*If you outlive your friends it hurts, but if they outlive you it could hurt more*

(Note: Combat is a bit over to top -- just warning you)

Prelude:

We were considered brothers because of the neighborhood we grew up in since the seventh grade led us to always hanging out together. It was our thing. Dallas Aaronson was the closest we had to a jock, plus he was also pretty smart and his folks were kind of rich. He went on to a nice college but came back a chemistry teacher at our old school, a constant case of amusement to the rest of us.

Kris Thompson was always the Rich Kid. His grandfather ran the largest chemical plant in this part of the state. He'd gone of the college, gotten his degree and gone to work at the family business. He also been married and divorced all in a matter of three years. We always liked him the most and not because he came across the highway to be with us poorer kids. He was our charismatic front man.

Cowan Wilson was a poor kid like me. Right after graduation he was busted for theft and spent three years in prison upstate. To him it was a different kind of college and by the time I came home he had developed a frightful erratic reputation in the local underground. He never found a girl that worked, but always had tales to tell about his wild nights.

Alton Kitchener had been the greatest force behind us all graduating and graduating as high as we did. He'd gone on to a full scholarship, graduating in three years and a Masters in two before setting up his own business back in town. He was a total geek, but unlike most geeks he had gone through the high school experience without being picked on, or picked on without their bringing repercussions. He was our brother and we bled for him.

Our only non-brother brother was Jewel Lewis. Jewel had been our friend for so long we hardly thought of her as a girl. Like Alton, she was a brain and a geek. We weren't really beating guys off of her growing up, but she was a really nice friend. She kept in touch with me all the while I was away, even letting me participate in her graduation from law school by video.

Lastly that left me, Christian Talle as kind of the odd man out. I was smart, but not smart enough for a good college so I entered the Service. The thing was, I wasn't a rough-house fighter, or even a terribly aggressive guy. I had an even temper yet somehow I ended up going to foreign lands and killing people for my country. More than one of my instructors said I had a natural aptitude for it.

We all got together for a cookout when I got out of the service after nine years. I had some job offers from my buddies but it was clear to me that all they thought my experience in the military qualified me for was private security work though Cowan offered me a job as an enforcer. In the end I opted for a job as a personal trainer at a gym because I was sick and tired of violence.

(Tuesday)

Anyway, I have only been in town for three months when I get a frantic call from Jewel Lewis. She tells me to hurry up and meet at her place. It is three in the morning so I throw on whatever is handy and hurriedly over. I find Cowan standing around when I arrive. Inside Kris Thompson is sitting with his older brother, Jack. Jewel is running the meeting.

"Cowan, Christian; Jack's only child; a son named Brandon has been kidnapped. They say if we don't hand over three million dollars by mid-day tomorrow the boy will be killed." I don't like the way this is going. "If the police or FBI is contacted the boy will be killed as well."

"What do you want us to do?" Cowan says carefully. There is a pregnant pause.

"Get my son back," Jack pleads. This isn't what we were looking for. We didn't have to wait long.

"Cowan, Christian, get that boy back no matter what," Jewel clarifies.

"Well Christian," Cowan turns to me and grins. "Let's go get some tools and pay some visits." I nod and find my heart increasing a pace. These were my closest friends asking me for help and for once I can do something about it. My criminal friend and I turn and leave.

What follows is only a matter of Cowan hunting down who would be desperate enough to attempt this. If they are professionals we are pretty screwed. As it was, we have a list of possible suspects inside the knowledge of Brandon. We run some numbers and sure enough, someone has a serious gambling problem on the verge of being fixed.

I take over. He wants his lawyer and I explain that we aren't the police. He wants to see the police so I shatter a finger with a hammer. In general torture isn't very useful unless you know exactly what you are asking for. I want a contact number and one finger later we have it. We shove the bastard in the trunk of the car still crying for a doctor. Lawyer-police-doctor; this guy can't make up his mind.

The number turns out to be a pre-paid cell, normally untraceable but we go to our buddy Alton at seven in the morning. He has us an address by nine. We gather up every gun that Cowan has on hand and go over to check the place out. It is a foreclosed home with an IR signature showing one person in the back of the house, three people up in the main room, and a big and small person in the basement.

Our plan is simple. We will sneak in the back, Cowan will go down and rescue the boy and when he tells me we have the right kid, I will deal with the rest of the people in the house. We never actually talk about killing anyone; it is a given.

The first round is standard operating procedure; I tap lightly on the back door. When the kidnapper comes to the door I put two silenced rounds to his head through the wood. Cowan has the door sprung before the first person in the main room has finished asking if something is wrong. Cowan races for the downstairs while I put the pistol away and pull out the shotgun and walk into the main room.

Clearly this is where they've been camped out all night drinking, playing games, and watching Blue Ray. The four of us stare at one another for several seconds. They are waking up and shaking off the fatigue of a long wasted night and I am waiting on my cue.

"Yo Man, we can talk about his," the leader, a black man in his early twenties smiles at me.

