Date with The Brothers

 

Garrity was of no assistance. He wasn’t on the Marilyn job and didn’t know a thing about it. I also knew, when it came right down to it, he’d protect Petra. They were tight. But he did give me a little nugget of information on who was on Marilyn’s security detail. He was trying to reassure me that Marilyn was in good hands no matter who Petra assigned to her. He had no idea that I didn’t care who she had as security. I was her security. Sanctioned by Petra or not. I didn’t care anymore.

“Look, I think it’s that crew that handled that bratty English lord when he was whooping it up in Vegas last year. They’ve worked The Diamond before, so it’s an easy setup.”

“But you aren’t sure?”

“Buddy. You’re going to have to give it up. You have no business anywhere near this job anymore, and you will wind up in jail.”

“You’re right. I know you are.”

“Just get in that truck and go. Today.” Garrity was trying to warn me off of fucking up my life further. I decided to act like I was buying the line of reasoning he was selling.

“I will. My truck’s packed. I should hit the road.”

“Before it’s too late, you know?”

“Yes. Thanks, Garrity. See you around.”

“Yeah, kill me a bison or whatever and we’ll grill it on my next vacation to Idaho.”

“Montana.”

“Right.” We hung up.

So I’d learned two things. I knew the crew likely handling Marilyn’s security and the place for the appointment was, not surprisingly, The Diamond.

Though Garrity didn’t have details, he’d really given me most of what I needed. The only thing left was the time. I had to assume that Marilyn was booked for tonight. No other reason for her to be gone from the house. She was getting ready for her third major assignment and I was getting ready to flip my shit again.

I withdrew ten-grand from my bank account, in cash. I used it to bribe maids, bus boys, and laundry staff. If you act like you already have some information, you get more. I had narrowed it down pretty well before my bribe-fest, so it wasn’t that hard to learn the room number and get a room key to the security team for Marilyn’s “date” with the Maldonado brothers.

I would be the security team, whether Petra liked it or not.

I was down $260,000 bucks since starting this Marilyn job, and I didn’t care. I’d live in a pup tent on my acreage when this was all over, but nothing was more important than making sure Franco didn’t harm a hair on her head. I couldn’t stop the job. She wouldn’t want me too. She had to make her money too. I got that. But I sure as hell was going to be there if Franco’s worst habits got the better of him.

Step One: Planning for two. I knew, this time, Marilyn had a two-man security team. I had to give Petra credit for that. She maybe saw the Maldonados were dangerous enough to warrant beefed-up security. Or maybe I could give myself a little credit. Two of them equaled one of me. Either way, two was the number I had to deal with.

Step Two: I used my key to walk in all nonchalant to great Chic and Terry, the team who I’d deduced was on this job. It was good to be right. There was Chic, ready to watch this Marilyn job go down.

Chic was eyeballing the monitors. That meant that Terry was taking Marilyn to the Presidential suite. Ironic, eh? I knew Terry would be coming back in too soon.

Chic was startled when I walked in. The question was, did he know I was fired or did he think I was still an employee in good standing with Vallin?

“Hey, Lincoln. I thought you weren’t doing this anymore. Petra said...”

“Yeah, just transitioning, helping Petra make sure you’re all up to my standards, and Petra is very concerned about keeping The Brothers happy.”

 “Yeah, this Marilyn, she’s gorgeous but she seems like a baby deer.” Chic’s assessment made me angry. Anyone talking about Marilyn made me clench up. Not that he was wrong.

“What’s the set up there?” Chic was just as on edge as I was. I could see it in a clenched jaw and a totally forced casualness. We were both forcing the casual.

“I’ll show you, but then you need to go. I don’t know what your deal is with Petra or this Marilyn, but I do know you’re a surprise. You taught me not to like surprises in this job. You got nothing to worry about, the camera is just like you would have...”

And Chic turned his head away from me toward the monitors.

I rapped him on the top of the head with the butt of the small handgun I carried. It was fast and efficient, and I moved quickly to the door while he slumped to the floor. If Chic suspected I shouldn’t be there, so would Terry. I’d need to completely surprise Terry because I knew he was faster than Chic. He’d be coming back in seconds from handing off Marilyn to The Brothers.

