Chapter 49(M/F, MMF/F, bond, ncon, setup)
For the last leg of the journey, Steve took over driving duties. As good as Bubbles was with his truck over the last hour, she was a little skittish about parking something as big as a RAM quad cab with an extended bed. This truck was not designed for small parking spaces. It was designed for work, showing off how impressive it is, and distracting the rest of the world from the owner’s small penis. Though in Steve’s case, he genuinely uses the vehicle for work and not penile enhancement.
It was about 4:30PM when they arrived at the hotel. Sam checked in using the fake name he was given to use by Bob, Buderick Bundy. Apparently Bob was a Married with Children fan back in the day. After a smooth check-in, the three of them moved their luggage into the hotel. One advantage to being in a hotel in the middle of the woods with ample hunting grounds nearby was that no one batted an eye at the veritable arsenal they brought with them.
When they arrived in their room, they saw a little gift basket from room service waiting for them, along with fresh flowers in a vase. The card was addressed to Bubbles, from Bob. “I look forward to having the pleasure of hosting you and Sam on my yacht boat yacht tonight at 9PM.” It was signed Bob and smelled like perfume. Bubbles and Sam knew they were going to meet Bob for a business meeting, but this removed any hidden subtext from the operation. 9PM was late, and everyone was starving. Since Steve didn’t have any perfume-laden invitations of his own, he decided to pick up dinner for everyone while Sam grabbed some extra supplies from the nearby shops.
Meanwhile, Bubbles stayed behind and touched up her hair and applied the temporary tattoos all over her body. She knew the risk she was putting herself in tomorrow, and her best hope of getting away was disguising herself. She’d have the pink hair curled up, the fake tats on her arms, legs, neck, and chest, and the green contact lenses. Even if she used her real name, everything was so fake about her that she doubted they’d even believe Kim was her name when everything was said and done. Still, if she did decide on a fake name, she’d need to settle on it and get into character before too long.
Plus, she wanted to dress to impress for tonight’s dinner. If this Bob character was half as charming as he was ruthless all those years ago, then she’d gladly fuck him. She had done a little research on him over the last couple days about his actions in the past decades and he was an interesting character, to say the least. It wasn’t that she was attracted more to men or women, but personalities and spirits. She preferred women on a physical level more than men, but would sleep with men when the desire came up, there was something to gain, or there was a special connection. Sam fit most of those checkboxes and they shared something special, but they also weren’t exclusive. From what she’s learned of Bob, he can be charming and suave one moment, and a killer the next. Literally. To be so tied down to world while being above it at the same time, it excited her.
Yeah, she was getting laid tonight. She just hoped Sam wouldn’t make things weird. Then again, he can make weird pretty sexy.
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‘What does one get when having a meeting with their first crime boss? Are flowers appropriate? Candy? A fancy handgun? A bottle of booze? What if he’s a recovering alchy? I should do some research.’ Sam had a hundred thoughts going through his head as he hit up the various shops around the resort. They had their main supplies for the weekend, but he needed to make sure they didn’t forget anything. Nothing like tying up four women to realize there wasn’t enough rope. Which, he made sure to get enough rope.
Sam asked around as discreetly as he could to see if Big Bobby K liked to drink. It didn’t take long to get a resounding yes. Sam decided to get Bob a nice bottle of whiskey, a single malt aged 12 years. It was expensive enough to show respect but not crazy expensive that a car would be cheaper. A few hundred dollars for a bottle should do the trick.
Sam’s shopping cart looked like he was ready for a hunting trip. Rope, zip ties, scissors, a tent, some extra socks, ammo, lighters, and the like. Of course all of it was expensive, but that’s the price to pay for last minute shopping at a resort.
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As Steve walked down the street by the resort, he received a text from Sam. Joe and Mari would be in soon, and could he grab them something to eat as well. After a little back and forth, he picked up a small party platter from Hook’s. It was only after he had his hands full of food that he saw them approaching from down the road.
James and Tommy. And a gaggle of others. It was the women he’s supposed to rape tomorrow.