In fact, all the hostiles here seemed to be black. I file that away for later. I can see them fidgeting because they haven't a clue until shots ring out from downstairs. The leader dives to the floor. The bigger of the other two men goes for the assault rifle next to him and I put one blast right beneath his heart. I turn and shoot the other man in the same location a second later. His pistol flies from his nerveless hand.

"Oh fuck," the leader exclaims. "Listen man, this has all been a terrible mistake. I kept my gun pointed at him while I hear Cowan pounding up the stairs.

"Got him, Brandon's okay," Cowan breaths. As he rounds the corner he groans.

"Fuck, that's Jesse Foster. His old man is a big fucking wheel is town," Cowan explains.

"That's right, my old man is powerful. You boys best be backing up now," the last survivor threatens. I shrug.

"Too bad he's seen our faces. Take the kids outside," When I hear them exit I blow the last guy's head off; fucking kidnappers.

"Oh Fuck that's hardcore," Cowan chuckles as I join him and Brandon in the kitchen.

We quickly exit the property and made our way back to Jewel's with almost an hour to spare.

"Was there any trouble?" she asks quietly once father and son had been reunited.

"You know the Fosters?" Cowan asks.

"Cedric Foster runs most of the organized crime rackets on the East Side. Was he behind this?" she wonders.

"His little boy Jesse was and Christian blew his head off," Cowan informs her.

"Oh damn it," she mutters. "If he ever figures it out, there will be hell to pay. Still, that dumb asshole messed with the wrong group of people," she grins fiercely.

"All of this is fine, but I have to get to work at noon," I tell my two friends. I still have bills to pay.

(Evening)

Cowan comes by to pick me out when I get off of my shift at the gym.

"Let's go out and celebrate," he greets me. I am not sure what to celebrate; we have killed five guys and saved a boy but we've still broken the law. "Let me show you the town."

"Fine," I accept his good natured offer.

I find myself going through the part of town my mom and dad would have tanned me for having gone through. Cowan is looking for something and when he finds the target of his search it turns out to be hookers -- two hookers in particular. I think Cowan is touched in the head if this is what he thinks I want.

The girls aren't bad looking, closer to thirty than twenty in my estimation, but there were better than most in this area.

"Hey ladies," Cowan calls out. I can tell that their enthusiasm for Cowan is strained, "how much for the both of you for the night?"

They look me over and tell him $300 each. Cowan laughs and they get into the back but the drive to Cowan's place is done mostly with him talking. We get the party off without preamble with Cowan ordering the girls to strip down and get on his bed. He offers me my choice of hookers as we put on our rubbers.

I size them up; one has everything in more womanly proportions, larger C-cup breasts, a curve to the belly and hips and thick, curvy light brown hair but she seemed a bit dull-eyed. She does have a nice tattoo of a ghostly reaper that runs along her waist line aimed at her clean shaven crotch.

The second girl has smaller proportions everywhere but her eyes seemed more alert and soulful and she has an extensive tattoo of a one-winged angel that runs over her shoulder and onto her back. Her hair is a much darker brown and she has very distinctive full eyebrows that were oddly familiar. This is the one I reach out and touch.

"What do you want?" she says with as much pleasure as she can muster.

"On all fours," I dictate evenly. She slowly complies and has the good professional sense to look over her shoulder at me and give a weak smile as she shakes her hips invitingly. I image she hopes I will get it over with soon.

Cowan slaps the ass of his 'date' and she was soon on all fours so that she was side by side with my girl, heads in opposite directions, he is grinning wildly at me, and he is fucking her brutally.

"Next step," he grins. He pulls out and takes some lube from the night stand. The other girl grimaces but waits without protest. Cowan rams a finger into her ass followed by another.

He doesn't even warn her when he drives his cock deep into her ass with one shove. She cries out and tears well in her eyes as she falls forward. Cowan doesn't wait a moment before grabbing a handful of hair and pulling her back onto all fours.

"No you don't bitch," he gloats as he keeps at it. I'm not sure why he hates this woman but he does.

After a few more thrusts he pulls out and tosses his girl to the side where she flops down. Cowan moves forward and shoves his cock straight from the first girl's ass into my girl's throat. She chokes but says nothing. Soon he is grinding his pubic hair into her nose still grinning like a madman.

"You don't know who these bitches are, do you?" he asks. I know them for somewhere but couldn't place the faces. "I'm fucking Shelia Miles and you are nailing Regina Blackburn." Shelia Miles was a terrible cock tease in high school, kind of a wild woman. That she has become a prostitute wasn't impossible.

Regina Blackburn was a totally different picture; she was one of the brightest and most popular girls in my graduating class. She was motivated, attractive, and going places. When I had last heard of her she was headed to university on a full scholarship. I can't imagine a situation that led her to become a drug addict and whore and how I've ended up with my cock in some place I have never dreamed to be possible is beyond me.

My surprise must show on my face.

"I love fucking these stuck up bitches," Cowan gloats. "Tell me we could have hit any trim this good back in high school." Before I could think of a response Regina moans and wiggles against me in a move I doubt is authentic. Cowan must be feeling the same way. He turns back to Shelia and gets her back in position. As he savagely penetrates her ass her she cries out again.

