Page 27 of Justice

The three of them watched as she swayed her hips, making her way across the lot in boots Red couldn’t wait to have wrapped around his shoulders. His eyes drifted to the bottom of her shorts, the black material not covering a third of her ass cheeks, a butterfly tattoo waving back at him.

Hannigan and his demands had ruined his plans, making him table his needs. Soon he would have Hawk on his team, more money than he could spend in a lifetime, and the love only a devoted child could provide when he had his Tymeless back in his arms. For now, he was going to enjoy the pleasure of being President, by fucking the shit out of Candy.

CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE

Where the yardwas the same as she remembered, the inside of the clubhouse had certainly changed. Two stripper poles stood at each end of the room and the same ratty pool tables took up space outside the doors leading to the room where Red and his members held church.

The bar, which had been neglected the last time she saw it, was now the highlight of the room, with its polished features and a mirrored wall behind the top-shelf bottles of booze. Seems Red was attempting to smarten up the place. Even the rotting furniture in the corner didn’t detract from the brilliance of the bar.

She had to look away as she passed the pool table where she had witnessed the Prospects taking turns with her mother. Focusing instead on the door at the end of the hall, where the lone bathroom was located.

Shutting the door behind her, she needed a minute to check herself. Prison had taught her many things, some she had practiced several times, while others she had learned only in principle. The DIY tattoos covering her arms and back among the theory-based lessons she filed away.

Justice needed to fade into the shadows, become a ghost after she killed Red and having any identifying markings would jeopardize this, yet she needed to look the part of a patch whore. She’d used an Internet search to find the designs and used the formula she had been given to create the lines of fake ink on her skin. She had photographed the final product, using the burner phone she had purchased from the store where she obtained the supplies for her tattoos.

Looking at her image in the yellowing mirror, the edges splintered from contact with someone’s fist or head, she was thrilled to see her fake artwork was still intact and hadn’t run with the perspiration created from the humidity thickening the air outside. Satisfied with her appearance, she turns to open the door when it bursts open and an angry looking woman appears on the other side.

“What the fuck…” she starts, shooting the woman she now remembers as the one hanging off Red when she and Hawk pulled up a look of surprise.

Blonde hair, back-combed so much it had a zip code of its own, a see-through lace top, covering the smallest set of titties she had ever seen on a grown woman. Even the metal sticking through each of her nipples didn’t give them any maturity.

“Keep your patch whore hands off my old man!”

Justice scans the woman from head to toe, failing to find a claiming patch anywhere on her. “Bitch, you need to mind your business, the only patch whore in this room is you.”

Justice pushes past her, having no time for the theatrics of an insecure girl. As she reaches the bar, she sees the girl rush past her on the right, coming to a stop in front of her. She puts her hands out, attempting to stop her, as Justice’s barely covered boobs run into the center of the girl’s open palms.

“Oh, my fuck! They’re real.” The girl confesses, her eyes wide as she kneads the flesh in her hands. Justice looks past the girl for a way around her, but the shadow standing in the door stops her. Justice needed a distraction and looks down at the girl who remains enamored with her chest, her hands massaging the flesh spilling out from between her fingers and licking her chapped lips as if contemplating taking one into her mouth. Glancing over at the door one last time, she sees Red and Hawk making their way toward them, both with matching sets of hungry eyes.

“Bitch, if you’re gonna play with them, at least do it right.” Locking eyes with Red, she reaches around and pulls the string holding the tiny garment around her neck, letting the naked flesh of her chest slip back into the girl’s hands.

“Oh, God.” The girl moans, giving Justice an idea. Placing her hands over the girls, she begins to squeeze with vigor, testing the waters to see how far this bitch is willing to go. Music starts in the jukebox, a crowd beginning to gather around the pair.

“What do we have here?” Red questions as Justice removes her hands, watching his face as he stares at the fingers of the girl who had her hand down his pants not ten minutes ago.

“They’re real, Red. Look at them, would ya?”

Justice can see the want in Red’s eyes, how he would willingly chop off the girl’s hands just to get a glimpse of what is hidden behind her fingers. If she knows Red at all, he keeps the girl currently holding her chest because she makes him money. Otherwise, he would have put an end to the cock-tease and shoved Justice over the bar by now.

“I’d love to Brandi,” moving to the side, he pulls Brandi toward him. Justice feels the need to vomit the moment he gets an eye full of her naked breasts. Without moving his eyes from her, he rips the lace shirt Brandi has on down the front, her tiny breasts glowing in the light from the bar. Red leans over, taking one of Brandi’s nipples into his mouth, pulling the metal ring of the other as far out as he can. Brandi is moaning like a whore, begging him to pull harder and make her come.

Justice glances over to Hawk, his black eyes locked on the tattoo of the heart and wings over her left breast. She beckons him with her finger, while circling her nipple beside the tattoo.

“Not so fast,” Red warns her, placing his wrinkled hand over hers. “I wasn’t finished watching Brandi play with you.”

She looks from the hand covering hers, back to a hungry looking Hawk. “Hold that thought, sweetheart.” Mimicking his callousness from earlier, she hands him her top, pushes herself onto the bar and spreads her legs, motioning for Brandi to step between them.

When Brandi doesn’t move fast enough, she grabs hold of the torn lace and pulls the girl in for a kiss. Catcalls sound around her, encouraging her to make this kiss one to remember. Keeping her lips open, she shoves her tongue past the shocked and stiff ones of Brandi, coaxing her tongue to come out and play.

As she circles her mouth, she reaches out and begins to play with Brandi’s tits, the metal balls at the end giving her something to hold on to. Keeping her eyes open and locked with Hawk, she dives her tongue in one last time, before moving her legs to the side and spinning around, going for the pole.

In her mind this is just any other night at Area Sixty-Nine, dancing for the assholes with deep pockets, silently planning for the day when she is in this room, with Red on the floor covered in his own blood, watching her as she gives him a side of her he will never have.

Looking over her shoulder, she smiles as she confirms she has his attention, but she wants more. She wants him blind with lust, willing to do anything to get a slice of her and bury his limp dick between her folds.

As she locks eyes with Red, she slides her thumbs into the black shorts she created this morning, watches his mouth flops open as she slides the material down her long legs, bending over and showing him, and a slack-jawed Brandi, her freshly shaved pussy. Tossing the material to Hawk, she drops to her knees and crawls to the end of the bar, where Brandi stands half naked. Money rains all around her, but she ignores the windfall, keeping her eyes on the prize.

“Kiss,” Red demands, Hawk takes a step closer, pocketing the pants Justice discarded, while Brandi shakes her head to clear the spell Justice placed her under.

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