Steve turned on his heel and went the other way, as fast as he could. He almost ran into a small family as they walked down the road, looking at the various sights and sounds. When he slowed down a few seconds later, he turned to look. Tommy was leading everyone inside of Hook’s.
Steve sighed. A moment later, and he was busted. He walked back to the hotel, food in hand.
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Joe and Mari pulled into the parking lot a little after 7PM, rested and rejuvinated. It’s funny how relaxing and fast a drive can be when there aren’t 3 kids in the back fighting or screaming or needing to pee every 20 minutes. They arrived calm and happy.
It took a few minutes to walk to the hotel and their room. When they arrived, they were greeted by an Asian woman with pink hair covered in tattoos. They looked at each other, confused for a moment, waiting for the other to speak their recognized confusion into existence.
“Is Sam around?” Joe asked. He was pretty sure this was Bubbles in front of him, but wasn’t 100% until she spoke.
“Yeah, he’ll be back in a few minutes. C’mon in. Dinner’s on its way.” Sam and Mari entered, and the door closed behind them. Once everyone was in the room, they made their introductions. Just as Joe thought, this was Bubbles. Surprisingly, he hadn’t met her in person yet. Sam and Joe were best friends for 20 years but it wasn’t until recently that Sam and Bubbles started going out in public with each other as a quasi-couple outside of their little circle, and Joe’s been super busy the last few months. Now that everyone in the room was part of the Club, meeting each other wasn’t as frowned upon as before.
Sam returned a few minutes later and brought his supplies with him. Steve must’ve been on the next elevator as he was hot on Sam’s footsteps, and a little panicked. He told them that he almost ran into James and them by accident. They agreed that except for Sam and Bubbles’s meeting with Bob, the rest would stay in or near the hotel for the rest of the night. Besides, it would give them a chance to plan things out.
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Bubbles and Sam made the short walk from the hotel over to the marina shortly before 9PM. They were both dressed well, especially Bubbles. While Sam wore a long-sleeved teal button-up with the cuffs rolled up and a pair of shorts and dock shoes he found from Tommy Bahama, Bubbles wore a fuchsia skater dress with silver pumps. Her long pink hair was curled, and she looked every bit a million bucks.
“How you think this is gonna go?” She asked Sam as they walked to the pier.
“Not a clue. You know he wants to fuck you, right?” Sam said, a note of concern creeping into his voice.
“Gee, ya think? Never got that impression, not from the flowers or any of the conversations with him where he said he wanted to fuck my brains out.” She was as sarcastic as she was beautiful. Sam still looked worried. They stopped before getting to the pier, Bubbles putting her hand on his arm then grabbing his hand. “Listen, we’re all adults here. If he’s half as charming as his reputation precedes him to be, I was probably gonna fuck him anyway. Hopefully this is just a business meeting but if it gets out of hand, we’ll play it cool. Besides, if you can get something out of this, he gets what he wants, and I get what I want, everyone wins.”
“And what’s that?” Sam asked.
Bubbles paused for a moment before responding. “Three things from my bucket list. Fucking a serial killer, fucking a really rich dude and fucking on a yacht.”
Sam paused, and looked at her quizzically. “What the hell else is on your bucket list?”
“Starting a riot, shit in the Grand Canyon, skydive naked, and trip someone during the running of the Bulls.” Bubbles saw the look on Sam’s face and comforted him. “I’m kidding on that last one. I don’t like running that far. Hey, we still have us and will still have each other when this is over. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
“You’re awesome.” Sam said to Bubbles. It was the closest they’d gotten to saying ‘I love you’ since they became a quasi-couple.
Bubbles kissed him. “You’re pretty good yourself.” She checked his mouth for any lipstick, then did a quick check of her own with her compact before getting to the pier. A tall, skinny man stood there blocking them.
“Mr. Mapleton, Ms. Park, welcome.” They were caught off guard. Bob had their real names. The man opened a box lined with black felt. “Please deposit your cell phones, smart watches, any electronics you have on your person.” Sam put his phone in the box. Bubbles followed with her phone and watch. “Mr. Kuntzmann is waiting for you above deck.” He motioned past him. Sam and Bubbles made their way past him to the first and only boat docked at this pier, the Ballbuster Deluxe VIII. Sam guided Bubbles as she climbed on board and up the step ladder onto the main deck. One of Bob’s men unmoored the boat as soon as they were both on the main deck.
