Chapter 6

Melissa needed to get out, it was a sunny Friday and she needed to blow off some steam after talking with Veronica Conway. Veronica was a sweet kid from a great family, much like Melissa’s, except Veronica’s father was a little more accepting of Veronica than Melissa’s father would have been. Melissa knew she showed the typical personality disorder of most women with father issues: high-risk behavior, the need to please, difficulty starting and maintaining relationships and a warped sexuality.

She hid that part of herself pretty well, especially after getting her master's. She never discussed that side of herself as she wanted to continue practicing psychology and she didn’t think the board would let someone like her near children if they really knew what she was capable of.

Melissa took a deep breath and walked out onto her patio. She owned a small cottage in the northwest side of town near her academy. She had a pretty good view of the river that ran through town. Her parents lived in the more exclusive part of town in the same neighborhood as her older sister Alyssa. Sweet, little Alyssa, that was how Melissa thought of her older sister. Alyssa was soft-spoken, the apple of her daddy’s eye and practically perfect in every way. She married shortly after graduating from college and promptly had three adorable children. Melissa loved her sister, her brother-in-law, her nephews and niece, but honestly, sweet, little Alyssa made Melissa sick. At least, Alyssa’s conformity made Melissa sick.

Melissa was more unconventional and that drove her father crazy. Why couldn’t Melissa be more like her sister, he would constantly ask. He was always comparing Melissa to Alyssa and Melissa always came up short. It wasn’t until Melissa was much older that she realized that the comparison hurt Alyssa too.

Melissa shook herself out of her daydreams; she had to get ready. It had been a while since Melissa had some male attention. Her last relationship, if one could call it that, ended a year ago. The attraction and desire fizzled out, much to the delight of the gentleman in question. He was getting too jumpy as he never knew when Melissa would drop by. She ended the connection just as abruptly as she began it.

Melissa showered and dressed. She thought the red dress would bring out her light blond hair and light green eyes, they were the same color as Lake Media about twenty-five minutes outside town. Red was an aggressive color and Melissa felt aggressive. The wind was starting to pick up and there was a charge in the air. She could smell the rain coming from the west. The electricity in the air matched her energy. She was about to strike like lightning. She straightened her hair, applied makeup and perfume. There was no doubt as to what she was after.

She went to the country club she generally frequented when she needed some male attention. The men there were members of the club, they were socially in the same strata as Melissa and they were successful members of the community. Some of them were married, Melissa left those men alone, along with the ones who were in established relationships. She wanted a single man with no attachments. She saw one man at the end of the bar. He had blond hair and sky blue eyes. He was well over six feet tall and an all around good looking man. She walked over to him.

“Hello,” she held out her hand. “I am Melissa.”

He didn’t respond, he presented her with his back. He rejected her, Melissa thought. He didn’t even acknowledge her.

“Hey,” Melissa decided to try again. Maybe he didn’t hear her.

“Go away you fat hag,” he said. “I am trying to attract a beautiful woman and your stench is driving them all away.”

Melissa decided to make him a target. He wanted to play mean, she would play mean. Generally, assholes like him got really drunk. This shouldn’t be hard. She walked off and picked a table where she could observe him. This was going to be a very productive night for the side of her that liked to inflict pain.

Melissa watched him approach the women he deemed worthy of his attention, but none of them wanted anything to do with his brutish behavior. They all either walked away or otherwise ignored him.

One of the women came by Melissa’s table and she stopped her, “Hey, can you tell me the name of the blond man sitting there and making a complete ass of himself.”

“Oh, Honey,” the woman, a pretty, young brunette, said, “you don’t want anything to do with him. He is a complete ass.”

You mean he needs to get fucked in the ass, Melissa thought. “I am just curious about who he is. He called me a fat hag.”

“He is David Miller,” the woman said. “His family owns several businesses and they are well established. According to him, I am lucky he looked my way.”

“Not David Miller of the Miller Industries?” Melissa asked, not believing her good fortune.

“The one and the same,” the woman said.

“Thank you so much,” Melissa said as the woman walked away. Melissa’s green eyes took a more predatory gleam. “You have been very helpful.”

