Newton’s Third Law

Hilde stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and drying the water from her exquisite body. Padding across the floor and into the bedroom, she selected lacy black panties and a matching bra. She pulled a short sleeved black t-shirt over her head and drew tight black leather pants over the flare of her hips.

Zipping up her riding boots, she grabbed her leather jacket and went to the garage and was soon on her way to Cade’s address. Weaving her Ducati motorcycle through traffic, it took her about three quarters of an hour to locate the policeman’s residence. He was staying in a three story apartment building, slightly seedy and the edge of the wrong side of town.

Parking in the fenced in lot, she climbed off the bike and removed her gloves, then her helmet. Pulling her hair tie out, she shook her head and her hair free, before pulling it tight and putting the band back in. She set the helmet and gloves on the seat of the motorcycle before turning and walking toward the glass security door, boots clicking of the asphalt. At a half dozen paces from the door, she flicked her right hand and the buzzer sounded, clicking the lock. Pulling open the door, she was assailed by the strong smell of marijuana permeating the air. She was a little surprised by the aroma given that Cade was a cop. She took the stairs to her left and ascended to the second floor. Following the arrows indicating apartment numbers, she passed through a door and started down the hall toward Cade’s apartment. A door opened up ahead on her right and a large man in a white muscle shirt and jeans stepped out.

When he turned and saw her, he let out a, “Whoa,” and leered at her snug leather outfit. Stepping further out into the hall to bar her path, he said, “Heaven must be weeping tonight, there’s an angel missing,” voice loud and boisterous, a big grin on his unshaven face.

She eyed the man a second and frowned. “Not tonight,” she said, sliding passed him. She could feel his eyes lingering on her as she walked on, but she didn’t care. Another time, maybe she would have taken him, but tonight her focus was on the policeman who had intrigued her. Arriving at Cade’s apartment, she tapped on the door lightly. She waited a moment and tried again, no response. Closing her eyes and drawing on her power, she peered into the apartment but he was not there. She had hoped he would be home, his profile indicated he was somewhat reclusive and spent many hours at home in relative seclusion.

A simple gesture from her right hand and the lock on the door clicked. Opening it, she entered his single bedroom apartment and into a short hallway. To the left, a bathroom, straight on the bedroom, to the right the kitchen area. The bathroom was in disarray. Stubble littered the sink and his toothbrush lay behind the faucets. She opened the medicine cabinet. Antacids and headache pills. Aftershave. Lifting the bottle out, she sniffed it and smiled. Replacing everything, she paused at the door and looked back, a mischievous smile creeping over her face. Stepping back in, she lowered the toilet seat.

The kitchen was pretty Spartan, a counter separated the kitchen from the dining area and the living space beyond. The cupboards were barren save for a handful of glasses and a couple of pots. It looked as if he only owned a handful of plates and they were all in a drying rack beside the sink. There was no shortage of empty liquor bottles.

The dining area table was stacked with papers and there were more papers and a handful of newspaper clippings tacked to the wall including an article his infamous shooting. The profile Sadie provided her contained a very thorough and detailed account of Cade’s transition from indestructible hero cop to broken cop and while she understood the origin of his torment, there was still something in him, some quality about how he managed his personal anguish that appealed to her on a subliminal level.

In the living area, there was a chesterfield and chair, mismatched and threadbare, looking as if he had acquired from discount store. A small flatscreen TV and handful of video discs were against the wall opposite the couch. She contemplated lingering in the environment, a burning need aching in her. The delightful sensation creeping through her flesh brought a smile to her face. Anticipation only served to heighten the experience.

Her moment of reflection was broken when her cell phone rang. Pulling it out of her pocket of her jacket, she looked at the call display. Selene. The conversation was fairly short. Selene was on the prowl and wanted to know where to find Jack Dalton so Hilde provided her the address of his apartment and disconnected the call.

Not knowing how long she might have to wait, she decided to leave. Stepping back into the hall, she made sure the door was locked. The oaf who had tried to bar her passage still lingered in the hall. She started to walk toward him. He turned, leaning against the wall, arms folded over his thick chest. The door to his apartment open.

“C’mon beautiful, one drink, just share one drink with me,” he said, looking into his apartment then back to her.

Ignoring him, she moved to navigate around him, but this time when she attempted to slip passed him, he moved to prevent her. She stopped, looking up at him, a quizzical look in her yellow eyes.

“One drink,” he said, the smile on his face almost a leer. At this range, she could smell the alcohol on his breath.