“Welcome aboard! Grab a drink, grab a slice, and grab something to hold on to.” Bob said as the boat lurched forward, heading towards the middle of the lake. As they disappeared from shore, the only illumination was the half-moon above. Bob stuck his hand out to shake Sam’s. “Bob Kuntzmann, most people call Bob.”
Sam grabbed the hand and shook back. “Sam Mapleton.”
Bubbles extended her hand. “Kim Park, but you can call me Bubbles.”
Bob took her hand and kissed it. “A true pleasure to meet you. Please, sit, grab a bite. We’re almost to our destination. I don’t like being too close to the shore when discussing business with someone for the first time.” Bob said as he piloted the yacht.
Sam and Bubbles sat down, Sam still holding his gift of 12-year-old Whiskey. “Wasn’t sure if I should bring anything, so I brought some whiskey.”
“Thank you. Don’t know what you like, so I had the chef’s make a couple different pizzas. There’s a Margherita, a shredded kangaroo steak and caramelized onions with balsamic glaze, and potato and prosciutto. Highly recommend all three. The kangaroo is a little leaner than beef, but works great on a pizza. If you want to bust open that bottle, go ahead.” Sam and Bubbles checked out the pizzas. It wasn’t what they expected for dinner on a yacht, but they had very little previous experience to go off of. Sam started with the kangaroo while Bubbles went for the potato and prosciutto. Sam was impressed.
“This is good. Where do you get kangaroo around here?”
“The local zoo’s security is very lax nowadays.” Bob said. Bubbles laughed. “Just kidding, there’s a farm nearby and they’re becoming a nuisance. They’re all cute and shit until one of them decides to kick you in the dick. I enjoyed eating that sumbitch.” Bob stopped the boat, their forward momentum slowed to a crawl. “Here we are.” Bob said, turning off the engine. He sat down next to them, and poured three glasses.
Over dinner, the three of them learned a little about each other. Bob admitted to being a fan of Bubbles’s work on the Club’s site, while Bubbles admitted she became a big fan of Bob’s ‘early work’, according to the sites she read and such. She had to ask if the stories were true. “I haven’t checked if you’re wearing a wire yet, but they’re as true as you want them to be.” Bob took a sip of his whiskey. “Which, by the way, you aren’t wearing wires, are you?”
“Nope.” Bubbles said.
“Not me.” Sam replied.
Bob nodded. “Good, hate to have to leave new friends out here if you were. We’re at least a mile, mile and a half from shore so you’d have to be a world-class swimmer to get back.” Bob cracked a smile that scared Sam and intrigued Bubbles. “So, business. I have an opportunity for you two. Mostly Sam, but you might have a role in it too, Bubs. How much have you been paying attention to the housing situation down in and around Harbor City?”
Sam almost coughed. The housing situation was bad for regular people but great for him. Rents were rising, property was flying off the market driving up values, and anything he offloaded was gone in a week. The biggest problem was out of towners coming in and screwing things up.
“It’s pretty hot, but there’s too many groups from out of town buying up everything they can get their hands on. Why you ask?” Sam asked.
“I want to get in on some fresh projects in Harbor City, but my past disallows me from working down there. I need a proxy. I’d like those proxies to be you.”
“Us?” Bubbles asked.
“Yes. Once I found out who you were, I knew that we had some things in common, least of which is our…after school activities. We’re both in the building business of sorts, we’re both used to getting our hands dirty to solve problems. But where I can’t go, you have free reign.”
“And you need us to be your face down in Chester County?” Sam asked, biting on another slice of kangaroo pizza.
“Exactly. See, I pretty much own Hiawatha County at this point but I can’t do any work down South. It’s a very long story.”
“Does it involve That Mother Fucker?” Bubbles asked. Bob raised his eyebrows.
“Yes it does. James tell you about him?”
“A little. He gave a quick primer on you after rumors started about an offering that was vetoed. The rest I found on the web, put 2 and 2 together.” Bubbles responded to Bob’s query.