Terry used his key card to enter the room and was greeted with the site of Chic on the floor. He stepped in and BAM. Hiding in his blind spot was the key. Same deal, I had one shot. I rapped him on the head with a quick thwack. He never knew what hit him.

 I didn’t want to hurt them, but I was going to be fucking security for Marilyn. I also didn’t think they needed to see what she had to do. At least, I could protect her from too many eyes. I didn’t want them eyeballing her any more than I wanted the brothers touching her. And a part of my brain knew all of this was irrational. Ain’t love grand?

I dragged Chic and Terry to the bathroom and used my handy dandy zip ties to keep them there for a while. They’d have headaches and hell to pay with Petra, but I didn’t give a damn. If I was going to go “rogue” as she called it, I was going all the way.

I was breathing heavy from the effort, but I didn’t have time to think about it. The date had begun. There were four cameras to toggle through for me to keep an eye on Marilyn’s appointment with the Maldonados.

She stood in front of them; both of The Brothers sat in chairs next to a little coffee table in their Presidential Suite. It was a huge space with a sitting area, a kitchen, a dining room, and a bedroom, but the main “living space” is where they began.

My theory was that Franco needed to see Dom do a lot before he could get it up himself. Also, he needed violence.

But that’s where I’d stop him, goddammit. If Franco did one thing wrong, I’d be on it. I was waiting for it.

“Take off your clothes. Slowly, Marilyn, we’ve got all the time in the world.”

Marilyn had been a stripper. She knew how to take off her clothes, and when she did, each tooth of the zipper or strap coming undone turned any man hard as a rock. It was impossible to look away.

This time, her zipper was on the side of her waist. She slid it down and used her other hand to keep the strapless dress up. Her breasts straining against the dress were suddenly, tantalizingly, nearly free. She paused a moment, and the dress fell. Her breasts swayed as the fabric dropped. It was that sway, that little bounce, that movement that got you. It was the promise of real and spectacular.

She stood before them in a thong and heels. She looked them both in the eyes and to me it was goddamn sexy and also brave. She was offering herself up to them knowing they were ruthless. “Stop looking at me in the eye.” That was Franco’s command, and she quickly obeyed by looking at the floor.

“Come over here and sit on my lap,” Dom instructed her. She walked over and seemed uncertain for a moment. So Dom took the lead and grabbed her shoulders and placed her in his lap, her legs straddling him, her breasts in his face. He grazed her nipples with his hands; the little buds were the very lightest of pink. She said she wasn’t a real blonde, but the light areoles made it seem all too real. She was white and pink everywhere you looked.

Dom leaned in and bit the erect buds one at a time, his hands then sliding around her backside to cup her rounded ass, Dom’s tan fingers a stark contrast with her skin. I could almost forget it wasn’t me in his place. Almost.

That’s when Franco finally moved forward. He kneeled down behind her and grabbed the thong. Dom pushed her breasts together and buried his mouth in her gorgeous cleavage like he was starving.

Franco tugged on the thong, and it lifted her up. He released it and she plopped down again onto Dom. Marilyn reached up and put her arms behind her to encircle Franco’s neck as best she could. It offered an, even more, pert display for Dom to enjoy, which he did. I heard him groan as he continued to lavish attention on her.

Franco repeated the motion with the thong, but this time just up, up, up, until the fabric gave way between her legs and she fell onto Dom again.

As Dom continued to focus on his favorite body part, Franco did too. I involuntarily closed my eyes. I knew what he was doing, and she moaned in response. I felt hate grow inside me. It wasn’t a red-hot rage, but a bitter promise of loathing for Franco. Her moan sealed it.

 Dom’s voice forced me to open my eyes again.

“Time to move this little party,” Dom said. Franco backed up and then lifted Marilyn up in his arms. He carried her to the bedroom as I toggled through the monitors to make sure I had the correct view. I tried to zone in on Marilyn’s face as Franco flung her to the bed. Her eyes were hooded, and her breath was coming in pants. She was the submissive sex kitten they wanted her to be, and I only hoped I could stay out of it so she could get the payday she deserved.

