Valerie reached back and squeezed my balls as she slid forward, fucking me the way I might fuck her if I were on top. She slid forward hard, forcing me to drive up into her, then backed away, then slid forward, then backed away. She was fucking the shit out of me.
The view was amazing. I loved the way her tits rippled each time she slammed her pussy down. I wanted to lift up into her but I couldn’t. The pain was too strong. I vowed to bend her over next time and fuck her from behind, to fuck her so hard and so good she’d know the difference between an injured me and a normal me. In the meantime, all I could do was provide the cock for her to ride and damn did she ride. Her pussy was un-fucking-believable.
Her pendant hopped around her neck and her tits danced and her stomach shook and her pussy dripped and the bed squeaked and thunder clapped and a siren wailed and a chorus sang and church bells rang and fireworks popped and the ground fucking shook as I suddenly exploded inside her, shooting my cum into her. Valerie kept riding, screaming out my name as she devoured me.
“Ivory!” she yelled. “Fuuuuuck meeee!”
I gripped her thighs and dug my nails in as I lifted my ass up, fighting through the pain to try and give her an inch more to bury inside her pussy.
“I’m come…come…I’m…ah…I’m coming!” she yelled. “I’m coming!”
She kept riding me until she came and collapsed on top of me, forgetting the pain I was in and falling down onto my chest. I cried out but she thought it was in sexual pleasure. So I played along.
“Oh shit,” I said. “You are…you’re insane!”
“It was so good,” she said. “You are a great fuck.”
The way she worded that concerned me for some reason. I wasn’t looking for another girl to bury my dick inside. I wanted something more and I hoped that’s what she wanted. Well, hell, don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t looking for a wife either, at least no time soon, but I guess I hoped things would last for a while. I liked her.
She lay there on top of me for a long time until she finally slid off to the side and lay next to me. Neither of us showered. We were both out cold within seconds.
Valerie left my apartment later that night, promising to return the next day. She needed to get home before her little girl woke up for school. I let her borrow my car again. I really had no need for it since every place I went was in walking distance. Kevin returned right around the time she left, which was late, or early depending on how you look at it. It was before dawn, but not much.
He clearly didn’t expect me to be awake when he returned. He kept the lights off as he entered and headed toward his room. I flipped on the hall light, nearly blinding him.
“Kev,” I said.
There, under the orange hallway glow, I saw Kevin’s face. He had a long cut down one cheek and his eye was nearly swollen shut. It would be black and blue by the morning.
“What the fuck happened to you?” I asked. “Were you in a strip club again?”
He looked down at his feet and didn’t reply.
“Kev, I’m serious. What happened?”
“I g…g…got in a f…fight,” he said. “I’m okay.”
He pushed past me and went into his bedroom. I turned on the light and he covered his eyes.
“Where did this happen, man?” I said. “And why didn’t you call me? You know I would’ve been there in a second.”
“You…you…you’re already h…hurt,” he said. “I’m okay.”
“This happened at a strip club?” I asked.
“Y…y…yes,” he admitted.
“For fuck’s sake, Kev,” I said. “What happened to your girlfriend?”
He didn’t answer. He lay back on his bed and covered his eyes with his pillow. His shoes were still on his feet so I walked over to him and fought through my own pain to pull them off. I let them drop to the floor. He’d have to do his clean and tidy thing on his own tomorrow morning.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked. “Maybe we should take you to a doctor.”
“D…d…did you go t…t…to one?” he asked.
“Fuckin’ smartass,” I said as I walked out of his room and flipped off his light.
Seeing a brother in pain is one of the most difficult things to go through. I imagined it was a lot like seeing your child in pain. I wouldn’t know since my ex whisked mine away. In the darkness of my bedroom, I stared at my son’s shoe on the bookshelf. It was so small, about half the size of my hand. By now his shoes would be a lot bigger. He was ten years old. I wondered how he was doing. I wondered if he looked anything like me or if he looked more like his mom. She was beautiful. He wouldn’t miss out by having her looks. Hopefully he didn’t inherit my fiery temper. Probably the best thing she could have done for that kid was take him far away from me. He didn’t need to have anything to do with my rocky past or my uncertain future. Brandon didn’t need to meet my skeletons. It seemed they needed to be buried better. Thinking of skeletons reminded me of Nikki.
She’d gone away to dance. What did that even mean? Was she a backup dancer for some singer or was she a stripper?
Valerie came to mind and I smiled. What had I gotten myself into with this girl? Whatever it was, it made me happy. I didn’t know if she was my girlfriend but I supposed she was. Suddenly a nagging feeling played at my gut. What if I never saw her again?
Is this how so many women feel when they sleep with a guy for the first time? Will she call? Will I see her again? She said I was a good fuck. Was that all I was? A good fuck?
The last thought running through my mind before I drifted off was the notepad in Kevin’s bedroom. It had been my intention to ask him about his odd behavior when Mrs. Rebecca was brought up at the diner, and to find out if he had looked her up lately, but I’d forgotten all that when I saw his battered form.