“Let’s just say there’s many reasons I don’t work down there anymore, and That Mother Fucker is responsible for most of them.” Bob said, pausing to take a sip of whiskey. “So, terms. You two and I work together. Set up some companies to keep my name as far away from this as possible. I provide most of the capital, you do the work. The shares are split based off how much you invest in each project. You don’t chip anything in, you don’t get much back. We go close to halfsies, you get more.”
“What kind of projects?” Sam asked.
“Mostly affordable housing, lower rent apartments, duplex conversions in nice neighborhoods, shit like that. I want to put blacks and minorities in white neighborhoods, a little bit of reverse gentrification. My old neighborhood was pretty much gutted by hipsters and NIMBY fucks that immediately destroyed the culture and flavor of the town. They shut down the local shoe shop, turned it into a vegan bakery. Also, there’s money to be had.” Bob took another sip of whiskey before continuing. “Mapleton Realty has a reputation for affordable housing so you expanding your footprint makes sense. No one will really question an outside investor coming in to help you, nor would anyone doubt that you have the capital or ability to raise capital for a building project.” Bob said, before taking a sip of whiskey.
Sam looked at him for a moment, his business sense flashing a warning. “There’s something you’re not telling us. What is it?”
Bob smiled that toothy grin of his. “I knew I’d like you. You smell something a little off. Let’s just say that the money isn’t coming from me or my direct companies, but from alternative sources that…at some point in the process, we kind of lost the receipts.”
“It’s laundered. You want us to launder your money into an investment so you can recoup it.” Bubbles said in a flat tone. He just nodded.
“Pretty much. I’m doing all I can up here in Hiawatha county, but the real future is down in the city and Chester County. White people are moving into black neighborhoods, pushing black people out. They move out to the suburbs, and the Republican whites move further and further out until they hit the surrounding counties, including here. I can control this place, but I can’t control Harbor City. I don’t have a say in the matter. You, you Sam, you have a say, you just don’t know it yet. We’re gonna build affordable housing and make a fuckton of money doing it. What’dya say?” Bob stared at Sam, nodding along. He waited for Sam to speak up, but it was Bubbles that said something first.
“There’s a lot of risk on all sides. What’s the split?” She asked, playing with the glass in her hand.
Bob smiled again, and pointed at everyone, going from himself to Sam to Bubbles. “60/35/5 on a project with equal funding. Ratio changes if I’m putting in all the money.”
“50/40/10.” Sam replied. He felt the first offer would be fair, but he knew the first rule of every negotiation was counteroffer. Accepting the first offer insulted everyone in the process.
“55/35/10, but I want something in exchange for that extra 5%.” Bob said, giving Bubbles a look that has gotten him laid more times than his lawyers would care to count.
She leaned over, put her hand on his knee, and slowly let her hand wander up his leg. “I think we have ourselves a deal.”
“Excellent. I’ll have my lawyers start the paperwork next week and we’ll get the ball rolling. To PKMS Development. Or whatever you decide to call it.” Bob raised his glass, the others raised theirs, clanking in cheers, before they downed them.
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Whatever implications there were about how the night would go between Bob and Bubbles were replaced by action and activity. Bob’s boat has two bedrooms on the lower deck. In the bow is a king-sized bed, which Bob uses as his personal space when he’s on the boat. In the stern was another bedroom, with a queen-sized bed. After one more round of drinks and some heavy flirting then eventually petting and kissing and grinding between Bubbles and Bob, they headed down to his room. Bob offered Sam the rear cabin. “There’s some entertainment in there to keep you company. Just in case this happened this way. No permanent damage, I need to return her soon.” The thought intrigued Sam, but he wanted to finish his glass before going downstairs. He wanted to finish his drink before taking the chance of seeing his girlfriend fuck a crime boss.
In Bob’s bedroom, he and Bubbles stripped each other like it was a race. Bob had found out a long time ago that money and power is a better cologne than Axe or Curve will ever make. He peeled off her dress, admiring all of her tattoos. She pointed out they were temporary, needed for tomorrow’s mission. He stripped her out of her pink bra and matching panties, then kissed her all the way down her body and down to her freshly shaven vagina. He kissed and licked her for several minutes, enjoying her intoxicating musk. As she was on the brink of an orgasm, they switched into a 69 with her on top. It didn’t take Bob long in that position to make her cum, and as soon she regained her senses, she mounted him.