I lean over Regina's body pressing my body down on her back.

"Don't say anything," I tell her. She starts slightly when I run my hand through her hair so that I could get access to her ear. She could use a shower. I nibbled on her ear. Propped up on one arm and her back I reach underneath and begin to play with her nipples.

I now remembered that one breast looked a little more inflamed than the other one, probably bitten too vigorously; I choose the undamaged one. I start going at her with slow even strokes and soon she starts to react. Cowan finishes in Shelia with a shout. He slaps her ass hard enough to leave a handprint and pushes her forward. He pulls off his condom and has her clean him up.

Cowan and Shelia find themselves watching the two of us still fucking. By now Regina is tossing her head back and forth and she's moaning. I move my hand from her breast to her pussy, locate her clit, and start making small circles on it. Regina starts gasping for air until her whole body shuddered and she gave out a primal scream. She started to fall forward but I catch her and pull her close right as I shoot into my condom.

"Bitch," chuckles Cowan to Regina, "you've been holding out on me with those 'Oh my God' orgasms of yours. You are going to pay for lying to me."

I can't read Regina's expression from this angle but I can do something. I nibble on her neck and rub my palm on her smooth stomach. Her tension bleeds out and she relaxes against me.

"Let's switch," Cowan suggests. I am thinking it over when he chuckles.

"Regina, who just fucked you? I'll give you a hint; you graduated with him," he smiles evilly.

Regina tenses again. I can tell because my cock is only semi-deflated inside of her. She struggles for nearly a minute before letting her shoulders drop.

"Christian Talle," he taunts her. "Christian, why don't you fuck this arrogant bitch up her ass? They both love it."

I can tell that Shelia doesn't seem to love it, or at least the way he does it. Still, she can't even remember my damn name.

"Regina clean me off and then get me another rubber," I tell her coldly. She scoots around and the thing that sticks to me most is that she is emotionless. She isn't embarrassed or afraid or even resigned -- she doesn't care at all. Cowan has Shelia get him hard again before putting on his rubber.

Regina gets me ready and she even gets into position without comment handing me a tube of lube. It think about Cowan for a second and decide there were some places I didn't need to go.

"Lube yourself up," I command her. She looks back at me then rolls back onto her shoulder and begins slowly inserting a finger nice and slow.

"Regina you whore, speed it up," Cowan insists.

"No, I like to watch," I lie. Regina looks at me once more. It takes her three minutes before she gives me a nod and I move up behind her. Sliding in is no problem what so ever though I still take it easy.

"Shelia, move underneath her and tear that pussy up," Cowan directs. Sheila sixty-nines with Regina, licking her pussy from clit to ass including licking and sucking my balls. Cowan hooks Shelia's legs up and began pushing into her at a steady pace. From time to time he pulls out of Shelia's cunt and rams his cock down Regina's throat. Apparently Cowan likes being deep throated but I am not sure it is a pleasurable sensation or revenge, or both.

Regina climaxes first and Shelia laps her up hungrily, as if the comfort they can give one another is all they have. Cowan drives her on and Regina's clit continues to be attacked. Cowan shoots off next pulling out of Shelia and sitting back on the bed exuding vengeance. I reach beneath Regina and move my fingers over Shelia's mouth letting her suck on them instead of Regina and giving Regina a few moments to recover.

"You bastard," jokes Cowan, "how long does it take you to cum? Bang these bitches; we have them all night."

"Regina," I ask her, "do you want me to come?" She hesitates then shakes her head. "Then go down on Shelia. Make her scream." She nods and goes to work.

Cowan must have pushed Shelia close earlier because she rapidly begins panting and heaving her substantial bosom around. Regina responds too and this is my clue to picking up the pace. She proves she still has good muscle control by pushing up against me until she is resting and gyrating in my lap. I fire off into my condom in her ass and Regina pulsates faster and harder until she comes too.

Shelia rolls over and up onto her elbows to look at me and Regina. I let her untangle herself from me and fall to the other side.

"Christian you get off faster if you bang them harder," Cowan jokes.

"Boys fuck, men have sex," I instruct him. "You learn that in the service."

Cowan looks at me then laughs some more. I am pretty sure he's lost his mind.

"You make this too complicated. You pay for a date, you fuck the date, and you drop their ass off then get breakfast," he explains. "These two particular bitches are a bonus."

"We are right here you know?" Shelia said in in a voice tinged with anger and exhaustion.

"You want some blow? I have some in the nightstand," Cowan teases. That gets the two girls' attention. Shelia crawls over to the table and opens the drawer pulling a baggy, a straw, and a marble cutting board.

"Cowan, I can't believe you are using? That is fucking stupid," I rumble. We had all stayed out of drugs through high school.

Cowan slaps Shelia on her ass,

"The bitches like that, don't you Shelia and Regina? A little blow and you wouldn't imagine all the kinky shit Ms. High and Mighty Regina Blackburn won't do for you. Hell, we broke into school and I had her blow me at center court. Ms. Student Body President is a good little cocksucker," he informs me.