She paused, considering. Placing her hand squarely in the middle of his chest, she pushed him back against the wall, a surprised look on his face that she could move him so easily. Locking her eyes onto his, she spoke, voice soft and low, “Fortunate for you the mood does not strike me now, else I would have you, bend you and break you and when there was nothing left, then I would devour you, body and soul. Now, step out of my path.”

The man blinked rapidly and gobbled for air as he moved out of her way and into the doorway of his apartment.

She smiled coldly and nodded her head. “Thank you.”

Jack and Clarice

Climbing up off of Jack, Clarice pulled herself standing on the mattress, placing a hand on the ceiling to steady herself. Bending at the waist, she shimmied out of her shorts and stepped forward, a foot to either side of his head.

“I think I know where this is going,” Jack said, a smile on his face as he lay back and appreciated the view.

Looking down on him, she lowered herself, knees to the side of his head, dropping her moistened vagina directly on his waiting mouth. Watching her descend, he marveled at how gorgeous she was and what a beautiful little pussy she had. He expertly lapped away at her sex, arousing her more fully and causing her pussy to respond by engorging with blood. No matter how hard he tried, or how he oriented his head, he just couldn’t get his tongue to those magical spots he knew were inside of her. Spots that would push her over the edge into a complete state of ecstasy. Taking his hair in her hands, she ground her pussy against his face, also trying to stimulate all of those same spots.

Sitting back, her ass on his chest, she placed a hand to either side of his face. Face flush with heated desire, she sucked her lowered lip into her mouth, “I want you inside me, all of you,” she said, hunger in her verdant eyes.

Leaning forward, he kissed her smooth vagina before nodding an affirmation. She smiled. At once, everything around him began to expand as he shrank away. She remained seated on her knees while he diminished. What had once been a small delicate flower loomed over him, the length of her pussy now almost the size of a doorway. Pleasure drooled out of her. She arched her hips forward slightly, parting her legs to facilitate access. She used her right hand to separate the petals of her feminine flower. Moving closer, he pushed his right arm into her to the shoulder. He could feel the powerful muscles flex around him the deeper he penetrated. Lowering his head, he dipped his left shoulder and pushed himself into her, around his head and shoulders to the waist. The smooth delicate flesh enfolding him. Reaching down, she took hold of his ankles in her left hand and pushed him as far as she could without letting him go, before slowly easing him back out until his head emerged, but his arms remained. The pace was very slow and deliberate, tender, but as heated desire soon replaced reason and urgency took hold, her pace quickened, she shifted her right hand and began to strum her expose clit. Bringing herself to the very edge of orgasm, she pushed him in again, this time, using her fingers on his feet, she drove him all the way inside. He could hear the sound of her heartbeat, her blood coursing through her. In the steamy darkness, amidst the slippery tissue, he found what he was looking for, her G-spot. Twisting around, he pulled himself toward, rubbing it, caressing it. Her juices flowed all around him. He could feel the muscular tension of an impending climax building in the flesh surrounding him, compressing him in anticipation of release. He continued to stimulate her, elevating her pleasure, kneading her sensitive spot until her walls of her vagina suddenly contracted around him so forcefully they crushed the air from his lungs. He tried to breathe, but he was drowning in her orgasm. He lost count of the contraction, trying to cling to consciousness.

Sliding her index finger into her sodden pussy, she felt him grab hold of the sides of her fingernail. Gently she pulled her finger back and him along with it. Slick as he was with her secretions, he eased out of her. Once free, he coughed and took in a breath of air, lying feet toward her feet, his face directly below her seeping sex. She touched herself lightly, slipping a finger back in and coaxing more of her milky cum to leak out. As it trickled out, it dripped down onto his face. He tilted his head back and drank deeply of her essence.

Carefully, she lifted herself off of the bed and smiled back on him, he still lay on his back. A quick flick of her hand and within moments he was returned to his normal size, body awash in her juice. She grinned and jumped back onto him, straddling his hips. She took ahold of his member and guided it to her lubricated pussy. She let out a breath and pushed herself onto the thick cock, feeling it part her and open her up. Moving slowly, she moved her hips forward, then back, taking a little more into her each time until he was fully embedded.

“Wait,” he said breathlessly, putting his hands on her hips to prevent her from moving but it was too late, the sensation too much as he erupted, ejaculating deep inside of her. She closed her eyes, luxuriating in the sensation of his seed pouring into her.