“Tell me what it’s like.” Bubbles said, moving up and down on Bob’s cock.
“What what’s like?” He grabbed her hips, guiding her movements.
“To kill.” The silence hung in the air, only separated by their heavy breathing.
“Only if you tell me what’s it like to rape your girlfriend.”
This was gonna be the strangest pillow talk ever.
When Sam made his way downstairs, he wasn’t sure what to expect. ‘Entertainment downstairs, need to return her.’ Sam figured that Bob might have had a call girl or escort in there, probably on standby. What he saw instead was a beautiful naked young woman, handcuffed to the bed. She had long brunette hair, a ring gag in her mouth, and the words ‘Fuck Toy’ and ‘Free Use Cunt’ written on her. He saw a whiteboard with something written on it.
‘Hi, I’m Madelyn Kosar. I’ve been very bad. My parents aren’t being nice, but maybe if I’m punished, they’ll see fit to do the right thing. Please, use me sir. Or Ma’am. They say I need to eat more pussy and ass to mouth to be a good girl again. P.S. Use protection and wear a mask’
She looked up at him with fear in her eyes. Sam smiled. He could see a camera in the corner. He knew the name Kosar from work. They ran a construction business that specialized in building shitty, overpriced condos in poor neighborhoods. He could see why she was here.
Madelyn thrashed around as Sam stripped and climbed in the bed, only wearing one of the masks by the bed. He was on her and in her in less than a minute, savoring her cries and pleas through her gag. He fucked her pussy just long enough to enjoy the feeling, but knew that the sign had a great suggestion. He soon pulled out of her twat and started pounding away at her ass. She cried a glorious cry. Thank fuck they were on a boat in the middle of the lake.
As he pulled out of her ass, he climbed on the bed and grabbed her hair tightly. The ring gag held her mouth open as he shoved his dick in her mouth, forcing her to taste her own ass as he came in her mouth. After cumming, there was a knock on the door. It was Bubbles, and she was naked.
“Hey, could we borrow your pet?” She asked, looking sexy as hell.
“Sure, grab a mask and come on over.” Bubbles and Bob both masked up for the camera, and all three spent the next hour degrading poor Madelyn. She went ass to mouth once more and was forced to eat Bubbles’s pussy until the Asian woman came twice. All this while being raped and abused by Bob and Sam. Even out of all of it, the loudest screams came when Bubbles attached binder clips to Madelyn’s nipples and clit.
They all enjoyed their fun thoroughly for that hour, until they returned to shore. After all, they had a big day coming up.
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“Really bro? You have one of the best seafood places in the state, and you get chicken?” Joe said as he had some of his chicken fried rice.
“It was part of the family meal. For them family means that picky kids will be there, so might as well not even waste the good fish on them, give those little fuckers the nuggets and let’s put some chicken fried rice in there because perch fried rice isn’t that common.” Steve said, drinking a bottle of water and typing on his phone.
“Would’ve been delicious. I’d eat that.” Joe said.
“Same.” Chimed in Mari.
“So, let’s break this down one more time.” Joe said, between bites of chicken fried rice left over from dinner a couple hours back. “Just so there’s no confusion.” He looked around the hotel suite. It was a two-bedroom room with a spare couch and a chair. He sat on the edge of one bed while Steve sat on another. Mari, Joe’s wife, sat in a chair eating fried fish and French fries with some hush puppies and coleslaw. Steve had a similar meal to Mari’s. After a finishing his current bite, he spoke.
“You two arrive and go full Karen on everyone, piss them off, tell them you have keys to the cabin and they’re in the wrong place. You’ll call the desk and bitch but it’s not the front desk, it’s one of our guys. They’ll call back every fifteen minutes. When you don’t pick up twice in a row, that’s their clue to know shit’s started. Work out your cover story and names yourself but stick to it.” Steve said.
“We’re just Joe and Mary Parker.” Joe said.