I have to admit the thought of Regina giving me a blowjob at the site of so many of her speeches when she in high school looking so sexual and powerful and unobtainable at the same time is exciting. It makes my cock twinge yet again. I sit back and watch the three snort up some coke and bask in the drug induced afterglow.

The sex that follows is enthusiastic but uninspired. Cowan gets silly and has a hard time performing with Regina while Shelia acts like ... well a whore. I take them back around two in the morning to their street corner. At that moment I am happy this whole episode of my life is behind me. Then next day Jewel comes by my apartment and gives me ten thousand dollars in cash for my part in the whole kidnapping affair. I tell her it isn't necessary but she insists.

(Two weeks later)

I find myself doing a favor for Cowan that brings me back to downtown. All he needs me to do is act frightening and stay out of the way. It turns out to be a drug deal and the only person I feel like shooting is him. When we get out of the meet he pulls me aside and presses two thousand dollars into my hands and tells me what a good job I'd done.

I want to know exactly how I was supposed to kill the five guys with guns we were facing. I wasn't fucking Rambo. He reminds me that I was Special Forces. I curse him out in the four foreign languages I'd learned while in service, none of which could kill at a glance which leads me back to facing down five guys with guns if things had gone bad.

I'm cruising back to my apartment when I suddenly spot Regina on her corner. Shelia is nowhere in sight. For some strange reason I choose to roll up and say hi.

"Regina, what are you doing?" is my lame line.

"Looking for you," is her equally lame reply. I'm not sure why I say what came next.

"Up for an all-nighter," I ask. She stares at me a second then nods.

"Sure thing," she says with a smile that might have been genuine. When she sits down in the passenger seat she blanches noticeably. "You have a piece," she notices my gun.

"Pulling a dumbass stunt with Cowan," I begin noting her scowl at Cowan's name, "that required me to be a bad man."

"You are a bad man?" she questions me.

"I was US Army Special Forces which really means I know how to eat bugs and speak a few languages, but I can fight pretty well too," I explain.

"Have you ever had to kill somebody?" she inquired with some actual interest.

"Yes, a good number of people to the point it doesn't bother me much anymore. That is why I left --I had stopped caring," I explain.

"I've never met someone like that. I mean, I've met people so drugged out they could kill but no one who did it professionally," she notes.

"Well, who would have thought it; school valedictorian to whore and class nonentity to unemployed killer. What a pair we make?" I joke. "So what led you to this place?" Regina looks at me.

"Let's not go there Christian," she states sadly. "Let's just say I'm whore and leave it at that."

I hand her $300 and she puts it in her purse.

"Okay, now I'm paying you and I want to know your story," I insist. I can tell Regina takes a moment to decide whether or not to give me my money back but clearly her hunger for drugs and the necessity of paying her pimp make her keep it.

"At the end of high school I started dating Earl Meyers," she begins. "Right before I started college I discovered I was pregnant. Earl ended up wrapping his motorcycle around a tree ... in Wyoming," she sighs. "My parents threw me out and I made a run at school anyway, but between raising my daughter and school I got hooked on pills to keep me going."

"I ended up owing my dealer some money and I began working it off in trade. I began to take coke to dampen the edge off of what I was doing. Then I got busted for possession and prostitution; they took my daughter away and here I am," she grinds out angrily. "Happy now?"

"Do you know how you end a blood feud in Afghanistan?" I ask.

"No," she responds rather uninterested.

"You kill off all the male members of the offending family," I persist. "My group was working with a widow with two sons, age nine and five."

"Their father had worked in the Afghan Army before he died; we knew him and we felt we owed him. He had a feud with another family that we knew nothing about. One day we found the nine year old dismembered on his mother's doorstep. Do you know what we did? We gathered up all nine male members of the offending family and tied them to an IED; we blew them to hell -- feud ended."

"That was when I knew I'd gone too far and the service agreed," I say.

"Do you like to kill?" she inquires intently.

"I don't mind it," I confess. "I feel most alive when my life is on the line. It is a rush that's hard to kick."

"When the sex is good I feel the same way. Normally it is crap and I need the drugs to get me through the day, but that's life now," Regina confides.

"I've seen that look before; you don't need to save me Christian," she continues. "I'm a whore."

"Who says I'm trying to save you Regina? You are a great fuck and I'm making up for lost time; nine years since high school," I inform her.

"We wouldn't have hooked up in high school," she counters.

"But you would hook up with Earl Myers? I always hated his ass," I point out.

"He was a free-spirit," she responds.

"He took no responsibility for his actions Regina; he never did. Girls thought that he was cool because he always did his own thing but that was because he never hung around to face the music, you and your daughter -- case in point," I shoot back. She doesn't have a comeback for that.

We silently pull up to my apartment and go upstairs.

"Blowjob?" she offers as we stand in my entryway. I nod and she gets down on her knees. Right when I think it is business as usual she looks up at me and smiles seductively. She pulls my zipper down and works my cock out of my briefs.

Her cheeks make this beautiful bowed in effect as she sucks the first quarter in. She bobs up and down with gentle care, working the shaft with her saliva covered hand. She has me off in less than eight minutes, licking her lips and standing back up. Before she pulls away I draw her up and kiss her. She looks momentarily confused but that passes. I've paid for the night after all.

