Mastering the Virgin Box Set Five: A BDSM Ménage Erotic Romance

Chapter 76

The Present - Klempner

“Out you come. You have visitors.”

Visitors?

Who the fuck’s going to visit me?

Some noseying lawyer I suppose….

The floor guard, Hartland, jerks his head at my door. Not that it doesn’t make a change to get out of the cell, but the insolent bastard gets on my nerves and makes a point of trying to do it.

“Come on, Larry. Step lively now.” He pokes a baton into the small of my back, jabbing harder than necessary to move me along.

Larry?

Little shite….

…. I'll make you eat your own liver for that one day….

“In you go, Larry.” Hartland juts his chin at the guard inside. “They’ve got half an hour with him if they want to use it all. See that Larry here behaves himself. Still thinks he’s someone does this one.”

“Yes, Mr Hartland.”

I don’t know the guard, but he is polite enough as he indicates the seat by the screen.

But as I look up and see my ‘visitors’, I hover, hesitating.

It’s her….

And one of the men….

…. Summerford….

What the hell are they doing here?

She sits on the other side of the glass screen. He leans against the back wall, arms folded, eyes flat. A couple of guards loiter, one to either side of the screen.

As I sit, her eyes follow me. Nothing else about her moves.

I flick my gaze to Blondie. “That’d be Michael then? Where’s the other one? James is it?”

Blondie shifts but doesn’t speak.

He looks dangerous….

And has proved that he is….

…. The muscle in their arrangement?

Her reply is curt. “Yes, this is Michael. And James isn’t here, because he’s recovering from when your friend Corby shot him.”

?

Shot him?

What else haven’t they told me?

Her eyes narrow, her head tilting. “You didn’t know about that?”

I don’t want to appear unsettled, try to be dismissive. “No, they’d not told me that.”

Ah…. Crap….

I’ve got to know….

“…. What’s his condition?”

“He’ll live, but it was touch and go for a while.”

“And Corby?”

“Dead. The police took him down.”

Suppose he was bound to get himself killed sooner or later.

Always was a charmless bastard….

“And why are you here…?”

Little ginger bitch….

“…. For that matter, why am I here?”

She licks her lips, scratching at a thumbnail with another thumbnail. “Will you talk to me?”

Talk to you?

Who let you in here little girl, just to talk?

You have powerful friends….

Got Haswell dancing your tune….

…. And he knows the Mayor, the Chief of Police….

I sit back, shrug, trying not to wince as I move my barely healed arms. “I don’t know. It depends what you want to ask. I don’t have a lot of incentive to co-operate, do I? They’re going to lock me up and throw away the key. And you’ll be testifying against me.”

What do you want, Jennifer?

Blondie snorts, coming up to her from behind. His arm on her shoulder. “You want to go? You’re going to get nothing from this one.”

She brushes him away. “No, not yet.”

That gesture, that dismissive let-me-be shrug suddenly bites, familiar and bitter.

Mitch’s daughter….

“So, how does it work then?” I ask, tossing my head at Blondie behind her.

She frowns. “How does what work?”

And suddenly I want to know….

How did you do it?

“You, with two of them? How does that work? Two men with one woman….” For a moment her mouth drops open, but I keep going….

You want to talk…. Talk….

“…. Okay, regardless of what I said when we met before, I know you’re not a whore. So, how does it work?”

She’s digging fingernails into her palm and her eyes lift to mine then slip away. “I don’t see that’s got anything to do with you.”

Come on Mitch’s Daughter…. Talk….

“Oh, you might be surprised…. You going to answer my question?”

Her eyes return to mine, hard as agates. “No, because I don’t see that it’s any of your business….”

Fuck you then….

“…. What’s your grudge against me?” she says. “You said it was because of Jenkins, but I don’t believe you. There’s more to it than that. It’s not really me at all, is it? It’s to do with my mother and father?”

“You’re going to testify against me. That hardly fills me with warmth.”

“I don’t believe that either. If that was it, you would simply have had me murdered. You wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble you have, to capture me, hurt me, make my life miserable….”