Leaning forward, she put her hands on his shoulders. “Let’s go again,” she said, green eyes dangerous.

He chuckled softly, “Sustenance,” he said. “I need to eat to rebuild my strength, and besides I don’t think there’s an ounce of fluid left in my body.”

She rocked a couple of more times before reluctantly letting him slide free of her.

“We’ll go out for a bite, but I need to shower first,” he said, patting her on the thigh.

She grinned impishly, but let him up.

Clarice driving them, they took a late lunch at Cosmo’s, sitting out on the patio, an umbrella shading them from the afternoon sun. Jack made sure the meal was leisurely, he was still spent from the previous encounter.

She smiled at him from around her straw as she sipped her iced tea. Releasing the straw, smile intact, she said, “When we get back, we are going to pick up where we left off.”

He nodded and smiled before taking a sip of his beer. Never one to back down from a challenge, he did wonder at the depth of her sexual appetite. She was a dynamo, and he was already tired.

“I’m going to ravish you,” she added, not quietly enough. An older couple from the adjoining table turned, looking from her to him.  Setting an obvious age difference, the woman scowled.

“Quality or quantity,” he replied.

The woman at the neighboring table turned again, “Please,” she said under her breath.

Clarice turned to her, “Please? You want some? Maybe if there’s anything left when I’m done,” she said leaning back in her chair.

“Well, I never,” retorted the woman.

“And probably won’t ever,” added Clarice.

Jack shook his head as the woman got up and prompted her male companion to follow. Draining his glass, he set it on the table. “I suppose we should go,” he said.

“About time,” Clarice said.

Jack squared away the bill and together they walked out to her car. “Maybe you should let me drive?” he suggested, standing near the hood of the bright yellow car.

“Nope,” she answered, climbing in.

The drive back was an adventure all unto itself. Eager to get back to his apartment and resume their love play, she drove at breakneck speed, blowing through a red light and two stops signs. When they peeled around the corner onto his street, she slid to a stop in front of his apartment building.

“How the hell did you ever get your license, Jesus Christ!” he said, eyes wide as he hastily clambered out of the car and slammed the door shut.

Clarice made a dismissive noise with her mouth and waved a hand in his direction.

He rounded the nose of the corvette and stepped onto the sidewalk. Suddenly, she turned him to face her, putting her hands on his chest, “You know what? I should get a tattoo!” she exclaimed, eyes bright, an excited expression on her face.

“What do you need a tattoo for?” he asked, placing his hands on her hips.

“Because they’re cool. Hilde has one,” she said.

“I know, I saw it,” he remarked, put on hand on her side where Hilde’s tattoo was situated. “Can’t say the situation gave me much time to inspect the quality of work,” he added sardonically.

Leaning back from him, she put her hands and framed an area near her crotch. “A set of bright red lips, right here,” she said enthusiastically.

“You don’t want a tattoo,” he said, shaking his head.

Standing on the sidewalk as they were, neither Jack nor Clarice really noticed or gave particular attention to the two men approaching until the men stopped a dozen paces or so distant.

One man, appearing to be in his thirties was incredibly slender, bordering on emaciated, his suit hanging off him. His reed-like body made him appear taller than his actual height of six feet. The other man was much younger, very muscular, tight camouflage t-shirt, jeans, an inch or so taller than the slender man.

“Jack, maybe you got a minute?” said the slender man, turning his hand enough for Jack to see a pistol tucked into the waist of his trousers.

Jack recognized the speaker, Jimmy the Pin, the other fellow was unknown to him, but he was also packing a heater.

“Long time Jimmy,” Jack said, stepping toward the man while pushing Clarice behind him some.

The skinny man nodded. “You look good,” he said.

Given the ordeals of late, Jack knew he looked like shit. “You putting on some weight?” he asked, smiling. Jimmy chuckled.

Clarice frowned. “What’s going on here?” she asked, looking from the two men and back to Jack.

“Girlfriend?” Jimmy asked, nodding at Clarice.

“Something like that,” Jack replied.

“We need to go for ride,” Jimmy said, looking back at a silver four door sedan parked up the road a short distance.

“Where?” Jack asked.

“I said, what’s going on?” repeated Clarice, a demanding tone in her voice. Jack tried to shush her with his hand.

“We going for a drive, or we got a specific destination?” Jack asked, the difference being, going for a drive meant getting whacked.

Jimmy smiled, a hollow expression on his gaunt features. “Just get in the car Jack, you been around long enough, you know the drill.”