"Say something for me," I command. Regina nods. "Tell me to fuck you like I own you."

"Christian, fuck me like you own me," she says demurely which I think is a nice touch. We strip off our clothes as we make our way to my bedroom. She crawls onto the bed looking over her shoulder at me, a smoldering look in her eyes.

"Why me and not Shelia?" she asks while she holds that pose and I move up behind her narrow hips and waist, rubber covered cock rocking back and forth.

"I've always had more of a thing for smarts than cup size," I relate to her. She arches an eyebrow and shrugs slightly.

"Guys prefer her more than me. I'm usually her tag-along," she relates.

"Most guys aren't too bright," I point out. She backs into me as I rub both of her hips and line up to enter her. She did not immediately respond so I push my member into her lips. I am stunned how wet she is. She rocks back into me.

"You want me to fuck you don't you?" I tease her.

"Are you man enough to get the job done?" she shoots back in with some of the wit I remembered from high school. I push back and soon we are moving with more energy than last time. Thanks to the blow job I am easily able to outlast her to orgasm. This time I roll her over as she finishes and dive into her pussy and have her trying to yank out my hair in less than five minutes.

"Lick my face clean," I order when I have gotten her off the second time. A bit breathless she still goes at it with gusto all the while I am rubbing her breasts.

"Can I ask you something? Two things actually," Regina says.

"Sure," I answer. "If you upset me I still have a condom and your ass is untouched." I emphasize this by rubbing a hand along her ass cheek.

"Do I deserve the hate that Cowan throws my way? Was I that arrogant a bitch?" she asks.

"No and yes; you don't deserve how Cowan feels. He's always had some hate inside him for people with more than him -- better grades, more popular, cleverer. We -- his close friends --sort of diverted that while we were all in school, but he's become mean since then."

"Face it thought; you blew off most guys and girls. You were on the top of the social pyramid and you had no problem putting other people in their place and you humiliated more than a few," I finish off.

"I guess I did," she sighs. "Why don't you hold it against me?"

"What would be the point? I can screw you without any of the hate; you are a whore. In the end, Cowan is the one giving you a livelihood with his hard earned money, so who is the joke really on?" I point out. That makes her laugh at the irony. "What is the second thing you wanted to ask?"

"Can I lay here a while with you?" she says hesitantly.

"You are my bitch to fuck all night long," I respond. She nods. "Fine, put your hand on my chest and your leg over my leg." She does as requested but soon realizes that is all I want her to do so she relaxes and laying still.

"You are a fool to throw your money like this," she tells me after a while.

"You are not home yet," I tease her.

"Christian, could we make this a weekly thing," she says hopefully. It occurred to me that such an arrangement could be really useful to her. As Regina points out, she isn't the most attractive piece of ass on the block.

"Get me a condom and some lube," I reply. She crawls down to her purse and gets one then comes back and puts it on, the last one having lost its usefulness. I roll her over onto her side facing away from me then lube up a finger and slowly work it in. Regina wiggles her ass to help me get the first finger in, followed by a second and a third.

She starts getting really excited by the time I finally place my cock at her opening. Like a pro she relaxes and lets me slide on in. She most likely has had anal sex earlier today but I don't mind. She rapidly begins working her anal muscles to massage my cock like no other hooker I've ever met; since I had never had an actual girlfriend that was saying something.

When I come I am covered in sweat and she is rubbing her clit furiously getting herself off as well. By the time I have her undivided attention she is reaching around and rubbing my hair and pulling my lips into her neck.

"Did I pass the test?" she questions.

"There was no test Regina. I wanted to fuck you again so I did. I had already decided to make this a weekly thing right after you asked. It is nothing personal; you are just a great lay," I reply.

"You know if you want to do it on a weekend it is $450," she suggests. It is a hundred-fifty more, but a weekend night might be better.

"I'll think about it," I promise her.

(Five days later)

The second man is dead before the first one hits the ground. The other six assailants are scrambling to get their guns out. Cowan shows rare bout of common sense be running around the car behind me. I bag two more before they all reach cover. The key to setting an ambush is to keep the ambush secret; a task these guys have failed.

My opponents haven't been too smart and they certainly aren't very good shots. Having half their number being dead or very nearly dead isn't doing much for their morale either. These guys are drug dealers; I am a professional killer. They know guns but Uncle Sam trained me to kill quickly and efficiently.

I am behind the closest car with shots ringing off while I put in a fresh clip. Firing at someone trying to keep their heads down only works if you know where they are. Otherwise all you do is let them know where you are and waste bullets. The big guy with the Mac is screaming his head off so I cut around the far side and put a round through his neck; not a great way to die.

Before the last three can adjust I cover the distance to the car closest to them. I punch it and come around while this guy is still looking over the hood trying to figure out where I am. I put two in his chest. At this time numbers seven and eight decide to run. Like most good soldiers I shoot them in the back. Short of the Zombie Apocalypse dead enemies don't come back and get you.

I pop in a fresh clip and begin going over the bodies while Cowan looks over the leader and his briefcase of cash. Cowan is ecstatic while I am on the verge of murder.

