Double Gun Dealer Boxed Set Page 8

  I opened my closet up and pulled out a shirt, tie and pants. The jacket would come later. I stood in the mirror and brushed my hair. I placed some gel in it and grinned as a memory of the pink haired girl riding me in my shower infiltrated my mind. Ava right? I touched my lips, thinking of the kiss and then looked up to see my reflection and laughed again. No one would ever know how much I long for connection and yet I am always alone. I have been my whole life but a kiss…I closed my eyes and tried to kill her memory but it is damn near impossible. She made me feel, well…she made me feel something. I would take something over nothing any day.

  I stepped out of my apartment and the day was beautiful, sky so blue and the air was fresh like spring was here, but it is not yet. I walked to my car and pulled my keys out and then I heard it, low at first and then louder and I looked up to see something swooping in the sky above me. I then noticed her walking towards me…Ava. And although this meant that everything was real, all of it, I was almost relieved to see her. She pulled a cigarette out, flipped it in her fingers and smiled at me.

  “So this is all real then? “

  “I fixed your door and shower, I felt shitty, although we have to leave now.”

  “Where?”

  “Where all demon hunters go, Salem, I am here to wake you up.”

  “My name is Brian, I live in Salem,” I said and she grinned at me.

  “Not anymore. Smoke?” she asked me as she tossed the cigarette up and pulled her two guns and glowing orb.

  “I don’t smoke,” I said as I lowered by the car realizing I was now finally awake to the world as she spun around and broke the orb on the ground and demon descended upon us in slow motion...

  Book Three

  “LIN”

  “I don’t fucking care one bit. If I can’t shoot like you think I should, then I can’t.” I said as I tossed the gun and it slid across the floor. Sai watched me with no signs of irritation and to me that is the biggest crock of shit ever. I know I am a bitch. At least I admit it, some people just float around in a fake ass bubble and pretend to be something they are not, smiling and hugging and then talking shit behind people’s backs, but I am not that cunt. I am just over this whole thing, this whole crazy fucking story. Sai had been my mentor here in the demon-hunting house, London was the one who retrieved me. I guess Sai was busy fighting off some huge attack or some shit...oh fucking wait, I guess a good story starts in the beginning so here we go…hold onto to your tits.

  ****

  “Son of a bitch.” I mumbled as I placed my finger to my mouth and sucked on it. I always cut myself with sharp objects. It is like they fucking lurk behind every corner and just place bets on when one of them will mess me up. I walked to the sink, sucking on the blood and swallowing it, grinning slightly as the TV was playing some vampire teeny movie and someone mentioned vampires and bloodsucking. I turned the cool water on in my sink and placed my hand under it. I hissed slightly as the force of the water peeled back the newly made gash but I am used to this honestly, I mean when I was growing up there was no hugging or kiss the boo boo crap going on. I grew up with nuns who liked to smack a hand for any old reason. Even for giggling, so childhood was, let’s just say…quiet and boring except for the trouble I always started and followed through on. I was a bit of a roughneck, and when pushed I go off. I have a bad temper. Probably from, oh I don’t know…being dumped off by a teenage whore of a Mother who thought that I was going to muck up her cheerleading career? Well, that bitch can suck my ball sack. I mean if I had one, but you get me.

  I turned as the TV played music a bit too loud just in time to see the kissing scene. I walked to it, tilted my head as I held my hand up and grinned at the teenagers making out. That would have been nice, to date like that. I mean to find myself in the backseat of a car getting my boobs groped. I would have enjoyed it in my teenage years but I am 22, working a shitty job with little to no time to get much of anything grabbed. I glanced at the clock and raised an eyebrow.

  “Oh fuck me sideways.” I said as I ran to the door, grabbing my coat in the process and then hopping on one foot as I placed one high heel on and then the other. I grabbed my keys and out the door I went, almost falling in the hallway as Mr. Linure stood in his doorway and rubbed his belly watching me as I leaned against the wall and adjusted my heel yet again. I looked up and narrowed my eyes at him.

  “It is rude as hell to stare.”

  He grinned and stopped rubbing his stomach, still looking me over as I rolled my eyes and started to head to the elevator. I pressed the button and then hunched my shoulders as he crept up behind me like herpes on a public toilet and started to breathe a bit too heavily. I tapped my heel and looked at my watch again and looked up as the old ass vintage arrow over the door moved up to our floor.

  “I have blueberries.”

  I sighed and looked down and then turned, as I had to back up a step to avoid our faces doing a mating ritual of some fucked up sort.

  “Mr…”

  He smiled again and smelled like curry, which is my absolute nemesis.

  “Bobby.” He said and I sighed yet again.

  “I really appreciate the fact that you have blueberries…Bobby.” I said as I glanced up and the arrow was still trying its best to save me.

  “They are out of season.”

  I looked back at him as he smiled.

  “I did not know.” I said and he looked down my legs and I snapped my fingers and he looked back up into my eyes.

  “I give you a slight pass due to the fact that you are …oh, how do I say it Bobby? Oh! Batshit crazy. Normally I would have smacked someone up upside the head already so you need to behave, got me?” I said to him and he grinned even bigger.