Clarice stepped around Jack, lips pursed and brow furled, menace danced in her vivid green eyes. Jack suddenly got a very bad feeling. Placing a hand on her arm, she looked at him. He closed his eyes and shook his head slightly.

Jimmy turned, motioning toward the Chevy with the gun wielding hand. “Get in.”

“Tell me where we’re going Jimmy?” Jack repeated, hoping Clarice didn’t just decide to shrink these guys down right out on the street. Besides, he actually liked Jimmy, they had pulled off a couple of successful scores in the past.

Jimmy let out a breath. “Jesus, okay. Grind House. Arvin Traynor is calling the shots from there now, wants a face to face with you there,” he explained. “You going to get in the car now?”

“Little Train?” Jack asked. “Why?”

“Fuck Jack, why are you busting my balls? He wants to talk you on account you and Cyrus had some business, but now Cyrus is gone,” he added.

“Jack,” Clarice said.

“I got no bones with Little Train. He feel the same?” Jack asked.

Jimmy shrugged. “Don’t know, I’m just told to bring you in,” he said.

“Enough of the fucking chit-chat, just get in the fucking car,” said the other man, a snarl in his tone.

Jack frowned. Jimmy raised his free hand. “Pretend you’ve done this before and show a little fucking class Trevor,” Jimmy admonished.

Jack leaned in close to Clarice. “You should leave,” he whispered.

“Fuck that,” she snapped back.

“I don’t give a shit who this old man used to be, Mr. Traynor says we get him, we get him. End of fucking story,” replied Trevor.

Jimmy laughed and shook his head. “Sorry Jack, talent pool has been pretty shallow,” he apologized.

Jack smiled. “Okay, I’ll come, but she gets a pass,” he said, glancing to Clarice then to the Pin.

“Like fuck,” she retorted, turning to meet his gaze. “I go where you go, somebody needs to protect you,” she added.

“It doesn’t matter, bring the bitch, leave her, but we go now,” Trevor growled, pulling the .45 from his pants.

“Did he just call me a bitch?” she asked Jack, before looking at Trevor. “Bitch? Really?” she said.

“C’mon Jack,” Jimmy encouraged, shaking his head. “As far as I know, it’s just supposed to be a sit down.”

Jack nodded. “Ok,” he said. Wrapping an arm around Clarice’s shoulder and began moving toward the car. Clarice sat in the front with Jimmy, while Jack sat with Trevor in the back.

The sage green Aston Martin Vanquish rolled to a stop as Selene watched Jack and Clarice get into the silver car. Strumming her fingers on the steering wheel, she waited for the car to pull out and get some distance ahead before she shifted and pulled out to follow.

Asked and answered

Arvin was older than Jack, but Jack knew who he was, a goon who had climbed up from the ranks to carve out a pretty big piece of territory. Their paths had crossed on a handfuls of occasions, but they had never really had any formal business dealings directly. A lot of people thought they knew the man called Little Train, but Jack understood him better than most. They thought because Arvin was an enforcer, built like a bulldog, he was stupid, but Arvin was anything but. A keen, analytical, razor sharp mind resided behind those narrow pale gray eyes. And as smart as Arvin was, he was twice as ruthless.

Entering the rear of the club, Jimmy led Jack and Clarice to Arvin’s office. Dressed in a shirt and suit pants, Arvin recognized Jack and stood up. Extending his hand, “Good to see you again,” he said.

Aside from Little Train in the office, Jack saw Vince slumped forward in a chair in the corner, hands handcuffed behind his back. The goon had been worked over pretty good, one eye swollen shut and blood all done the front of his white undershirt.

Jack took the offered hand, but looked at Vince, Clarice followed his gaze, eyes widening slightly at the sight of the beaten man

“Just a little housekeeping,” Arvin said dismissively. “Hope these boys behaved themselves,” he added with a smile, looking to Trevor and Jimmy.

Jack shook the hand. “Jimmy and I go back, new kid is an asshole.”

Arvin laughed. “We been recruiting off the streets these days. Bangers think they invented this shit, all little badass wannabes,” he said.

Turning to look at Clarice, he welcomed her with a smile. “You are an absolutely stunning young lady, I love the red streaks in your hair,” he said extending his hand to her.

“Thank you,” she said, taking his hand. He kissed it, she rewarded him with a smile. “Now if only your subordinates possessed your level of manners,” she added, looking directly at Trevor. Trevor sneered back in return.