What are you up to, Kevin?
Chapter 7 – Nikki
That night, after James walked me home, I had to go to work. I didn’t want to. I wanted to lie in bed and sulk, to feel sorry for myself for once again fucking things up. James had been willing to talk things out with me. He made it pretty clear that he was still interested in me, but I had to go fuck it up again. I’d told him the truth. I missed James but felt I didn’t deserve him. That’s what broke my heart the most. So I went to work with all these negative thoughts racing through my mind.
Alone in the dispatch center at about two o’clock in the morning, I got a serious call. A group of five males were found nearly beaten to death. The woman on the phone was the girlfriend of one of the guys and said she wasn’t comfortable with calling “911” because she thought one of the guys might have had a warrant out for his arrest and she hoped I could get them to the hospital without too many problems. Her boyfriend could pay. He had a lot of money. I made no promises but sent an ambulance to her location.
The fact that she thought calling Swift Fleet was going to get her boyfriend out of an arrest was pretty funny. One of the things we have to do, by law, is call the cops whenever there’s a violent crime. This was definitely a violent crime considering one of the responders called back to tell me I needed to add the following to my nightly report. Two males were found with disfigured faces and what appeared to be crushed cheek bones and several missing teeth. One male had both arms and both legs broken. One male was left with serious internal bleeding from what appeared to be a metal pole shoved up his ass. One male had the back of his head smashed in. All were in serious condition but none of the injuries seemed to be life threatening.
As I took down the notes, a shudder ran through my body.
How fucking violent are we humans able to get?
The answer seemed to come with my next call. I hit the button on my console to answer the insistent beeping of an incoming call and said my call opening.
“Swift Fleet response, what’s the nature of your emergency?”
Silence.
Not again.
“Swift Fleet,” I said again.
The whistling of
Ring around the Rosy flowed through both ears in my headset. Chills ran down my legs and up my arms. My stomach growled as that uneasy feeling played at the pit of my belly. The “we all fall down” part was drawn out slowly and I felt claws rake at my insides and my hands began to tremble.
“Hello,” I said. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“Because I l…l…like you,” the caller said.
“If you like me, then leave me alone. You know these calls are recorded, right? The cops will hear this message?”
“G…good. I wa…want to t…tell you my n…n…name,” the caller said.
“Kevin?” I suggested. “Is this Kevin?”
“K…Kevin?” the caller asked, with an amused sound to his voice.
It wasn’t a simple question but a declaration that I was an idiot. Next came that evil laughter, that teasing taunt I’d heard on the other call. He was making fun of me.
“Leave me alone,” I said.
“My n…n…name is S…Simon,” the caller said. “T…t…tell the p…police S…Simple Simon is my n…name.”
“Please,” I begged. “Call someone else. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”
“Do you like p…p…pie?” Simple Simon asked.
“I’m going to hang up now,” I warned. “Bye.”
“W…wait,” Simple Simon said. “180th s…street. The v…v…victim will b…be f…f…familiar to you.”
I couldn’t move. What did he mean? Ivory? Ivory was the only person in town I cared about. He wouldn’t have the balls to go after any of my exes. Derek would surely beat his ass and Haven, no, he wouldn’t take on the whole Iron Claw MC.
He began to whistle again. Ring around the rosy…pocket full of posy…ashes…ashes…
The whistling stopped and for three whole seconds all was silent.
“We all fall dowwwwwn,” came a childlike voice that sounded as if it came from one of those pull-string dolls.
I slapped the disconnect button and immediately dialed the police. I had to explain myself three times before I was told that a cruiser would be on its way to my location. Then I sat and waited in total silence. Not a single call came in the twenty minutes it took for the cops to arrive. It was a partner team. I don’t remember much of what I told them as my nerves were all over the place.
You’d think, since I worked in a job that often required me to speak with the police, that I’d be a pro at communicating with the cops. Over the phone I was. In person, not so much. I don’t know what it is really. Maybe it was my time on the run at such a young age. But I seem to fall apart when I’m face to face with someone in uniform. Even in a situation like this, when I wasn’t guilty in any way, I still felt like I’d done something wrong and that the cops might figure it out. The way the two stared at me while explaining everything made me felt like I was lying.
All calls are recorded at Swift Fleet, for liability reasons, and in the end the two left with a copy of the recorded conversation. They seemed to think it was probably a hoax but promised they’d look into it. I had to force my way through the rest of the night and couldn’t leave fast enough when my relief arrived.
When I left work, the parking lot was darker than it had any right to be. Usually it was lit up like a football stadium but for some reason, this night, the lights were out and I found myself stepping out into pitch black darkness. When my shift ended at four o’clock, the streets were usually dead but this time it was just after two and the street out by the bus stop was still somewhat alive with cars returning home from bars and clubs. The drunk drivers way out yonder served as a beacon of hope and I walked quickly to reach them.
But then I heard the whistling.