  “I have whip cream to go with them.”

  “I am very happy for you Bobby.”

  The door dinged open behind me and I turned, pulled on the strap and the gates opened, it is an old school elevator as is the building. I am not exactly rich but I had upgraded last year and moved from “you may get shot at once a week” to “you may get mugged once a month.” So I have to say I am happier here then I was downtown. BUT…I inherited Bobby as a neighbor and if I have to listen to him moaning through my bedroom wall one more fucking time while he says my name and jacks off I am going to toss him out the window with his arsenal of pills he takes for all of his disorders, like the one that won’t let him go outside the building, or even in the elevator. So I knew stepping in would save me to a certain degree. I ran in just as he reached for my ass and laughed and I turned and grinned, more of a fuck you as he stood there and teetered on the hallway carpet and elevator floor line. He looked down and so did I as he took a step back and let his disorder stop him once again. I reached up and grabbed the strap as he watched me.

  “Be home late Marcy?”

  I shook my head yes and slammed the gates closed.

  “Eat your blueberries Bobby.” I said and I reached out and pressed the button for the ground floor and the doors closed as he chewed on his fingernails and leaned to watch me until it cut him off from view. I leaned back and sighed again, glancing up at the mirrored ceiling and then pulling my lipstick from my bag and placing it to my lips, doing the best I could until the damn elevator jerked and I ran it up my cheek and the f bomb was an appropriate response to that. Then the elevator stopped and I looked at the button, all lit up on 7 and I tapped it a few times as I hoped like hell it had not broken down. I may hate my job at the bar but it is what pays the bills and being late is not an option. My boss is a dickhead of the worst kind, in fact if I fucked him like the other bartenders and waitresses did I am sure I would get better shifts but his hairy ass disgusts me and even closing my eyes and fantasizing about a man who would get me off…you know, tall, dark handsome, nice lips…nice shoulders to hang onto when saying “YES!” then I would be able to fuck him like a rock star but I can’t, he disgusts me and somewhere along the line, randomly fucking people never worked for me. Probably another thing
my Mom left for me, a fear of being like her in any fucking way. I won’t, ever. I hate her. The doors opened as I messed with the button and a man stepped up and opened the gates. I stepped back as I ignored him. I don’t know anyone in this building and I don’t want to. It is enough I let Bobby coax me into telling him my name. I normally don’t. In fact I don’t tell anyone anything. I lie about my name to customers at the bar, half of them drunk ass men looking for pussy and I am not that girl either.

  The man stepped into the elevator as I stepped back. I pulled my small compact and looked into it, shaking my head at the lipstick smear. I started to wipe it with my finger when a white handkerchief popped into my face and I looked at it and shook my head at it.

  “I am fine.”

  “I can see that.” The man said and I rolled my eyes and looked up at him as he pulled the handkerchief back and as I opened my mouth the words stuck in my throat. I mean, he was…uhh. Fucking hot. I mean as in level what the fuck hot. I swallowed and looked back into my compact trying to contain my sudden rush of adrenaline. He was tall, dark, handsome…you know, all the shit I just mentioned in my constant internal conversation.

  He reached out and wiped my cheek anyway and helped clean me up. His fingers touched my skin and I jumped on him, knocking him back and letting my tongue part his lips like the red sea with no mercy. I reached between us, moaning and wanting him in me so badly my pussy ached, and any woman knows what that means, it almost hurts with anticipation. I jerked at his zipper and hissed as I felt the gash on my finger re-open and with that I fell off of my couch and hit the floor in a thud, dropping my forehead to the wooden floor and sighing. Could I just once have a fucking sex dream and actually get to the fucking? Shit! I then heard knocking on my door and stood up, my head a bit dizzy and my finger aching a bit from the cut earlier. I had been trying to make a salad, of which I sliced my finger open and then fell asleep watching some vampire movie and the rest is…

  I opened the door and Bobby stood there, my strange and enamored next door neighbor who liked me more than I thought possible. He suddenly pulled a bowl from behind him and deja vu from hell.

  “I have blueberries.”

  I glanced at them and grinned.

  “I see that.”

  “Want some?”

  “I would love that but I…”

  I looked up at the clock and holy shit I am late to work. FUCK.

  I started to shut the door and Bobby leaned as I nodded to him.

  “Go home Bobby.” I said and then I slammed the door, ran to my bedroom as I stripped off the shirt and jeans, bouncing on the bed and damn near hitting the floor. I popped up, ran to the closet and fingered down the row until I found a short dress, what I refer to as “better tips”, grabbed it, snapped up my matching black heels and ran out, slipping it on, foregoing my bra and slipping my heels on. I snatched a brush from my dresser as I ran by it, swiped it through my long blue hair and then tossed it and slipped my coat on, snatching keys and out the door I went in a flash.

  The bar was full as always. That, I guess, is one positive with the bullshit you endure with drunk fucks. I mean if I drank at all I could laugh and get off on the dumb shit they say when they are whoopin' it up and being obnoxious, but I am not here for entertainment at all. I live alone, I have bills alone and I am trying my best to move up in life…alone. I know I say that a lot, but I mean it. But…a dick would be nice, I mean a real one. I have a vibrator like everyone else but I want a kiss. It doesn’t have to be one filled with mushy love, I mean a kiss that rocks you back from the passion of it. One that runs the heat wave down the spine and settles…

  “Wine?”

