*Author's Note*
Part nine. Hopefully, this part goes over a bit better than the last part.
Thanks to all of you who have stuck with me so far.
Remember,
all
comments, graciously accepted!
Enjoy!
******
So... Max and Jason. They were part of my unit, in the Gulf. We are like brothers, to this day.
Both of them finished college when we got back, and are now running a very prominent IT Security business in Denver. They know shit that will curl your toes, make your hair fall out, and scare you into religion.
Honest to God.
Anyhow, during the 'Morgan' thing, when I called them to come back my play in Florida, they didn't even hesitate. Why? They're sorta in the same business - but from a much different angle. Max's girlfriend is a
very
high-end hooker. The kind of people she fucks, are the kind you don't want to piss off. Some of them are Max's clients. Discretion is very key to what Belinda does.
In their case, Max and Jason are also enforcers - to an extent. Thing is, they are there to protect the girls -
not
intimidate them and ensure they keep working. It's a very special bunch that they have recruited, and they intend to protect their investment. If, however, one of them wants to quit, all they need to do is tell Belinda. The kind of money they are making, is such that, there seems to be an endless stream of college co-eds that are ready to take their turn.
When I tell Max and Belinda about Meghan, they get excited. Belinda wants to recruit her immediately, but I slow her down. I explain that we need to test her, to see how she is going to respond, before we go that far. I also add, that if it goes the way I expect, she won't have to do much recruiting.
The plan is, two weeks from now, I will bring her to one of the more upscale hotels in Denver, give her a room number, and send her on her way. She won't know there are two guys waiting on her. It's a test. Jason and Max are both going to use her - roughly - for about two hours. If she survives it, we'll know. If she cracks and loses it, I'll get her out of the building and back home.
Honestly, I have not a single doubt how it's going to end.
******
I'm sitting in my living room, thinking. About Polly. Her attitude about things - sex, and our relationship - seems to have changed as well.
Polly has been acting a bit rebellious of late, and has started dressing in a ridiculously provocative manner. This morning, Reggie texted me an image of what she was wearing to school - and I damn near freaked. In the image she is wearing an extremely short, red plaid, pencil skirt, held up by only two buttons, and with a side opening that goes damn near all the way up to her hip. The top is even worse. It matches the skirt, has long sleeves, and ends immediately under her tits. There are three buttons on it as well, but Polly is only using two of them. And, it's obvious she isn't wearing a bra. She has black platform shoes, and black thigh-high stockings, that barely make it up under her skirt. If she was going clubbing and was trying to advertise, I would understand - but there's no way this outfit belongs on a college campus. It's almost as if she is trying to follow in Meghan's footsteps.
I, on the other hand, am beginning to feel like I've created a monster. I also get the feeling she is perhaps trying to taunt someone in to giving her what I told her I wouldn't. The thought of how quickly that situation could go south, makes me shudder.
Knowing she is out of class at noon today, I grab my phone and send her a text message, asking her to come over so we can talk. She instantly shoots back a text telling me she doesn't need anymore lectures. I think about it for a moment, then tell her that if she doesn't come to me, I will come to her, and she probably won't like the results of the second option. To my stunned amazement, all I get back is
'yeah, right'
.
Time to fix this shit.
I go over to the Patterson house, knock on the door, and a damn near nude Meghan answers.
"Which room is Polly's?" I all but demand, pushing the door open, and going in.
"Second door on the left," she replies, closing the door, stepping out of my way, and pointing down the hall.
I glance down the hall, then turn and make eye contact with her.
"When your smart-ass little sister gets here, some shit is going to happen. You might not want to hear or see it. If you chose to stay, you had damn sure better keep your mouth shut, and stay out of it. Understood?"
"Uh huh," she replies, a look of confusion covering her face.
"Good. Nice tits, by the way," I say, reaching out and squeezing one of her nipples.
"OUCH!" She let's go of the tooth brush in her mouth, and slugs me in the arm.
"Is Polly in trouble for some reason?"
"She damn sure is."
"What are you gonna do?"
When I turn and glare at her, she gets the message.
"Sorry I asked. You wouldn't actually hurt her... would you?"
Again, all I give her in response, is a glare.
"shit..."
she mumbles.
"Go about your business, and don't interfere. This is between me and her."
"Lucas..."
I point down the hall, in the direction of the bathroom, which based on the tooth brush, is where I figure she came from. She goes quiet, and after a few seconds, goes that way. I follow her, going on to the door to Polly's room and opening it. I strip the bed of everything except the sheets, pull the bottle of lube out of my pocket, and put it on her nightstand.
Then, I hear the car in the driveway.
I go back to the front door, and when it opens, there stands Polly - and a guy. The look on her face is priceless. The look on the guy's face is pretty much comical.
"You," I point at him, "get your ass back in your car, and go. Now."
He stands looking at me for a couple of seconds, not at all sure what to think.
"This isn't your fucking house, Lucas."
I ignore Polly, and again make eye contact with the guy.
"Now."
"You can't do this, you asshole!"
Polly blurts out, as she reaches out and tries to hit me.
The guy never says a word. He just turns and disappears.
I grab her around the throat, pin her against the closet door next to us, and close the front door.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