This time it was different. It took me a moment to figure out what the tune was and where it was coming from. Like an ice cream truck had started following me across the parking lot, the sinister song floated on the breeze, kicking up my hair as it reached my ears.
London Bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down…
Silence.
London Bridge is falling down…
Silence.
My feet moved faster until I was at a slow jog, clutching my purse, praying to God I’d make it to the street before whoever it was behind me decided to pounce.
My fair lady…
My jog turned into a sprint. He’d reached the end of the song so the only options were to either start whistling it all over again or do whatever happens when the song is over. I didn’t want to find out what that was.
Then he laughed, the same laugh I heard over the phone, but this time it was behind me in the parking lot. I had no headset or great distance separating us, only however many feet he needed to take to snuff out my life. I screamed. I ran as hard as I possibly could and fought through deep breaths to scream out for anyone close enough to hear.
As I reached the yellow glow of the street lamp shining down over the bus stop, I didn’t stop. IT was empty and I could be killed as easily there as I could in the darkness of the parking lot. So I ran. I ran out into the street with my arms flailing. The sound of screeching tires spun me around and then I saw a bright light and that’s all I remember.
When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed, with a blanket pulled up to my neck. A mean looking nurse stood over me tapping a clipboard softly against the bedrail. She wore so much foundation that her face looked like it was made of plastic and her lipstick was bright pink. For a second, I swore a geisha was standing over me.
“Glad to see you decided to join the world of the living,” she said.
Not a geisha. She speaks English. Is this a dream?
“What…where am I?” I asked.
“San Francisco General.”
I remembered the headlights and the screeching tires.
“The whistler,” I said.
“The horn,” she argued. “Of a car. You’re lucky you’re barely hurt at all.”
“I mean someone was whistling.”
“I see. Well, you had a nasty fall but the doctor checked you out and said you’re fine other than a scraped knee and a few bruises. How do you feel?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is there someone I should call? Any family?”
“I don’t really have anyone.”
“Nobody?”
I wondered if I should call James. Would he come to the hospital to see me? Would he help me get home? Or would he leave me the same way I’d left him outside my apartment, with some bullshit reason for why we wouldn’t work out. God, I’d done a great job of fucking things up with that man. Regardless of whether or not he decided to show up, he was the only person I knew. Sure, I guess I could have called Jane, but I didn’t know her half as well as I knew James.
James picked up on the fourth ring.
“H…hello?” he said.
Shit. He’s asleep. Maybe I should call back.
“Who is this?” he asked.
“James,” I said. “It’s Nikki.”
“Nikki,” he said sounding suddenly alert. “You okay, babe?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where are you?”
I had no intention of crying. Tears weren’t me. They weren’t my thing. At least not since I was younger. However, this night, they came flowing out so hard I wished I could reach out with my go go gadget arm and slam the door shut. The nurse didn’t need to see me in the thralls of misery.
“I’m in the hospital,” I said. “James, I’m so sorry for waking you up but I don’t want to be alone right now. I need you.”
Whatever the nurse had given me upon arrival kept me in a dazed state. I slipped in and out of consciousness so I don’t know how long it took him to arrive. The nurse didn’t politely bring my visitor in to see me like one would expect but instead, he showed up on his own. It wasn’t who I expected.
Kevin shuffled into my room with both hands in his pockets. He looked like shit. His face was cut and his eye was bruised and he was walking like he was in pain. Heavy
breaths swooshed in and out through his nostrils as he kept his mouth pinned shut and shot me an odd smile that looked partly like an embarrassed kid and partially sinister, like the grin of a devilish cartoon character. The phone call from earlier that night and the laughing and whistling in the parking lot came flooding over me until I couldn’t control my breath.
Simple Simon. I’m alone with Simple Simon.
My fingers clutched at the wool blanket draped over my body. My eyes went wide. I couldn’t move. A full blown panic attack had me paralyzed in the bed, with what I was sure was a killer slowly moving toward me.
“Help,” I wanted to say loudly but instead squeaked out barely above a whisper.
“N…N…Nikki,” Kevin said. “Are ya…you okay?”
“Please,” I whispered, trying so hard to yell out.
Ice water ran through my nails and down my fingers, arms, and chest. My knuckles locked up and goose bumps rose on my arms as the frigid liquid raced down my legs and settled at the arches in my feet. My whole body was cold and each step Kevin took brought me closer to the reality that I might die tonight. Simple Simon was what he’d called himself on the phone. It had been Kevin though. I was sure of it this time. The stutter. The tone. Kevin was Simple Simon and Simple Simon had me trapped in my room, stuck in my bed, unable to speak or scream.
“Wha…wha…what happened?” Kevin asked.
Saliva collected in my mouth until I could force it down in a big swallow. With my throat wet, I pushed to clear my throat and the rumble that worked its way down my neck finally allowed me to speak.
“James?” I asked.
“H…he’s s…signing the v…v…visitor form,” Kevin said. “They w…wanted c…c…copies of our la…la…licenses.”
Quills and Daggers - A Second Chance at Love Romance: The Collective - Season 1, Episode 5 Page 9
