I'll come up with something in a minute.

Mango you glad I didn’t say orange?

Continue reading

June 1, 2011 Posted by | Photo | | Leave a comment

The Return of Jack Collier (Chapter Thirty-Six)

The Return of Jack Collier

A Jack Collier Story

By Brett N. Lashuay



Last week’s entry can be found here.

Chapter Thirty-Six: Running Home


            We went that day. I dropped Shiri off at the office, went to the hotel and grabbed my things and we were off. I drove into Reno, where I figured we could get a room without causing too much of a problem. I took a shower in the room and then lay down on the bed for what I thought would be a few moments. It was about seven in the morning when I woke up, with Jill curled up next to me like an oversized kitten. I looked around the room, noticing that things were more or less how I’d left it. Jill had brought up a suit case and another matching bag from the car and had her clothes lying carelessly on them. I got up from the bed, moving carefully so as not to disturb Jill and got dressed.


            “Morning.” She said as I pulled my pants on.


            “Hey.” I said smiling at her. “Did you have your bags in the trunk or something? I don’t remember packing your stuff.”


            “Oh I bought that stuff last night.” She laughed and sat up wearing what I noticed was a silk negligee that was more shadow than garment. No woman should be able to look that good without the aid of Photoshop. It’s not fair to us poor males to look at that and then be expected to think pure thoughts. I was stuck though on her phrase.


            “How did you buy it?” I asked. “I did mention not using credit cards, didn’t I?”


            “Yes.” She rolled her eyes and stood up from the bed. “I wouldn’t do that.”


            She walked over to me and gave me a deeply loving kiss on the mouth. I returned the kiss, because there are things you have to do in the name of customer service. She was warm in the cool room, warm and vibrant and sweetly fragranced. I liked holding her, why should I be even remotely ashamed about that? I’m a healthy young man, well maybe not so young now, but still pretty healthy. She pressed herself against me, and ran soft tipped fingers against my back.


            “I never stopped wanting you.” She said as she seemed to wrap herself around me like some sort of feminine putty. “I love you so much. I’ve never really loved anyone else.”


            “Okay.” I said, smelling her hair and wanting not to be distracted. I had to push her away so I could talk to her. “We’ll talk about that in a moment. First, how did you pay for this stuff?”


            “Oh that?” She laughed, and it sounded like tinkling bells. She then licked her upper lip and that wasn’t doing anything for my concentration. “I just made a killing while you were asleep.”


            “Pardon?” I asked.


            “These guys think they know how to gamble, but you put a girl in a low cut top in front of them, and they will loose twenty grand for the hope of watching you bed over to get it.” She sat down on the bed and made the most attention grabbing pose she could think of while patting the spot next to her. “Come here beautiful.”


            “You made twenty grand?” I asked.


            “No.” She shook her head. “I made a hundred and eighty grand. And I got the room comped. Then I got some decent clothes. Not bad huh?”


            “Not bad.” I admired.


            “Come on.” She said pulling the mist thin top off, “Come take me now. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”


            Oh the things we independent businessmen will do in the name of customer service. You’ve got to provide these free services though, to loyal repeat customers. I’m not sure how standard the practice of nailing the kidnap victim once you’ve got her safe is for other private eyes, but I seem to have to do it all the time. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, it’s an enjoyable little task really, but it does seem odd how often it happens.


            At ten, when we were both done and washed, we checked out of the hotel in Reno and started the long trek across America. Hopefully, while that was happening, a guy who looked like me (only far less handsome) was on his way to Georgia in Debbie’s car. Maybe he was running over small children and dogs to make sure people got the license plate number. And while he was doing that enjoyable task, I was forced to ride cross country with a beautiful girl at my side. I won’t complain though. Well, I will a little.


            “You know, you lied to me.” She said as we drove.


            “How?” I asked.


            “You said I’d outgrow you.” She said rubbing my thigh with her hand. “I never did.”




            “No?” I asked.


            “No.” She said. “I wanted you in me everyday since you left. I kept myself pure for you, ever since you left.”


            Oh fuck.


            It wasn’t going to be easy to send her back to school if she went on like this. I liked her, but I didn’t love her, and I was sort of full up on girls at the moment. I had quite a busy dance card as it was and another name was just one more name. Even if she was a delight to be with, it was getting crowded.


            “I never let a boy touch me.” She said rubbing my thigh with her fingers. “I just stayed pure for you. I cleaned myself out, stayed lean, worked out, got strong.”


            “I see that.” I said.


            Son of a bitch.


            No, not easy to get rid of her. Still, there was hope. I mean even though she was beautiful, she wasn’t bi-sexual beautiful was she? Was she? She was pretty close. I’d already had a morning with her, and I’d never been with anything but bi-sexual girls before. Still though, it wasn’t like she could keep it up if she was straight. And besides, I was living a, whatda call it? Poly lifestyle now, and she’d be too jealous for that.


            “I played with girls though, I like playing with girls. We could play with girls together. I wouldn’t mind if there were other girls all the time, so long as I got to have you too.”




            Well, at least my record was still in tact. That’s me, always looking on the bright side. P.M.A. kids. Positive mental attitude, that’s what you’ve gotta have.


            “Are you going to move me into your place when we get home?” She asked as we were driving through the desert.


            “I hadn’t planned on it.” I said.


            “Why not?” She demanded, sounding a little offended.


            “Well, first I’ve got a one room place.” I told her. “And second you’re going to Stanford in the fall.”


            “Oh that’s off.” She waved a hand at the suggestion of college. “All I need to do now is make love to you. You’re mine now.”