Mari looked at him incredulously. “Seriously? Joe and Mari are using the aliases of Joe and Mari, and your grandmother’s maiden name?”
“Yep. The best lies are built around the truth. But this will work because we’ll be victims at first. We go full Karen, piss off everyone, you come in, I try to go all hero, you, one of you, beat me up a little. Someone needs to hit me in the forehead, somehow.” Joe said.
“Why the forehead?” Steve asked.
Joe pulled a sliver of metal, no bigger than a dime. “This. I’m gonna blade. Add a little color to their lives.”
“Really? This shit again.” Mari said. “You haven’t done that in 15 years, and even then it was a bad idea.”
“The best way to subdue a crowd into submission is make it look like you hurt one of them bad. I do this, those women will scream and cry.” Joe said.
“Done what in 15 years?” Steve asked.
“And you know who’ll get stuck cleaning up that mess.” Mari said.
Joe nodded. “Blading, bro. I haven’t done it since I was wrestling. Mare, I apologize in advance. You’re gonna get messy. Give everyone an excuse to strip. Bro, if you haven’t told our people yet, don’t. I want them to be shocked too. The girls will see the fear in their eyes and get even more scared. They need to appear as victims the whole time.”
“Like with Blaine?” Steve asked.
“Yep. Hey, you ever hear from him or about him?”
“Naw, he’s out of the loop. I’ve only seen him log in once or twice in the last few months. Been real quiet. But what was that about you wrestling? You’re what, 5’7” and maybe 160 pounds?” Steve said.
“Yeah, did it for a few years in my early to mid 20’s. I was okay, but would never make it big because I’m so short. It was a fun thing to do on weekends before the kids showed up. I was in a few deathmatches back in the day, bladed to give the match some color. That’s what they call bleeding in the ring.” Joe said.
“Interesting. No superkicks.”
“No problem with that, I’ll probably pull a hammy standing up too fast.” Joe quipped. Steve laughed, then he paused for a moment, looking like he had to say something.
“What is it? Spit it out.” Joe could see the look on Steve’s face that this was going to be awkward.
“Well, if the plan is you two starting as victims, we’re gonna have to do some shit to you, get you two involved. Can’t pussyfoot around on this. You know this, right?” Steve said, looking more at Mari than Joe.
“I know.” She said, pausing on her late meal. “I have to be…raped…to make it believable. I won’t lie, it’s been a fantasy for the last few months, and this is the closest I’ll get to it with it being safe. Just don’t go jackhammer dick in my ass, okay?”
“Will do. Well, won’t do.”
“And let’s not make this awkward, either. Whatever happens up here, stays up here. None of this follows us home. Got it?” Mari said, putting her Mom voice behind it.
“Got it. And Sam?”
Mari sighed. “If it happens, it happens, same rules apply.” She turned to her husband. “No snide comments about fucking me.” Joe nodded. “Speaking of Sam, how long till they’re back.”
Steve looked at his watch. It was close to 10PM. “Probably not for a couple hours. Pool’s open till Midnight if you want to go down and check it out.”
“Sure. One question, how we getting the key to their place?” Joe asked. Steve pulled up WhatsApp and showed him a message from his phone.
“Interesting. Confirmed that’ll happen?” Joe asked.
“Yep. But just in case, you got your tools?” Steve asked.
Joe nodded. “Just in case I have my little lockpick set. I’d rather have this taken care of tonight, though. I’ll have it figured out when you give me the go ahead.”
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As James laid in bed, catching his breath from a good root, his phone buzzed. He grabbed it, then looked at the notification. It was a WhatsApp message from Steve, direct to him. James listened to Steve’s advice about not checking the group messages throughout the day, just in case something went wrong and he needed an alibi in a hurry. But this was a DM from Steve. He double checked to make sure that Bianca was still in the bathroom before opening it.
“All good for tomorrow but need one thing. Key. Can make it work without but having is better.”
James thought for a moment. If they need the key, that means Joe and Mari were in, which means this was on. If they had a copy of the key, they would waltz right in, unlock the place, and make themselves at home while everyone was out hiking. It was a great plan, but if they don’t have a key, it’ll fall apart. He typed on his phone.