I chew a thumbnail. “Alright, Jennifer…”

“It’s Charlotte….”

“Alright, Charlotte. Quid pro quo. I’ll talk to you if you talk to me.”

“What do you mean? You hate me. Why would you want to talk to me?”

you, and how you

brow, shoving hands in his

says, “If in return, you’ll tell

fold aching arms, wishing I’d taken another

you know my mother and father? What were

Ah…. Mitch’s Daughter….

Conners’ Daughter….

pain and the shame and the dulcet bite of

“Did I?”

police that you did. And

I killed Frank Conners, yes; if you’re

Her eyelids flutter. “Why?”

was my friend, or I thought he was. It turned out I was

did you think he

out together, drinking, chasing women. You know, the things

“What was he like?”

type. Solid,

a good

You implying something?

Little bitch….

of

know you were a

try to trap

she leans back in her seat,

my mother? What

“She was a hooker.”

“I don’t believe you.”

don’t want

“Jennifer….”

“Charlotte….”

to believe me. But I assure you, she was a hooker, and rather a good one. She actually enjoyed what she

the interaction. Blondie watches as I talk, one

very defensive

said you ‘ran her’, with a string of

I wish….

were in one of the classier hotel bars downtown. Some of the call girls would hang out there, looking

Her face twists….

a professional. We thought she was just being…. friendly.

….. Mitch’s daughter….

a room for the night

sets. “So,

but actually good company. We both liked her. And she seemed to like us…. Really like us I mean, rather than just pretend to because that’s part of the job description. In the morning, we took her number, and later, we called her back. It went from there. We’d meet up with her a couple of

his voice low. “And then you realised, that you’d fallen for the woman you thought

jolt through me. Our eyes meet and for the first time, I see beyond his broad build, the blond hair. He’s standing close enough that I can see the deep, intense blue of

are in love with her.

of course, is

then sits by her.

Is he really interested?

the interest on

go with

Why not?

beats sitting in a

Talked about marrying her….” His brows raise.

is dry. “But a whore

Fuck you….

I lean back with my folded

says. “What did

What do I want…?

Mitch’s daughter….

…. Conners’ daughter….

to keep my voice level. The more I look at

want to know how you

eyelids lowering. She blinks

me you were testifying, I gave him instructions to find out as much as he could about

face

could out-stare a

try a

you auction yourself? You’ve grown up

Mitch’s daughter….

My dancing

men throwing themselves at you; throwing money at

my words. “I

Ahhh….

really would be a whore. I wanted to be myself, to go to university, have a life I chose. But I needed

hell’s she

to be a student and not get paid for another five

for a week, no holds barred, just to go

to college?” she snaps. “I needed the education

Why would…?

I’ve got looks, but a woman who relies just on that, always ends up as property at

she glares, almost daring me to disagree with

Is she right?

still alive Mitch, what

“So, you had your week with

her mother, she is very pale-skinned, but dots of colour show at her cheeks. “I had the money. I started

back? To the man, the men, that bought

“Yes, I did.”

Why…...?

“Why?”

Better than

What the fuck?

she shows outright aggression, leaning towards me, as close as she can before

a cat. “You dumped me in that hellhole at Blessingmoors.

jolt, twisting

Interesting reaction….

one along

Don’t be aggressive….

…. Keep her talking….

to

that

you went back because

again, arms folded. “No, they weren’t paying me. I went back because I wanted more of

Ah, Christ….

I am flipped back in time…. “You wanted them?

“Yes.”

“Both of them?”

“Yes, in different

Will she answer?

They didn’t try

where I expected anger, she looks indignant. “Choose? Why would I choose?

in love with Charlotte’s mother, and you made her choose between you. She chose Conners. And you murdered him for it and

me. The memory of seething anger and

the return of the rage and the

Mitch….

Where are you?

of looking, as though you were the

Angel….

Whore….

Clever, clever whore

Her smile

Her sly manipulation

belief that because I loved her, she had

I see her now, sitting in front of

Mitch’s daughter….

Conners’ daughter….

boils again, bright

And yet….

sits, her man

One of

The other, wounded….

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