“A little young isn’t she Jack?” Arvin asked, breaking his gaze from Clarice to look at Jack.

Jack shrugged, “It’s complicated.”

“Where are my manners? Here sit,” Arvin said, pointing at the two chairs in front of the desk. Jack took one, Clarice the other. “I am desperately trying to wrap my head around the goings on here in the last couple weeks and I was hoping maybe you could help enlighten me Jack. First, why don’t you tell me what you and Cyrus had going on?

Jack nodded. “Simple contract. B & E, get in, snatch some goods then get out. But the plan was fucked from the get go, job went way off the rails. Shit went down,” he explained.

“Shit went down? Vince,” Arvin started, looking over at the incapacitated thug, “Tells me Tony was sent along as your lookout, except Tony got iced, and now you’re standing here with this lovely creature,” Arvin finished. “What happened?”

Jack chuckled. “Like I said, shit went down.”

“And it’s complicated,” Arvin commented. “Yeah, I got that. Vince says Cyrus planned on putting you in the ground. You got any idea why would Cyrus want to do that?” he asked.

“Because Cyrus was an asshole. I don’t know who the contract was for, but when it went wrong, he was trying to cut all ties,” Jack answered. “That’s what I think.”

Arvin nodded. “That seems plausible. How come you never showed up for the meeting?”

“I couldn’t, I was otherwise,” he paused, “Indisposed,” Jack answered.

Arvin looked from Jack to Clarice then back, raising his eyebrows. “In flagrante?” he inquired.

Jack shook his head.

“My sister and my cousin,” provided Clarice with a knowing smile. Jack fixed her with a sharp gaze.

Arvin leaned back in the chair. “Do tell young lady,” he encouraged.

“They got the drop on him,” she answered, pleased with herself for using the lingo.

“Your cousin male or female?” he asked.

“She’s female,” she replied.

“That is fucking hilarious. The Hammer gets waylaid by two skirts. That’s one for the ages, almost as funny as Tommy T.,” he said with a chuckle.“So maybe you could tell me how Tony died?”

“I think he was trying to rescue Jack and he tried to attack my sister with a knife, my cousin stopped him,” Clarice answered.

Arvin was well aware of Tony’s penchant for hurting girls, not that it mattered. “Older sister, or younger?”

“A few years older, same as my cousin,” answered Clarice.

“So, first two girls take down the infamous Jack Dalton, the guy who single handedly put the hurt on three of my boys, and then they bump Tony,” he clarified.

Clarice nodded. “That’s about right.”

“And now, he’s here with you on his arm, I don’t understand it,” he said smiling, eyes dangerous.

“I’m not finished with him yet,” she replied, winking at Little Train.

“Sassy little thing. This one may be a keeper,” Arvin said to Jack.

“Back to the subject. So you couldn’t come to the meeting, but three broads show up in your stead, one calling herself Hildegarde. Know anything about?” he asked.

Jack shrugged. Arvin nodded. “You got a reputation for keeping your mouth shut. I respect that, I do. You’re a standup guy. Too many pieces of shit these days start talking the moment they see a badge or their own blood, but not you. So here’s my problem. How did these women not only know about but actually show up for your meeting?” he asked, leaning forward.

How could he possibly explain that Hilde had imitated him and set up the meet? No way that story would ever fly, Jack thought. “I couldn’t tell you what Tony might have said,” he replied, thinking that might sound more feasible.

“There it is! A logical explanation. Sadistic fuck that Tony was, I could see him cracking under the pressure. But I have to make sure. I know I could have you beaten to within an inch of your life and you wouldn’t tell me shit. But if I put a bullet in her tight little tummy or her pretty little head, your story still going to be the same?” he asked, opening the desk drawer and taking out a pistol with a silencer threaded onto it. And setting it on the blotter.

“I wouldn’t do that,” cautioned Jack, eyeing the gun, then Arvin.

There was a knock on the door. “Come,” said Arvin, eyes locked onto Jack’s.

The door opened and the burly bouncer popped his head in. “That cop is out front,” he said.

Arvin smiled. “Go get him,” he said. “An old acquaintance of yours Jack,” he said.

Jack frowned.

Cops and Robbers

Cade arrived at the club, pulling his ghost car into the lot beside an expensive looking sports car. He checked his gun, and entered the club.