"What the fuck is going on?" I growl.

"I'm expanding my business," he admits.

"Dude, I'm not your enforcer," I shout as we head for the car.

"I beg to differ," he grins wildly. "You just put a major hole in my competition. I only agreed to this meeting so I could lure them out and let you take care of the problem."

"Fucker, we could have both died; there were eight of them," I snarl.

"I knew you could handle them Christian," he smiles.

"You know nothing about fighting Cowan so don't give me that crap. I didn't sign on for any drug war. I came back home to get away from this," I swear.

"I couldn't tell it by watching you work Christian. You are an artist," he gloats.

Funny, I don't think artists tie eight year old boys to bombs. I have nothing else to say to Cowan until he drops me back at my car. He hands me an envelope with $5000 in it. I am not sure if I hate him more for giving it to me or for me for taking it. I find myself giving Regina a call.

"What happened?" she immediately asks when she gets into the car.

"It is Thursday; why don't I pay you for the entire weekend?" I answer. Regina is floored. This is a ton of money for her and hopefully means a lot less time on her knees. This also has her worried.

"What does this mean?" she repeats carefully.

"I had some work to do," is all I feel safe saying. Regina knows what I mean; someone somewhere has died violently.

"Let's go to my place and let me pick up some things," Regina suggests.

I get directions and go to her little flat she shares with Shelia. She gathers up some stuff, calls her pimp with the good news. He laughs at her and warns her to get the money up front.

"How do you dump this guy?" I ask.

"It is complicated. I have to work his section of the neighborhood; without him I can't safely work. For that I give him a cut of what I make, plus he handles my rent and ... drugs," Regina confesses.

"How much does he take?" I inquire.

"$300 a week plus sixty percent," she responds.

"That is twelve blowjobs a week only to break even? Then he tacks on rent and drugs ... that's around how much? $400 more," I do the math. Regina who is much smarter than I am looks ashamed.

"If I have a good week I can put some away," she clearly lies to me. Any spare cash she has goes up her nose.

"Get your stuff and let's go," I tell her. I've paid for her and she is mine now. She gets some 'stuff' and shows me some of her whore clothes for the weekend. I remind her to bring plenty of condoms. I tell her she is my whore after all, which is the first time I see some emotion behind my saying that. On the way back to my place I try something.

"What would you prefer me to call you; whore, prostitute, or hooker?"

"How about Regina?" she responds softly.

"I like Regina," I affirm which caused her to give off a small sigh.

"Why don't you have a real girlfriend?" she inquires a little later.

"Why do I need one when I have you?" I answer.

"Christian, you pay me to be with you," she points out.

"And this is different from a girlfriend how?" I grin. "Besides, what would I do with a full-time girlfriend; when I need companionship I have you and when I want to be alone I don't need to make excuses."

At my place she attempts a blowjob once inside the door but I pull her to the sofa and tear her clothes off of her and fuck her hard while running my fingers over her sides and under her arms. She laughs and giggles until she comes. Then I pull her down to the floor on top of me and have her ride me to an orgasm of my own then she is good enough to clean me up with those gorgeous lips of hers.

I decide to have a little more fun so I order some pizza and have Regina answer the door in only her flimsiest bra and thong. She tips the delivery guy with a blowjob too. I imagine that the local joint will be killing themselves to get pizzas to my place for months. Wiping a dribble of cum from the corner of her mouth she looks over at me.

"Is that some sort of high school fantasy of yours?" she grins.

"Hell yes," I answer. "That kid will be telling people about this pivotal moment in his life for years."

"Pivotal moment?" she wonders.

"You underestimate the effect of the sexually clad beautiful female form on the underdeveloped teenage boy's mind," I explain. Regina looks at me strangely then I realized that I've called her beautiful and it has been a long time since someone has called her that and meant it. She comes over and puts the pizza down beside me on the sofa.

I take hold of her hands and keep her standing in front of me pulling her close until I am breathing on her stomach. I gave it a light kiss then began running my hands lovingly over her slender curves.

"What are you ..." she starts but I hush her. I go back to exploring every inch of her occasionally bringing her stomach closer for another lick or kiss. She rewards me with a steady quickening of the breath.

"Get us some plates so we can eat," I order her when she is sufficiently aroused. Considering the lethargic, emotionally stunted woman I'd seen only a few weeks ago I am a bit taken aback by her skipping off to my tiny kitchen to get us plates. We serve up several slices and watch some TV while we eat. I take a fingerful of tomato paste and dab it between her breasts.

She smiles innocently and lowers my head to her chest and let me lick it up.

"I owe you a good licking for that," she purrs. Either her acting is truly impressive or Regina is enjoying things despite our current circumstance. We finish eating; chuckle and I sling an arm around her as we relax. Regina puts her hand in my lap.

"I want something with that," Regina tells me but then she ruins the moment, "let me go to the bathroom to freshen up." She is flying when she comes out of the bathroom and I feel some real anger aimed at her. "Let me take care of that now," she murmurs happily. She pulls my shorts down and starts to lick on my cock.