Melissa watched him for another hour and a half, just when she thought he was going to slip through her fingers, he made the mistake of drunkenly swinging at one of the bouncers. Melissa took the opportunity, grabbed her purse and walked over to the growing confrontation.

“Hey David, so good to see you again,” Melissa said.

“Who are you?” he slurred.

“The woman who is going to keep you out of jail,” she said smoothly. “I will take him home. There is no need to call the police.”

“He has to leave now,” the bouncer said. “Or I will call the sheriff’s deputy over and haul his ass to jail.”

“You have my word, sir,” Melissa said sweetly. “We are leaving now. Come on, David, before you get us both in trouble. And your father won’t be happy if he has to bail us both out of jail.”

That seemed to have some effect on the young man as he stopped fighting Melissa, “All right sweet cheeks, you want to take me home, lead the way.”

“Oh, I will,” Melissa said. Her mark was as obedient as a lamb and probably would pass out in a few minutes.

She got him in her car and took him to the house she was renovating. She had several rooms furnished and was going to rent it out as soon as the mudroom and bathrooms were done. She led him up the stairs to the front door, opened the door and led him through another locked door. This room had a bench which allowed her to tie up her marks, render them completely helpless and completely compliant with what she wanted to do.

David had passed out and Melissa had moved him to the bench, she removed his shoes, socks, pants and shirt. She left his underwear on for now. She placed him on his stomach, she stretched out his arms, buckled his wrists in the leather straps. and waited for him to wake up. She had Pedialyte ready for him to drink when he woke up. David started to snore. He was comfortably resting against the leather pillow of the bench. Melissa decided to change into her bra and strap-on. She might as well get comfortable. It was going to be a while before David woke up.

She put on the leather bra that lifted her breasts up to where they were almost spilling out of the cups. She strapped on the penis. She walked over to where David was still snoring and watched him.

Fifteen minutes later he started to stir and asked for a drink. She held the drink up to his lips and he slurped it up. She let him drink as deeply as he needed to and there was a stream of liquid dripping from his mouth.

“What is going on?” David said. “Why can’t I move my arms? What did you do to me?”

“Nothing yet,” Melissa said. “But that is about to change.”

“Who are you?” David squinted. He had an agonizing headache from too much alcohol.

‘I am the fat hag,” Melissa said.

“You don’t look fat to me,” David said as he noticed her breasts in the leather cups. He also saw that she had a flat stomach and something was connected to her groin area covering her crotch. He blinked several times and the image finally became clear. It was an erect penis, but the kind women strap on. “Hey,” he said as he tried to get out of the leather straps but he couldn’t move, “What is going on? What are you going to do with that?”

“I am going to have a little fun at your expense,” Melissa said. “Since you decided to have a little fun at my expense earlier this evening. Don’t worry, it won’t hurt. Much.”

She ran her hands along his arms, he was strong, his skin was smooth and he was starting to breathe heavily which was making his back rise and fall. Melissa massaged his shoulders and David felt the penis push against his side.

“No, wait,” he said desperately. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I know I don’t,” Melissa took off his shorts and exposed his backside. She slapped it a few times preparing him mentally for her penetration. “I want to do this.”

“Oh god,” David started to panic, “Please no.”

Melissa just smiled as she parted his cheeks and pushed the tip of the penis into his anus. David started to scream and Melissa plunged in all the way. She started to thrust into his asshole, stretching it and listened to David beg her to stop.

“I will stop when I am good and ready,” Melissa said as she continued to thrust. She plunged in a few more times and then took off the strap. “Are you ready for round two?”

David sobbed as she loosened the bounds that held his wrists, first one then the other. David was too weak to fight back, he didn’t know what was going to happen to him next. He walked over to a chair and sat down. It was a little painful, but he didn’t want to fight her. He didn’t know who she was and he didn’t want to see the strap-on again.

Melissa made David put his arms on the arms of the chair and she buckled his wrists into those straps to insure David couldn’t move. He looked at her, his blue eyes wide and watery.

“Oh please,” Melissa said. “I didn’t hurt you that badly.”

