linxy - part V
She jumped on me almost immediately, pounding into my chest and arms with weak little girl punches, the heel of the hand. I just grabbed her by the shoulders and sat her back down.
"Sit still," I said, but she jumped up again, "sit still or you'll end up hurt."
"Let me out of this fucking car you cock sucker," she hissed, with as much evil a little blonde girl can muster. I laughed at her and reached down for my bag, enduring her 'beating' on my back. "What are you doing? Let me out of here."
I pulled the syringe out, filled it from the little glass bottle of Diazepam and squirted some of the creamy white drug out the top. It dripped onto her jeans and that drove her crazy. She started pounding on the tinted windows, struggling with the handles. I grabbed her elbow and pulled her onto my lap, trying to straighten and hold her arm still. It was to no avail, she was a thrasher. The nice thing about the Mercedes 400 series is the expansive leg room in the back. I put my nose in her hair, breathed in the scent of her shampoo, her soap. It was lilacs I think.
"Let go of me," she insisted once again, her waist twisting back and forth against my forearm. I squeezed her tighter and pulled her against my chest. Before she could say anything I jabbed the needle into her neck and she screamed. The injections hurt like a bitch. They ache. When she jerked her head back towards me I had to quickly draw the needle out to keep her from breaking it off. That made her scream again. She started sobbing as blood rushed to the wound under the surface of her skin, spreading into a dark, ugly bloom. I wasnšt sure if it was going to work. I'd never given it to a girl in the neck. She continued wailing and rocking back in forth.
"Oh, I love to hear that...don't you Steak?" I said, laughing.
She turned around and stared at me, tears in her eyes. She looked as if I'd betrayed her, and I didn't even know her name. Her bottom lip was pouted out a bit, trembling. A bruise was forming on her neck; Henry was going to be PISSED. When she spoke I could feel her words as warm puffs of air on my cheek.
"What did you do?" She choked out, and then she slumped down against my shoulder, her hand flopping onto my leg, palm up. Just to be safe, I cuffed her arms behind her back, shut her mouth with some silver duct tape and covered her eyes with a blindfold so she couldnšt see where I was taking her. For the brief ride to the house I stretched her out and let her head rest in my lap.
Steak pulled the car around back and I tried to throw her over my shoulder to take her upstairs.
"Holy"
"You need help?" He grunted.
"Stupid back," I said. "Yeah. Can you carry her upstairs?"
He swung her over his shoulder in one quick swoop and laughed at me all the way up the stairs.
"Some street tough you are, Linxy. Don't hurt me! I've got a bad back. I'm fragile. My vagina hurts." He was vastly entertained by his own jokes.
"Listen, Slappy. Call Forester and tell him I got her. We need the doctor to come see her. I want this to go through in a snappy fashion."
Her hair brushed against my chest as we made our way up to the bedroom. We trudged up the stairs, Steak dropped her on the bed on her back and left without a word. The shackle was open and ready for her ankle. One of her shoes must have been lost in the car.
"That's a nice cologne," she muttered, eyes still closed. "But I have to work."
The words slurred together as I flipped her onto her back and unbuttoned her jeans. She was wearing miniscule yellow satin panties that I decided were too cute to be burned. They currently live in my nightstand.
"Cold," she said. I pulled her purse off of her shoulder and opened up the wallet. Olivia Butler. She'd made about $150 in tips that night. I pocketed the cash.
"Olivia." I said quietly.
"I'm in the weeds," she answered in a mumbling whisper.
Her tongue flicked out over her lips. I threw the purse aside and pulled off her tight red t-shirt and yellow bra. I'd never seen tits like hers, so full and heavy, but definitely real, with rosy pink nipples that stood straight up. I just stared at her, the birthmark on her stomach, the muscular, lean legs, the shape of her collar bone. There was a scar under her rib cage, very pale and straight, almost three inches long. Her hair was in a ponytail that I quickly took out, leaving a rippling dent in her otherwise straight, shiny hair. She rolled onto her side and curled up.
"Come on Olivia, we've got to get you dressed and then you can sleep." I pulled her to a sitting position and slipped the nightgown over her head. She flopped backwards and I fastened the shackle to her ankle.
"That's heavy." I smiled at her voice. She sounded like a kid, a little girl. Once she was settled in I went downstairs to catch the rerun of SportsCenter.
A smooth transaction, and in three days she'd be gone.