She is a bit sloppy and loose so I start pushing her head farther and farther down until I am massaging the back of her throat. I am punishing her for her addiction and what I feel it robs me of the old damn Regina. As I shoot my load down her throat I push her to the bedroom and begin spanking her ass.

"Ow!" she whimpers, "what did I do wrong?"

"You are nothing but a lousy whore Regina," I growl back at her.

"Christian," she sobs, "I thought you liked me."

"Why did you have to do the damn coke Regina?" I snap as I continued to spank her bottom.

"It makes me feel better," she tries to explain. "I need it." She sounds so piteous I stop spanking her. I can't make her change. I can't stand seeing her stoned out of her mind. I want Regina for the weekend and all I have is a whore; well fuck me. I let my rage pour out of me for the next few hours and Regina is my vessel. I bite her, slap her, and fuck her in all her holes. I am done with her.

Regina shakes me awake; it is still dark outside but the light from the streetlamps let me see her clearly. She's been crying.

"Why do you hate me?" She has clearly sobered up but has only a fraction of the memories of what has happened. I look at her. I could call her she's a whore again and be done with it.

"You let me down Regina. Maybe I asked too much of you. I've never been addicted so I don't know what you are going through. I know I can't be around you while you are doing and since you won't stop I can't be around you and the most fucked up thing about that is you are the strongest sexual relationship I've ever had," I explain.

Regina looks at me as if she can't believe what she is hearing.

"You are a bastard," she tells me angrily as she hops out of bed.

"Get back here," I command calmly. "You are still mine for the weekend and if you leave I'll only tell your pimp and let him deal with you." Regina spins back around distraught.

"Why are you doing this to me? I thought you were different," she pleads.

"Because not being in control of your life sucks Regina," I explain. I take a deep breath. "Regina, I tell you what; you try to control your coke habit around me and I'll try to not be a bastard when you are high."

She doesn't look happy with the deal.

"Come here," I tell her. Reluctantly she complies until she is kneeling back on her haunches on the bed with me holding her hands. "I apologize. I wanted more than you could deliver."

"Are you making fun of me?" she asks carefully.

"No," I reply.

"Okay. What are going to do the rest of the weekend?" Regina asks rubbing her spanked ass and thighs.

"How about dinner and a movie tonight?" I suggest.

"Are you going to fuck me?" she questions.

"Long and hard until the sun rises," I answer her but she's not offended.

"Are you going to kill anybody?" she said carefully, still not sure where we stood yet.

"Are you going to piss off someone so much I need to kill them," I state plainly.

"You kill people just like that?" she inquires.

"Only for people I like," I point out. She stares at me. "Yes, I'm serious." Regina sits down next to me and sort of leaned against me for a while. She doesn't stay off coke and I try to not get too angry. She satisfies me sexually because Cowan is an idiot; Regina's creativity trumps Shelia's curves every time.

(Wednesday)

"Christian," Regina says in a very shaky voice, "I'm in trouble."

"What is it?" I say evenly.

"Can you come down to the Quasar Club? There are some guys who want to talk with you," she gulps. I could say something stupid like 'are you in danger' but that's a given.

"Tell them if I don't see you when I enter it will go badly," I instruct her. I don't wait for a reply. A quick stock of the situation gives me few options. A club during business hours doesn't allow me to go in guns blazing. I'll never get where I need to go. I absolutely can't rely on Cowan so I'm alone. I decide to be punctual for my own funeral.

I walk up to the front of the line to get in. The two bouncers at the door give me a leery eye. I'm not club material.

"Christian Talle," is all I feel is necessary to say. They let me in but I am immediately taken aside and searched. They are good enough to even search my ankles. One of the two large black men brings me deeper into the club.

Up on the second level around a crescent shaped sofa is a view that allowed the privileged to look down on the lesser masses through thick glass is a bevy of hot looking club girls, nine armed men, and the man clearly in charge. Regina sits on the periphery with one of the armed bodyguard's hands on her shoulder. The leader is a strongly built handsome black man with a clear sense of authority and power. He could have been a colonel in the military.

The gaze he sends my way isn't friendly to say the least. The leader doesn't even address me right off.

"Was he carrying?" he addresses the man who'd searched me.

"Nothing Jamal," the man answers. The leader chuckles and shakes his head.

"Well, you are one dumbass," Jamal addresses me. Jamal Foster was Cedric Foster's oldest son and heir to the criminal empire. I gave him this much, he doesn't gloat or taunt me.

"Take him out back, stomp him flat and put him to the Yard," he tells one of his minions. The Yard means the car crusher that has given his old man his name; Cedric Crusher Foster.

I doubt this will be a pleasant way to die. Curtis sits back down with his companions and motions four of his goons to manhandle me toward the back of the club. Thankfully he must have a different fate for Regina because he doesn't send her with us. At the back of the club we enter a narrow service walkway. When we get pass the last storeroom I turn to one of the men who holds me by my upper arm.

"Do you know what I love about gunfights?" I ask smiling. Before he can respond, I answer. "There is always a gun around when you need it." I smash my head back into the nose of the goon behind me. When his grip weakens I break free and smash my fist into the first guy's throat. Everyone is moving but I have the advantage that there is no one in these tight confines I don't want to shoot.