He looked at her again. She was wearing just the bra. The strap was gone and she was naked. He noticed that she either shaved or waxed her bikini area as it was completely smooth.

“Yes,” Melissa said as she allowed him to look at her. “I am a woman. Are you going to do everything I tell you?”

David just nodded.

“Good,” Melissa started to massage his penis. She dropped to her knees and put his shaft into her mouth and began to suck.

David started to breathe heavily. He could feel his shaft become engorged with blood. When he was fully erect, Melissa flicked the head with her tongue and spread her legs to take him inside her. She straddled David and started to move. He wanted to cry again, but this time it was because she was so wet and tight. He started to groan and listened to her pant and moan. He wanted to touch her and told her to unbuckle him.

Melissa ignored him and took her pleasure as she slid up and down his shaft. She started to come around his shaft and felt him release.

“Oh, damn that was good,” David said as he pumped into her. “That makes up for the ass play. Although, if you want to ride my cock again, you are more than welcome to.”

Melissa rolled her eyes, she got off of him and released him, “Get dressed. It is time to get you back.”

“Hey, baby there is no hurry,” David walked over to her brashly and put his hands on her shoulders. She had her back to him, so he pulled her closer and started to grope her breasts through the cups. “What’s say we take this off and let me play with your tits. I can make you feel good too.”

Melissa stepped out of his arms and handed him another Pedialyte. “You need to rehydrate.”

“All right,” David said, taking the drink. “When will I see you again?”

“When I want you,” Melisssa said simply.

Melissa wasn’t planning on seeing him again. Not because he enjoyed the night too much, but because the encounter felt empty. He was far too compliant and that didn’t bode well for her. She knew she would cause more pain by openly rejecting him and making this a one-night stand. No call, no contact, no names. It was cruel and she wanted to be cruel. He will figure it out when he doesn't have any way to contact her.

Later that night she dropped him off at his apartment. He tried to get her to come inside, but she decided to go home instead. She wanted to think about what she really wanted. Usually marks like David were perfect. They became responsive, accepting of her attention and David would be enthusiastic, but she didn’t want what he was offering. She wanted someone different.

Marc Anthony’s phone rang for the fourth time. He thought it was another client by the way the calls were one right after the other.

He answered the phone: “What do you possibly want? I am in the middle of a stakeout.”

“Sorry to bother you, sir,” came the answer on the other end of the line.

“Shorty? What number are you calling from? I don’t have this number saved in my phone,” Marc Anthony looked at the unfamiliar number.

“I had to get a burner,” Shorty said. “The other number was tapped.”

“By the police?” Marc Anthony asked.

“By a hired hacker complements of the gang,” Shorty said. “They are looking at me pretty closely since Casey disappeared.”

“What do you mean Casey disappeared?” Marc Anthony kept watch on his mark. The husband hired him to follow the wife as there was a huge divorce settlement on the line. The husband thought the wife was cheating on him and the wife thought the husband was cheating on her. Turns out, they were both right and both hypocrites, but cases like this generally paid the bills for months.

“She disappeared a few days ago,” Shorty said. “But that wasn’t why I called you. I have a slasher on my hands. One of the girls came to tell me about a john who likes to cut up the girls something awful. I tried talking to Coyot about it, but he isn’t exactly listening to me since the Veronica Conway incident.”

“OK, so you have a slasher,” Marc Anthony said. He will get to the end of all this with Shorty after he deals with the main issue. He decided to let the wife have her fun uninterrupted tonight. He knew her schedule and she would be back to banging the business partner tomorrow too.

“Yep,” Shorty said. “I would appreciate it if you would hurry. I have a feeling that we are about to lose another girl.”

“He killed a girl?”

“Well, not directly,” Shorty said. “We lost two to infections. They got really bad fevers and died from the bacterial infections.”

Marc Anthony rolled his eyes. Fucking stupid gang members, they didn’t know antibiotics could have saved those girls’ lives. Or they were too scared to go anywhere near a hospital because of the prostitution.

“Tell me where the slasher is,” he said. “I will be there as soon as I can. Try to keep the girl from getting all cut up, OK.”