  I looked up as my internal convo was so rudely interrupted and started to open my mouth and there he was, tall, dark, handsome guy from the elevator. I reached down and pinched my arm to make sure I was actually awake this time and I hissed as my nail cut into my skin and my gash re-opened yet again. I placed my finger to my lips and he watched me closely, I mean close like 'wanna get some' close. I am okay with that. Normally I would be mega shitty but man, he is fucking hot. I guess we all have our things, he is definitely mine but don’t get me wrong, I am not all falling over and with that I stepped sideways and down I went like a lump of dumb shit. I sighed and just decided to stand up and forget it. Hot guy that is and just handle his order and not be tempted to flirt of which I suck at anyway.

  “Are you okay?” he said and I eyed him for a moment and then grinned.

  “Yeah, British?” I said to him as his accent was thick and he leaned forward and watched me as I sucked my finger one more time, causing him to hesitate in his answer.

  “Yes…you don’t sound German, so I would assume you are not from Lindenberg.”

  “No, not originally. I have been a little bit of everywhere, but I was born in the states.”

  “American.”

  I tapped the bar and realized this was the longest non aggressive conversation I had had with a human in a long time and it made me uncomfortable as did the fact that I swear he was the same man in my dream. I glanced around the bar and then back to him.

  “We do have wine, red, white and some shit I call, the boss brews and charges to much for it.”

  He smiled at me and extended his hand, I don’t know what possessed me to take his hand, but I did and he shook it and I looked at him a bit puzzled. Manners do not run rampant in the bar usually.

  “London.” He said and I narrowed my eyes.

  “I have never been there.”

  “No, my name is London.” He said and I smiled.

  “Marcy, well Marissa if you want to get technical.” I said and he held onto my hand until I pulled it back hoping no one at the bar heard me use my real name. I would prefer to remain a “Sue” or “Tonya” to these people.

  “Not as nearly as pretty a name, as you are.”

  I laughed, not a ha-ha, but a giggle like a schoolgirl and had to clear my throat as I was making myself sick. I suddenly collected myself and returned to normal as the spell had to be broken. No one looking that good does not come without a bag of fuckall and I don’t need it, but I could use some fucking, I won’t lie about that.

  “Red.” He said and I watched his expression until I realized he was ordering.

  “Oh, right.” I said as I turned and caught a glimpse of him in the mirror above the register. He was still looking at me and then when he caught me looking back he turned and looked down the bar, tons of women in here tonight, as always, business mostly, with their high heels and tight skirts. They come on the weeknights like fireflies to the light. I wish more men did. Maybe the tips would be better if it was not a bunch of bitches looking to cheat. The men who do come are the ones jacked up on muscle this and that and looking to impress someone but we all know you do steroids you lose dick and what a waste. I prefer my men to be long and firm, not over-muscled and gross. I turned with the wine glass in my hand and set it down in front of him as he paused and looked at it.

  “Is a tab suitable?”

  “Sure.” I said although Vincent prefers tabs to not occur. We have had people run out before and leave the card, which ended up being stolen anyway. He pulled his black card and I smiled as he let me take it and again with the touching thing. His fingers grazed my hand and my arm tingled, fucking ridiculous on some schoolgirl crush level. I really need to get my shit together. He took a sip and then swallowed, looking a bit surprised at the quality of the wine.

  “This is really good.”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “You don’t drink?”

  “Nope.” I said as a woman to his left stepped up and looked him over, so cleverly leaning into him as she pretended to be a bit more drunk than she actually was. Women disgust me sometimes in this way. I mean why? Why pretend and not just be like…listen, I wanna fuck? Why act all wasted and then blame your whoredom on the alcohol? Crazy. He didn’t take the bait though and I have to admit there was a small piece of me that was happy a
bout that. She looked at me, and her expression changed as I was of no use to her but to feed her addiction.

  “Three bottles of St. Martin.” She said in her German accent. I turned and she called out to me again.

  “And wipe the bottles please, I don’t like fingerprints on my drink.”

  I sighed as I pulled the chilled bottles a popped the metal tops on them. She eyeballed me, determined to piss me off with a crazy request. Something they tend to do if they get turned down by a man of any sort in here and she was pissy, London had brushed her off. He turned to her and grinned.

  “If she wipes it and then you pick it up, won’t there be fingerprints on it.”

  She smiled and leaned up to him.

  “Mine, but I would let you finger my bottle if you wish.” She said all coy.

  I made a noise under my breath and looked down as she was just making me nauseous. London narrowed his eyes and leaned up into her ear and said something. She laughed and tapped him on the chest and then grabbed her beers and walked away. I tilted my head and he looked back to me.

  “Impressive…so when do you hook up?” I asked him and he sat down, which was strange but I liked it. He adjusted on the tall chair and laughed as he looked down.

  “They make these very odd for men.”

  “I agree, probably pinching huh?” I said as I grinned and he looked up and smiled too.