“Will place spare key outside under golf cart driver’s seat in a few minutes.” James sent the message.
James leaned up and grabbed his undies and shorts, then slipped on his flip-flops. He grabbed his phone and his key to the cabin. Knocking on the door, he got Bianca’s attention. “Oi, gonna get a quick drink, back in a bit. Want anything?”
“Nothing to drink, but can you get my bag from upstairs? It’s the black carry-on.” Bianca said from in the bathroom.
“Sure, no problem.” James replied. He exited the bedroom and walked through the first floor. He didn’t hear anything from upstairs, but felt like he could feel something beneath his feet, like a loud speaker. He shrugged figuring it was probably Tommy and Aislinn playing some noise from the theater to cover their fucking. ‘Good for them.’ He thought as he stepped outside, propping the front door open behind him. It shouldn’t lock him out, but just to be on the safe side, he slid a rock in between the door and post. He walked over to the golf cart and flipped up the driver’s seat. He placed the room key in the cubby hole under the seat, then took a picture. As soon as he sent it along with a confirmation message, he deleted the pic and then emptied the trash on the phone. James then went back inside, closing the door behind him.
He made his way to the spare bedroom upstairs and knocked. No answer. He opened the door, no one was inside. Perfect. He looked at the two bags on the floor. Both were black carry-ons.
“Shite.” He was about to dig through the first one to see who it belonged to, then he remembered an important detail. One bag had a claim ticket attached to it from a flight earlier this week. Since Aislinn just flew from Melbourne a few days prior, that was a pretty good clue whose bag was whose. He checked the other bag, opening it. Most of the clothes were sizes 8 and 10. He had no clue what that meant, women use the craziest sizes for their clothes, but since Aislinn was a model he assumed she was tiny. It was only when he found a sports bra that was 38DD that he knew this was Bianca’s bag. He may not know pants sizes, but he knows a pair of big ole titties when he sees them. And sucks on them. He closed the bag and returned downstairs. As he came back down to the first floor, he noticed that the stereo was turned off. He stuck his head down the stairwell, expecting to hear silence. Instead, he heard Aislinn moaning and Tommy grunting. They were still fucking. He thought for a moment but saw some movement coming up the steps. A shadow. James moved back to his bedroom doorway, keeping an eye on the steps. Drew walked up the steps, phone in hand. He passed the first floor entirely and went back up the steps to his bedroom.
James thought about what he saw for a moment. Drew had snuck downstairs, turned on the TV, turned it off, then went back upstairs while his wife either bathed or slept. All the while, he was holding his phone instead of keeping it in his pocket. Why would someone go through all of those steps to play a game on their phone? They wouldn’t. They’d only go to that much trouble to cover something up. As virile as Drew was, there was no way he went downstairs to listen to Tommy fuck Aislinn or join in. He’d hear about it right away. Playing the TV covered up the noise from Tommy’s room, anyway. Then James thought about the time difference. It was almost Midnight in the East Coast of the United States, so it would be almost 2PM in Melbourne. The way he looked at his phone was a little off, too. If it was a business call, he wouldn’t look at it like a long-lost lover.
Lover.
That’s when it all clicked into place. Drew couldn’t sleep so he called someone, but didn’t want wifey to know. If it was a bloke, he’d text them and call it a day. If it was work, he wouldn’t use his personal phone for the task and he’d probably be more pissed than he was going back up the steps. No, it was a woman. Most likely a woman, James didn’t discount that Drew could be switch hitting nowadays. It was someone that Drew has a thing for. That’s why he snuck as far away from his wife as he could to make a phone call. If he were texting, he wouldn’t need to turn the Tele on.
James shook his head in disbelief. Not all was well in the Williams’s household. Not only was Morgana screwing Tommy but it looks like Drew had himself a mistress of his own back home. He’d have to tread very carefully, but this also gave him something over Drew, something he might need over the weekend.
Leverage.
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It was after Midnight when Joe left the apartment. Just as everyone returned from the pool, Steve’s phone buzzed with a WhatsApp message from James. He stowed the spare key in his golf cart under the front seat. That’s when he knew he was heading out late at night. After throwing on his clothes, he went for a little walk around the marina and bars, looking for a way to get to Running Bear cabin. Joe came up with a plan to walk or steal a cart or hitch a ride back.