The three-way was mostly Dom. First, he positioned Marilyn on him and facing out. He put his hands on her hips and guided her up and down.

While Dom pumped into her and guided Marilyn, she put her hands on Franco’s shoulders for balance. Franco’s mouth was all over her.

Her gorgeous body swayed up and down, and she was suspended between them, Dom in the back and Franco in front. The only sounds now were moans from her and grunts from them.

I dug my fingers deep into the flesh of my palms and closed my eyes again. Every time I swallowed, it was like acid in my throat.

Dom sunk his teeth into the soft white skin of her shoulder. She gasped a little. Another bruise, I thought viciously.

Jealousy consumed me. I wanted to know myself what her flesh tasted like and felt the urge to knock the monitors to the ground. I didn’t. I couldn’t. Stopping her from doing what she believed to be the best thing she could to further her own plan would be the surest way to piss her off. I tried to keep logic rolling through my head, but violence and blood were stronger, almost.

“Get on your hands and knees,” said Dom. Marilyn complied. Her bottom was in the air, her head lifted up, waiting for Dom’s next order. There wasn’t one. Instead, he put his fist in her hair and yanked her head to the side. He put his lips up to her ear. I wasn’t sure what he said since it was a whisper, but I swear he said, “This is when you earn it.”

Franco stood back as Dom ruthlessly pinched her nipple. Then Dom came around the back of her and smacked her ass, one side and then the other. I was so focused on the hand print mark that showed up so quickly, I barely registered that Franco was in the corner watching. He liked to see Dom dole out the spankings. Dom gave a little attention to each cheek and then guided her mouth to him, with still no participation from brother dear.

Dom lost himself. She was good, really good. Dom was happy as hell and he managed to say, “Do what you want, Franco.” It came out as a groan as he finished.

Franco drove into her as she stayed on all fours. I squeezed my eyes shut for a split second before I remembered not seeing this wasn’t an option.

Marilyn struggled to reposition herself but Franco kept going. He was the one now oblivious to his brother.

Some sick shit was between these brothers.

Marilyn never uttered a sound that seemed like a safe word, or even a no. Anything would have brought me running in. She did her job. She did it well. And it was killing me.

I am certain that if anyone sounded like they were in pain, it was me as I stifled a roar that was building.

I had not killed Donny, but murder was like a pot on the stove, bubbling, boiling to the surface, with every job Marilyn took.

I didn’t kill. I only thought of it as I watched Franco finish, going faster and faster, with her not missing a stroke.

As Franco finished Dom approached Marilyn, still submissive, and still giving them all they paid for. He whispered in her ear again, “You are a little superstar fuck.”

I bit the flesh of my tongue.

Then the sound of a cell phone interrupted post-sex lethargy.

“That’s dad’s ring.” The two of them got up, Franco lifting Marilyn and cruelly throwing her down to the floor as they scrambled to answer their father’s summoning.

Both were out of the frame of the camera. I watched and saw what the brothers did not: Marilyn working to find Leslie.

She took a deep breath and sat up with her legs curled under her. She smoothed her hair and then covered herself with her hands. She waited. Her eyes were wide; she seemed unsure what they’d want next, and what she should do, so she remained submissive.

“You’re done tonight, Marilyn. We’ve got business.” The two hastily dressed and exited. Marilyn sat in the same position as they left. I needed to get to her, to help her. They didn’t need her anymore; I wasn’t in danger of killing anyone. I had succeeded in controlling my rage, but I wasn’t going to wait anymore.

But first, I had a tiny bit of business.

I opened the bathroom door where Terry and Chic were just starting to come out of their fog.

“I’d say I was sorry, but you two made it too easy. What if I was a bad guy?”

I found the key to the Presidential Suite in Terry’s jacket pocket and extracted it as he began to struggle.

Because I’m a bad guy with a good heart, I put the pocket knife on the table in the other room. They’d have some work to do to get free, but they’d get free. But it would take them a bit of time. I’d say I had twenty minutes.