“Working on it,” Shorty said, then gave Marc Anthony the address of the motel.

“Right,” Marc Anthony said. “Why am I not surprised?”

Marc Anthony pulled up to the motel about fifteen minutes later, met Shorty at the front and got the prostitute’s room number. He walked quickly and quietly over to the room and placed his ear to the door. He placed his finger over his lips to tell Shorty, who crept right behind him, to be very quiet. It is wabbit hunting season, he thought.

They both were listening to the man inside the room, he boasted about what he was going to do to the girl and she responded by screaming.

“No, please,” she screamed. “Don’t hurt me. Please, don’t hurt me.”

He waved the small scalpel in front of her face, “You are going to be a good girl, right?”

She nodded but still didn’t come near him. She didn’t know what to do and hoped the “brothers” would hear her screams for help. She was running out of room and time. He was advancing on her and made slashing movements with the scalpel.

Marc Anthony busted through the door and pointed his gun into the room. He saw the girl who had fear written all over her face, but she was, thus far, unharmed. He looked at the man who was holding a scalpel up before him. The man made several advances towards the girl who screamed again.

“So, I hear you like to cut up little girls,” Marc Anthony pointed the gun right at him, “I know, why don’t you try that little trick with me?”

The man spun around in surprise, looked at the business end of the gun and threw his hands up, “I am unarmed.”

“Are you?” Marc Anthony asked. He looked at the girl, “she doesn’t act like you are unarmed.”

“What, that stupid bitch,” the man pointed back at the girl. “We were just having a little fun. Weren’t we, sweetheart? Weren’t we?” He asked threateningly.

She didn’t answer. She didn’t want Marc Anthony to leave her there with this monster.

“Look,” the man said. “Like I said, I am unarmed. The police can’t shoot an unarmed man.”

“Yeah, I am not the police so,” Marc Anthony pulled the trigger and watched the brute fall from a headshot. He holstered the gun and called to Shorty. “Hey man, we need to wrap this up, literally and get out of here. Someone was bound to hear that shot.”

Shorty grabbed the blanket and they wrapped the body in it and carried the body to the car, which was parked right in front of the room. Marc Anthony put the body in the bed of his truck and closed the cover. This way, no one could see inside the bed.

“Jump into the passenger side, Shorty,” Marc Anthony commanded. “You have a lot of explaining to do.”

“I thought this was a typical hit,” Shorty said. “I tell you when some john is mistreating our girls and you take care of it.”

“With Casey missing and something happening to Veronica Conway?” Marc Anthony looked at him.

“Oh, right,” Shorty sighed.

“Oh, right,” Marc Anthony agreed. He called his employee at his pig farm and told him to get the fire pit ready. “I know it is short notice, Jason, I just got the call myself. I pay you to do that you know. OK, then.”

Marc Anthony turned the car toward the highway and headed west deeper into the hill country. His farm was well outside of the city limits, but still in the county. It was about fifteen acres of land with about two to three hundred roaming pigs. Marc Anthony bought the farm and stocked it with pigs because they would eat anything, including his rather unusual hobby.

“So,” Marc Anthony started, “When did Casey go missing?”

“A few days ago, then Veronica Conway came to my house and sat in my office asking questions,” Shorty said sadly. “We know Casey is dead.”

“What happened to Veronica Conway?”

“Well, Coyot chose that moment to walk into my office, saw what he considers a luxury girl and tried to claim her then and there,” Shorty said.

“Whoa, not smart."

“No,” Shorty agreed. “Anyway, she disarmed him, pricked him in the neck and had the temerity to keep the knife. It was his favorite one too.”

“I always liked Veronica,” Marc Anthony smiled then changed the subject. “Are you sure Casey is dead?”

“Yeah,” Shorty said. “She didn’t skip. She wanted the life we were building just as much as I did.”

“You still want that life, right?”

“Now, it’s not worth it,” Shorty said. “I was building it for her.”

“I understand how you feel,” Marc Anthony said. “I know she would still want you to build that life.”

“How do you know?”

“I loved a young girl once too,” Marc Anthony said as he pulled onto the drive leading to the farm. “I lost her when I was 16, her name was Amee.”