            “Just because you let me into that little slice of heaven between your legs, it doesn’t mean you get to hold ownership.” I said.


            “Not really a slice is it?” She asked. “More like a slit, a gate to heaven maybe.”


            “The point is my lovely little dear, you’ve got plans, haven’t you?”


            “I’m going to live with you and make you happy.” She said.


            “No.” I said, probably too sternly. “You need to go to college.”


            “You want to get rid of me?” She asked, and if I were smart I’d notice she was getting annoyed. Missing those signs is what got me shot last time.


            “Of course not, but school is important.” I said and then I was stupid “Besides, I’m sure your father would like to see you.”


            “You’re going to send me back to him?” She suddenly looked on the verge of tears. “You did all this, made me feel safe, just to send me back to him?”


            “What’s the matter?” I asked.


            “You fucked me, now you’re going to throw me away? You’re going to throw me to him and you want to know what’s the matter? How could you?”


            “Slow down.” I said. “I only said you need to go to college. Why don’t you want to go to your father?”


            “You’re going to dump me again!” She really was crying now. I pulled the car over to the shoulder and parked. “You’re going to leave me with him like you did before.”


            “Back up.” I told her as I slid across and put my arms around her. I noticed my voice dropped into its most reassuring tone when I did this. “Tell me what the problem is and I’ll try to fix it. I can’t help you if you just start throwing anger at me.”


            “He used to fuck me.” She started to cry in earnest now and it started to get hard to understand through the sobs. “He’d make me suck him off at first. Made me blow him from the time I was eight. He started to fuck my butt when I turned thirteen, after they took Mom away. After Cole broke me, he started fuck me in the twat too. He said it didn’t matter anymore, because everyone would know it was Cole who did it.”








            “Oh babe, I’m sorry.” I pulled her face up and kissed her and then held her tight to me. “I am so, so, sorry.”


            “You said you’d take me away, take me anywhere I wanted to go, but you didn’t!” She shouted.


            “You shot me in the chest.” I said, trying not to sound indignant about it. “I was in a coma for two years. It took another for me to get back to this point physically.”


            “No.” She shook her head at me and fixed those sparkling blue eyes on mine. “Cole shot you.”


            “No.” I said, trying to sound like I wasn’t blaming her for her actions. “You did.”


            “Oh god.” She sobbed again. “I did! Didn’t I?”


            “It’s okay.” I said rubbing her shoulder with my hand. “I got better. The point is I couldn’t come save you and I’m sorry.”


            “I finally begged enough that Mom was able to send me away to school out here when I turned fifteen.” She went on with the story as if the previous exchange hadn’t happened, which was probably for the best. “He couldn’t come get me anymore. I thought I was safe, but then they came for me.”


            “Well, now you are going to be safe.” I told her and kissed to reassure her. “I won’t take you back to him if you don’t want to go.”




            “Promise.” I said. “Where is your mother?”


            “She’s still in Switzerland I guess.” She said. “She may have been traded off again by now.”


            “Yeah, but she’s got to be, what? Forty? Forty-five? I mean that doesn’t mean she can’t still look good, but as far as trading goes.”


            “She’s not forty.” She said. “She’s your age Thirty-two, thirty-three now?”


            “Your mother is thirty-three?”


            “Yeah.” She said.


            “You’re mother isn’t also your sister is she?” I asked, fearing the Chinatown Syndrome. “Because I’m not sure I could take that.”


            “No.” She said. “Mom’s dad died in an accident when she was ten. Dad took her in and adopted her. He got her pregnant when she was fourteen, but the blamed it on some drifter. She said he raped her and Dad and some locals killed him. It was dad that got her pregnant though, and he married her when I was about four and she was eighteen.”


            “Could you hang on a second, sweetie?” I said sliding across the bench seat toward the driver’s side door so I could get out.


            “Where are you going?” She asked.


            “I’ve just got to go over to that dead tree for a moment.” I said. “Just wait here and we’ll be off in a moment. You won’t have to go anywhere you don’t want to. You can stay with me forever if that’s what you really want.”


            “Okay.” She said, looking a little more cheerful. “I love you Jack. I love you so much it hurts.”


            “I know.” I said and walked away from the car towards the dead tree.


            I’m not exactly proud of the next three minutes. I’m a grown man after all, and a tough guy. I’m supposed to internalize, while looking totally unflappable. However, I was alone with a car and a girl and I figured neither of them was likely to talk. So I had a temper tantrum. I yanked the tree out of the ground and smashed a boulder with it until the tree came apart in my hands and then I started to kick and scream at the rock for a while until I exhausted the limits of that little task. Then I fell to the ground and proceeded to kick and screamed like a two year old for a while. After that, I was calm. I walked back to the car and grabbed a bottle of water to wash my hands and have a drink.


            “Jack?” Jill asked.


            “Yes dear?” I asked.


            “Are you okay?”


            “No.” I said. “I am not okay. I’m pretty far from okay. I’ll be okay later, but right now I can’t even see okay with a telescope.”


            “Oh.” She said, cringing a little in the seat.


            “But I tell you what.” I said sitting down in the car. “You tell me more about playing with girls and we’ll see if that doesn’t cheer me up, okay?”


            “Sure Jack.” She smiled at that, because she thought it might excite or delight me. Mostly it was a pleasant distraction from the thoughts I was having about choking Peter Piper to death with a jar of his own pickled peppers.


June 1, 2011 Posted by | Fiction, Jack | | Leave a comment

A few pictures

Continue reading

June 1, 2011 Posted by | Photo | , | Leave a comment