bondage and the place, though very cool most of the times, does have it moments of complete madness.
There are lots of EMO kids, as well as Punks, Hip Hop girls and Goth girls hanging their black lip gloss there and also some skin heads and anarchists and also like The Bent Club it’s a Vampire Bar.
Which means some of the cute kids that hang there are blood drinkers. With their fake Dracula fangs and cute getups well, there usually on the fringe and are corner hangers.
It’s also a hangout for the rich mixed genders, bisexual, lesbian, gay and transgender folks, all looking for something. Basically, it has the same cliental as her sister The Bent has.
I just got this new Bail contract from Biff, and he’s worried about this dangerous and very lethal fucking dirty blond piece of trailer trash called Tina (DILDO) Barks.
Great fucking nick name.
She got that name de pleura because the doll always has in a leather sheath, stitched to her filthy Levis, this foot long massive black dildo.
She famous in the lesbian rough trade community because she killed a girl one and men, rumor have it, before. She is a tough, brutal street dealing coke queen.
She’s mega dangerous and I have the Bail Jump contract on her from Hank for her almost killing a girl at Lizzie’s, a notorious Butch dyke bar last week.
Since I felt like I hadn’t been fucked right for dog years, (Jimmy Flicks doesn’t count) I could feel that tinkle, tinkle, tinkle wet feeling in my cunt. That usually told me that sex or a beat down would soon be visiting. Of course those two coin flips are two of my most fav things in the world.