I grab the first guy's gun out of his holster and pump one into the man's chest. The second guy wraps his arms around me so I pivot so that he is between me and the remaining two goons. I push the gun around and shoot him in the side. When his grip slips, I spin around and put a round in his chest too.

Now the second guy begins to catch bullets sent my way but he is big enough to block them. As the dead man's body slumps to the ground I kneel down and put two bullets in each of their chests. I'm a trained killer remember? I drop the first gun, take the second guy's gun, and grab up the third man's gun before going back where I've come from.

Speed is of the essence; there is no way all our shots had gone totally unnoticed. I come back through the door while bringing up a mental map of the room and try to divine where people might be moving. When I pass through the door I notice only one of the bodyguards has turned around, his hand over the holster in his coat but nothing pulled out.

I put two in that guy's chest. Jamal is turning around to see what is going wrong when I put my first bullet downrange. The shot catches him right behind the ear and splattered his brains against the glass wall that was meant to protect him. Three men in the sitting area are moving, but only one is of direct threat, the man who has his hand on Regina. Two shots hit him center mass and he spins away.

I let the first gun drops and I switch the spare to my right hand as I bend over and run to the side opposite Regina. I keep at a run until I came around the far side opening. One guy is looking right at me but his gun is down, the other two have their backs to me and are looking in the direction I've entered the room form.

I put two shots into each of them. The last guy gets a shot off and some girl is screaming her head off. That is not my damn problem. I go over to Regina and grab her by her arm and yank her down the stairs. The bouncer who had escorted me comes running my way. I point a gun in his face and he raises his hands.

"Tell Cedric he's got six kids left. If he doesn't want to lose anymore he'll stop coming for me," I growl. The man's eyes grew wide; I doubt this is what he wants to tell the criminal kingpin. I push past him and storm out of the club.

"It wasn't me," Regina pleads and sobs. I've scared the hell out of her.

"I know," I say eerily serene voice.

"It was Cowan," she stammers then adds, "How did you know it wasn't me?"

"You don't have my phone number Regina and I haven't told anyone else about you. It had to be him," I explain. Regina remains at my side as we make our way home.

"What now?" she asks.

"I make a phone call," I answer. I give Cowan a call.

"How do you want it?" is the first words out of my mouth. No explanation or excuses necessary.

"We can talk about this," Cowan responds. "Meet me at Jewel's and we can talk it out."

"Cowan, get ready to die," I tell him before I hang up.

I give Regina thousand dollars and a choice of running back to the streets or hiding at my place. I don't wait for her decision, I take three handguns and head back out. I check out Jewel's place to make sure the police haven't closed in yet. I come around the back and give Jewel a call. I have her come out back so I can meet her.

"Christian, I need to explain some things to you; we all need to explain some things to you," she insists frantically. Her eyes keep flashing down to the guns in my hands and back to my eyes.

"Inside," I command evenly. I'm not really interested in anything Jewel has to say were Cowan is concerned. Betrayal is usually a pretty clear affair.

I walk into the main sitting area of Jewel's house when I see the whole school gang assembled, Cowan included. I don't like the look of this at all. Only Cowan has the good sense to look frightened.

"Christian, we need to talk," Kris stands and addresses me.

"Make it quick; I don't have long," I tell him.

"Christian you have been working for us since you came back and we want to bring you into the operation now. You have done a lot to establish a presence in the drug market in the city. We've been creating and manufacturing the product, Cowan has been setting up the distribution, and you have been removing those who have been horning in on our action," he explains.

"Dallas is our chemist, Kris handles production, Alton handles the book keeping, and I handle the legal side of things. Cowan does the actually selling of our product," Jewel outlines further.

"You are drug dealers," I clarify with deadly intent.

"The economy has been hard all over," Kris answers.

"I want no part of this," I growl. "Why the fuck did you bring me into something I wanted no part of?"

"We tried to bring you in as Cowan's enforcer when you came back Christian and we needed someone to protect us and our business interests. Cowan said he could bring you around," Jewel says.

"I wanted to work at a damn gym," I snap then things came together.

"There was no ransom; the kid was being held so old man Foster could take your business over," I grind out.

"I knew you could kill Jamal too," Cowan gives me that crazy grin.

"We need you," Jewel pleads. My friends have gotten greedy and short sighted in my absence. Jewel hurts the worst because she had kept up with me this whole time.

"You are going to need our help with Foster now," Alton says as he joins the conversation. He was always the smart one.

"That's right Alton and whose fault is that? Fuck that; there are only two questions that matter: do I join up and who walks out of this room alive?" I tell them all.

"Christian, we are a team; we have always been," Kris points out. My glare shuts him up then I turn and walk out. Killing them doesn't keep me alive. Not killing them won't help much either.

"What does that mean?" I hear Alton ask.

"Since he didn't kill us I imagine he's in," Jewel answers.

"I told you guys this would work out fine," Cowan chortles.

"Shut up," I catch Jewel saying before I exit the scene.