Jason opened his eyes, feeling like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, or perhaps from his crotch would be more accurate. He certainly felt lighter, or at least less frustrated. He couldn't hear anything from his phone, so he must have woken up before his alarm.
He stared at the ceiling, replaying the events of the previous night. Actually, there was only one event on his mind: Samantha's blowjob. He felt...OK with it, he was finding.
He had needed release and she provided it without reservation. Something still didn't feel right about it to Jason, though it had less to do with the blowjob specifically and more with the larger situation he was finding himself in. Everything happened so easily and casually, he could feel that there was something unusual lurking just below the surface. Maybe there was some aftereffect from whatever Dr. Davis was doing that was still at play.
Jason reached over to his nightstand and pulled the drawer out to see the crystal, the whorestone, still sitting in it, nestled into a corner. According to Desiree its effects wore off after the victim slept, so it shouldn't be having any further impact.
But what if Desiree was lying? What if Dr. Davis had somehow found a way around that limitation? There were so many possibilities and Jason was wading into a dark sea of unknown variables.
As these thoughts rolled around in his head the alarm on his phone went off and it began playing music.
"Here comes the sun," the lyrics began. "Here comes the sun, and I say, it's alright."
"Hmph," Jason grunted, sitting up on his bed before turning off the alarm.
"You're right, George Harrison, the sun is coming," he commented, looking at the morning light coming through the window blinds. Filled with an odd sense of optimism, Jason stood up and began going about the business of starting his day.
It didn't occur to him that George Harrison wrote 'Here Comes the Sun' as a song of false hope, about a good day that only delayed inevitable and painful events, long in the making, that would change his life forever.
***
"Wha-" Victor asked, bleary eyed as he was torn from his sleep by the loud banging on his motel room door. He blinked several times, adjusting to the morning light sneaking in between the closed shades.
Another round of loud knocking caused Victor to throw his blankets off and jump to his feet. He grumbled to himself as he stomped to the door.
"What?" he asked the moment he opened it, a rasp in his voice. It wasn't until after the word left his mouth that he registered that it was Elise knocking on his door, another black suit on, though she had exchanged the skirt for pants. She was still wearing those sunglasses.
"It's time we started," she said in lieu of a greeting.
"Really?" he asked, incredulous. "You arrived here at, what, two in the afternoon yesterday?" he continued even as she stepped past him into the motel room. "We had plenty of time to start, but you wanted to laze about in your hotel."
Elise sighed before sitting on the desk next to the TV. "Close the door, will you?"
Victor complied with the request before sitting down on the nearer bed. For a moment the two stared at each other, silent.
"I wasn't lazing about," Elise said, breaking the quiet. "I needed time to...recover from my flight. Regardless, now is the time to start the job we were both sent here to do."
"Find this Reginald Davis and kill him," Victor replied.
"That's your part of the job," Elise commented. "Mine is to recover a valuable item he stole from the boss, and I need him alive until I've done so."
"Hm," Victor grunted in response. "Then for the time being we settle for finding Reginald Davis."
"How would we go about doing that?" Elise asked. "That falls more under your area of expertise than mine."
Victor stood and walked over to where his jacket hanged next to the door. He took his crystal out of the pocket and held it in the palm of his hand, showing it to Elise without lighting it up. "We just need to get this to the right person," he said.
***
"Morning, Des," Mavis said between bites of cereal as Desiree into the kitchen.
"Morn," Des barely managed to vocalize, her uncombed hair standing on end in all different kinds of directions. She walked to the fridge, shoulders slumped.
"Rough night?" Mavis asked, watching the younger woman.
"Long night," Desiree responded.
"What kept you up?" Mavis pressed. "I hope it wasn't one of those nightmares again."
"No," Desiree answered before pulling a carton of orange juice out of the fridge
"Want to tell me about it?" Mavis asked, meaning well by the question.
Desiree held up a finger in the 'wait one moment' pose as she started slamming the juice down her parched throat.
"Ah," she let out once she'd had her fill, wiping away a dribble of drink that had managed to come down the wrong side of her lips. "Is Master here?" she asked.
"No, he and Sam already left," Mavis answered.
Desiree nodded before taking another sip of orange juice. She swallowed before she continued the conversation.
"Then I can go ahead and tell you that Sam made progress with Master last night," she said as she screwed the cap back onto the carton. "He asked her for a blowjob."
"Oh, that's great!" Mavis exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "Things are looking up for us!"
"Uhm-hm," Desiree responded with a nod.
"When did Sam tell you?" Mavis asked.
"Last night," Desiree answered, hoping to keep details to herself.
"Oh, well, why didn't she tell me?" Mavis asked.
"It was late," Desiree answered quickly. "We didn't want to wake you," she added to try pad out her response. She then unscrewed the cap on the orange juice and started drinking from the carton again in the hopes that it would keep Mavis from digging deeper. If the older woman knew the full story Desiree was sure that would lead to some unintended consequences.
"Hm..." Mavis hummed, fixing Desiree with a look as she studied the blonde. But any observation she might have offered were pushed down the priority list by the sound of someone knocking on the front door.
Desiree hurriedly dropped the orange juice from her lips, sharing confused looks with Mavis. "Did Sam or Master forget something?" she asked.