In that time, I raced to the Presidential Suite and used my stolen key.

I found her there. She hadn’t moved from her position. I wondered what Petra would say if she saw this; it was not typical for her associates; I can tell you that.

I approached her slowly. I didn’t want to startle her.

“Marilyn.” I crouched down near her but didn’t touch her yet. She wasn’t herself. Maybe she was outside herself. Maybe that’s how she did the job. Maybe that’s how all the associates did though I doubted it.

I put a hand softly on her shoulder, “Marilyn.” She looked up at me and seemed to not recognize me. “Leslie.” I used her real name and brushed a bit of her hair back from her forehead. The lights came back on.

“Lincoln?”

“Yes. Are you okay?” I wished to hell I would have stopped it. What was going through her head now?

“I am. What are you? Where are Terry and Chic?” She was becoming more fully herself again.

“I gave them the night off, handled the job myself.” She tried to right herself but was unsteady.

“I need to rinse off.”

“Okay.” I lifted her in my arms. Her curves weighed nothing and it was easy to carry her to the expansive shower of the Presidential Suite.

“Don’t leave me, okay?” she asked, and of course, that’s all I needed to hear. She leaned back on the tile wall.

I spied the hand-held spray nozzle.

“I need you to hold onto this bar, and if it’s okay, I’ll rinse you off?”

She nodded. I stayed back away from the water and made sure it was warm and she was steady enough to hold on.

I directed the warm water to her shoulders and neck first. She visibly winced as it hit the bite mark on her shoulder that Dom had given her.

I saw the beginnings of bruises the shape of fingerprints on the sides of her gorgeous breasts. I tended to her. Letting the water go where I wished I could but never would. I had her trust and I was going to keep it.

I used a little body wash that was there to clean her and then rinse off again. I may not have touched her with anything other than that spray of water, but I watched each droplet land on her skin. The droplets formed rivers, and the rivers washed down the length of her body as the experience of the night faded. My own t-shirt was soaked, but who cared?

She held on to the towel bar and swayed as the warm water brought her back to herself.

“Are you okay here?” I needed to get her a towel.

“Yes. Yes, I am.” I quickly grabbed the plush towel on the rack and came back to wrap it around her and scoop her up again.

“We need to get out of here.” She didn’t need an encore performance with them tonight, and in my opinion, she was lucky that daddy had called. Or I was.

We ended up in the sitting area where her dress had been discarded. I opened the dress for her to step into and then provided a place for her to balance as she arranged it and zipped it up.

“Are you okay to walk to the elevator? The lobby? My truck will be brought around front.” She seemed stronger; she’d gotten her legs under her after the shower.

“Yes. I’m fine. I really. I am fine.”

We exited the suite and walked to the elevator. Once inside she leaned on me again. I had an arm around her waist. She seemed small, and her light personality was still not back.

“Well that was a creative challenge,” she said, and she was back. But I was still not over watching her be creative.

“You can always quit,” I said this through gritted teeth, knowing that as long as she was going to be an associate of Vallin Inc., I was going to be her security, one way or another.

“Maybe.”

I drove her home and she slowly recovered her spark, shaking off whatever memory Dom and Franco had left her.

I hoped, ridiculously I supposed, that maybe this experience was enough. Maybe she would realize it was too high a price to pay to get money for her father.

As we entered her duplex, there was a bouquet of roses and an envelope on her kitchen table.

“Those Maldonados are so romantic.” A sarcastic joke from her, truly no lingering trauma; it was good, except bad. She was getting more resilient. I refused to believe Petra was right, again.

She opened up the envelope and there was a check for $100,000. The note read, “Consider it a performance bonus.”

“Oh my god.” She walked around to her kitchen drawer and produced another envelope.

“What?”

“Lincoln, Petra paid me $250,000 up front and now this. I just made $350,000.” Her eyes were wide.

And I knew she wouldn’t be quitting anytime soon. Suddenly, I felt as tired as she’d looked earlier on the floor of The Diamond Hotel.