They both got out of the truck and started to get the body ready for disposal. The blanket went into the fire along with the clothes. They threw the naked body into the pen with the pigs which started to devour the body immediately.

“What happened to Amee?” Shorty asked as he watched the clothes and blanket burn.

Marc Anthony looked at him, it was time someone knew about him, Shorty would understand what he went through and Shorty would also know he wasn’t alone.

Marc Anthony stared into the fire as he recounted the entire story of his childhood:

“I grew up in the projects as the only child of a single mother. I didn’t know my father, and frankly, neither did she. There were a lot of contestants on Whose Kid Are You Anyways where the points don’t matter. My mother was a prostitute and men came and went through our small apartment.

“Generally I was locked in a room when she entertained her gentlemen clients. I spent time reading everything I could get my hands on. I read about markets, economy, politics, history, biographies, and military history.

“I was eight years old when Amee moved in across the hall from us. Her mother was also a prostitute and a cocaine addict. It wasn’t easy to maintain childhood innocence while growing up in that environment. My mother saw the worst in men. Our mothers tried to protect us and I was spared from a lot of it being male myself. Amee wasn’t so lucky. She was six years old when the first man approached her mother about wanting to fuck the girl. Amee’s mother was high enough to say yes. Luckily, that night, my mother wasn’t high. She grabbed Amee and put her in the same room with me. Told me to watch after the child and make sure nothing happened to her. My mother got pretty badly beaten up for her trouble, but Amee was spared that night and every other night for eight years.

“Amee was 14 years old when a man demanded her. My mother intervened again, but this was going to be the last time. I was 16, and just got off work, I was walking up the stairs as my mother was tossed down them and broke her neck. The man grabbed Amee, locked the door, ripped off her clothes and raped her. I can still hear her screaming for him to stop and calling for me to come save her. I couldn’t move, I was looking at my mother’s dead body.

“Amee’s mother didn’t care. The man came out, zipped up his pants and started to walk out of the hall to the stairs. All she said was hey, you had my daughter, now where is my money? The man threw a couple of hundred dollars at her feet and stepped over my mother’s body like she was garbage. He didn’t even look at me.

“My boss helped me bury my mother in the cemetery. We had a headstone made, 'Angela Foster, beloved mother.'

“Amee’s mother continued to sell Amee, I would intervene several times, but other times, I would get there too late to help her. I would be just in time to clean off all the blood, bandage the cuts and treat the bruises. Amee changed, of course she would. She was taken advantage of, made to serve the worst of men by her own mother.

“A month later, the day came that would seal my fate. I came home from work to yet another man beating the shit out of Amee. She wasn’t fighting back, she just lay there and took it. In fact, she wasn’t moving at all and he was still hitting her. Enraged, I pulled him off of her and snapped his neck.

“Amee just looked at me, she had a vacant look in her eyes. Her soul was gone and spirit crushed. She committed suicide the next morning. She slit her wrists. I paid for her to be buried next to my mother. I bought the headstone: Amee Foster, Cherished Angel. I loved both of them and some asshole took them away from me,” Marc Anthony finished.

Shorty didn’t know what to say and there wasn’t much he could say to alleviate the pain Marc Anthony felt. He just wiped away a tear, for him and for Marc Anthony. For the girls they lost.

“Here,” Marc Anthony handed Shorty a beer, “I usually don’t condone underage drinking, but you need it.”

“I usually don’t commit underage drinking,” Shorty said as he opened the top and took a long drink. “But, I need it. How do you go on?”

“That is the hard part,” Marc Anthony said. “I live my life as a tribute to Amee. If I marry, it will be because she made me the caring man I am and if I am a good father, it is because she inspires me to be better than her father.”

“I see,” Shorty said. “I guess I will do the same thing. Does the pain ever stop?”

“I wish I could tell you it does,” Marc Anthony said. “But, no, you will carry this with you forever, just like a physical scar. But, in time you will find reasons to smile and enjoy life.”

“Like when?”

“Like when Veronica Conway steals Coyot’s knife and uses it against him.”

Both men laughed as they looked into the fire. Each one taking solace from the other.