It was even easier than he thought to get the cart. All he had to do grab one of the many golf carts parked along the street with the keys in the ignition, take it down to the Running Bear and Sleeping Bear cabins, get the key from the seat of James’s cart, and return. At least that was the original plan.
As Joe climbed into one of the golf carts, his heart skipped a beat when a group of drunks came over to him. For a moment, he thought they were going to kick his ass for taking their cart.
“Hey buddy, give us a lift.” The drunk at the front of the pack said, not waiting for Joe to say no. They were already in the cart before he pulled. Out.
“Where to?” Joe asked, realizing he just became their Uber.
“Smiling Moose. YEAH!!!” One of the drunks yelled. The leader pointed in a direction. “That way! Smiling Moose!”
Joe drove. He had no clue what a Smiling Moose was, nor where it was. He drove halfway around the lake until he found a little bar called the Smiling Moose, then dropped everyone off. He made $50 in tips when one of them gave him a $50 instead of a $20 and said “Keep it, you earned it.” Joe thanked them and drove off, leaving before they noticed the issue.
As Joe tried to get to Running Bear cabin, he was stopped again by another party of drunk people. Once again, he Ubered them to another bar, this time called Tiki Taki Toe. At least he was back where he started, and made another $20. Joe had three more fares and an offer to go home with a woman who resembled an NFL linebacker before he could finally make his way to Running Bear. By the time he arrived, all of the lights were off and there were no signs of life. After a quick search of the cart, he found the key. All he had to do was return back to the hotel.
Of course that was easier said than done. These carts when fully charged and not driven like an idiot could easily go 100 miles. This cart was nowhere near fully charged when he stole it, and the extra journeys around the lake sucked up most of the juice it had left. Joe didn’t realize he was almost out of battery until he was about a mile away from the main part of the resort, still on the secondary paths to the cabins when the cart lurched to a halt.
Joe abandoned the cart on the side of the trail and walked the remaining distance back to the camp, trying to enjoy the nature but having a hard time. He lived in the suburbs and the city. He was used to hearing cars all of the time and traffic and the occasional asshole blasting their stereo. He wasn’t used to the sounds of animals running through the woods around him. When he was about a half mile from the resort, he saw a cart come up the trail from behind him. They had room and he hopped on for the ride back to the bars. Out of kindness, he offered to pay for their next round, but they insisted they all drink together. One round became a second, then a row of shooters. By the time he was finally able to get away from his new friends, it was close to 2AM and he was a little more than tipsy. Still, he made his way back to the hotel, about the same time Sam and Bubbles made their way back to the room.
Mari was not thrilled about how Joe went out drinking and she was stuck in the hotel room with Steve. He promised to make it up to her somehow, but first he just wanted to go to bed.
Saturday was shaping up to be a very long day.
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JC left his girl’s place shortly after Midnight and drove across Harbor City to get back to his apartment. After a quick shit and change, he checked his rape kit and made sure that everything was in place. He wasn’t sure how he’d get it to the scene yet, but he’d figure something out. By 1AM, he was on the road. A stop at a gas station to fill up, get an extra-large coffee, and some of those little white energy pills that truckers use, and he was on the road.
From the wrong side of Harbor City, it’s closer to 4 hours to get to Lake Hiawatha, and at night it should be a little faster but of course, one of the Podunk towns that’s a glorified speed bump on the road decided that tonight would be the perfect time to have a DUI checkpoint. By the time he saw it, he couldn’t route around it and had to go through it. That added more time to his journey.
By the time he arrived, it was early. Early enough that he grabbed some drive-thru breakfast and coffee. He called Steve when he was in the parking lot, though Steve didn’t think he’d get in that late.
When he arrived, the early risers were getting up. Steve made room for JC on the bed, letting him try to catch a few z’s before the festivities started. Still, JC was wired and tired. He forced himself to catch about an hour or two on a nap while everyone else was getting ready in the morning. As he finally drifted off, he had one image go through his mind over and over.
Bianca screaming as he raped her.