He waved off the bartender and nodded to the bouncer who had taken him into the back before. Turning his back to the bar, he turned to look at a pretty little strawberry blonde hanging by her legs from a brass pole, one of five platforms where girls in various states on undress were dancing, but his eyes stopped on a woman seated alone against the wall near the stage. A dark haired woman, dressed in a snug dress, maybe dark purple in color sat at a table, hard to tell in the light, traced her left index finger around the lip of her glass as she too watched the inverted stripper. He wondered if she were a performer, but even in the low light, it was clear to him she clearly outstripped all the talent working on the stages. He didn’t realize he was staring, until she made eye contact and gave him a hint of a smile at the corner of her full mouth. Busted, he looked away. The arrival of the bouncer helped assuage any feelings of awkwardness.

“He says you can go back,” said the big man. “Follow me.”

Cade nodded, a quick glance back at the dark haired woman before following the bigger man into the back and down the hall.

The bouncer knocked lightly on the door, before holding it open for Cade to enter. The ugly feeling he sometimes got into his gut when things might go bad came on full force.

In the room, Arvin, some gorgeous girl who looked too young to be in such a club, a stick, a juice monkey, and of course Jack Dalton.

“Not everybody knows everybody,” Arvin said. “Jack this is Cade, Cade this is Jack, but I know you two go way back. Jimmy, Trevor,” he said, nodding at each respectively. “The mass in the corner is Vince.” He paused at Clarice, “Sorry beautiful, I didn’t get your name,” he said.

“Clarice,” she provided.

“Clarice,” Arvin repeated. “Jack’s girlfriend.”

Cade nodded, “Jack,” he said, eyes catching sight of the silenced gun on the desk. The bad feeling in his gut just got worse.

“Detective McKissik. Cade,” Jack said, “You’re a piece of shit, you cost me two years of my goddamn life,” tone even and calm.

“Tell me you weren’t involved in the Wells Fargo robbery and I’ll apologize,” replied the cop.

“That’s beside the point,” countered Jack.

“It’s not beside the point, you were fucking nuts deep in that job,” growled Cade.

“But you couldn’t prove it!” Jack retorted.

“This is all very entertaining,” Arvin said, bringing his hands together in front of his face. “Watching this reunion unfold and I’m sure the two of you have a lot to work out, but there are other matters at hand. For the sake of brevity, let me bring you up to speed Cade,” Arvin said. “Jack here was just telling me he knows nothing about this woman Hildegarde showing up for his meeting at the club, and I was just threatening to shoot this incredibly pretty little girl in her belly to make sure he wasn’t holding anything back.” He looked around the room, “That about sum it up?” he asked.

Trevor nodded. Jimmy just shook his head.

“Jack?” Arvin asked.

“Yeah, that about sums it up,” he answered.

“Ok then,” he said, closing his hand around the pistol. The bullet hit Clarice in the lower left quadrant of her abdomen tearing into her flesh, a gout of red blood spewing from the hole left by its passing.

“Jack,” she said, eyes wide in surprise.

“Jesus!” yelled Jack, jumping out of his chair to clamp his hand over Clarice’s gunshot wound.

Arvin stood up, gun leveled at Cade. The cop, hand inside his jacket froze, hand so close to his own gun. Arvin smiled and used the gun to get Cade to take his hand out from within the suit jacket. “Trevor, get the cop’s gun,” he instructed. “Wouldn’t him doing anything foolish with it.”

The young hood nodded. Walking over, he took the Smith & Wesson from Cade. Once he had it out, he turned it from side to side before cracking the policeman across the mouth with it, drawing blood.

Arvin chuckled, “Who saw that coming? He may be an asshole, but he’s got some go-getter in him.”

“Are you fucking insane!” Jacked yelled looking back at Arvin, desperately trying to stem the flow of crimson through his fingers.

“I wouldn’t? Is that what you said to me Jack?” Arvin asked, he looked around. “I did. Now what?”

Turning back to Clarice, “Hang in there sweetheart,” Jack encouraged.

“It burns,” Clarice said, looking down at Jack’s bloody hands, then to his face, her eyes were welling up.

“Now you’re going to fucking tell me the whole fucking story, or I swear to Christ the next one goes into her head,” Arvin snapped. He turned his head to Cade, “And I’ll be needing that address we spoke about earlier,” he said.

“It’s going to be okay,” Jack said voice quavering, sliding his hand around Clarice’s side to see if the bullet came out her back. It did, her blood draining out the exit wound into the chair.

Clarice smiled weakly then closed her eyes.