Chapter 3

I walked into the warehouse of Pleckerman Parcel Services at precisely 6:55 am. Mr. Pleckerman demanded all employees be at work and standing next to their trucks at 7:00 am sharp, and that they have returned from their deliveries no later than 7:00 pm, unless an exception was granted. I clocked in, and ran down the dock to be in position as the bell rung. I drive a 28 foot box truck, the largest of the five trucks that Pleckerman owned. I also have the largest area of deliveries, and my truck is always filled nearly to the limit. I know it is because I am the most dependable and hardworking of all the employees there, even though I have heard the whispers about how Pleckerman takes advantage of me because I am a pushover. Those are obviously just rumors from one of the drivers who is jealous of my abilities and my trustworthiness.

Mr. Pleckerman thinks he is an original and an innovator, but I really think he is an imitator. I do not doubt he is making a lot of money, far more than I am, because he drives a Mercedes and wears expensive pink suits. In fact, we all wear pink at Pleckerman’s. We drive pink trucks, too. Most package delivery companies use dark colors like brown or blue, to hide the dirt and cardboard dust and keep the drivers looking clean through the day. Mr. Pleckerman, on the other hand, loves the color pink, and usually by the end of the day we look like we are wearing pink and brown polka-dot uniforms. The reason I think Mr. Pleckerman is an imitator is because of the slogan he came up with and put on the side of all of the trucks, as well as in his television commercials. “What does pink make you think!” He thinks it’s catchy, but most of my customers think it makes us look like pussies. I don’t really understand that, though, because the only pussy I have ever seen was covered by a lot of hair and didn’t look very pink to me. Regardless, every day I have to deal with people driving by, honking car horns at me, and for some weird reason flashing me a “V for victory” sign while sticking their tongue between their fingers. I have learned to ignore it, for the most part. The customer is always right, after all.

I looked around my truck to get a feel for how my day would be, and it really didn’t look too bad, considering. The whole truck was full, but the majority of the stuff looked like it was for one place. I grabbed my keys and my delivery book and headed out for the day, but soon stopped at the store to grab a large soda and some donuts. I knew that Canseco’s Auto Body didn’t open until 8:00 am, so I needed to squeeze into the back of the truck and do some residential deliveries first. I worked steadily, and then arrived at the business at exactly 8:00, just like Mr. Canseco wanted. I backed in and began to offload the boxes, placing them right where he liked them to be left. They were a little heavy, but not as bad as some days, and when I was nearly done Mr. Canseco walked over to me and looked over the massive pile of packages that I had stacked neatly against the wall.

Felix Canseco was a small framed, wiry but muscular man, and his arms were covered with tattoos. At first I thought they looked cool, but each day as I studied them I realized that whoever had done them had horrible technique and no feel for the art. Most of them were in a different language, which I guessed was Mexican. Whenever I looked at Mr. Canseco, I was always reminded of a boxer that I remembered from my childhood. On fight nights my dad and I would sit on the couch, he drinking beer, myself coke, and we would munch on chips and pretzels and watching the boxing matches. I recalled the announcer saying “Hector “Macho” Camacho” in a loud voice; these were the only pleasant memories that I had of my dad. I sometimes wished that I had appreciated them more.

“So they are all here, then? You not stealing any from me, are you pink boy?” He said in his thickly accented voice. I shook my head vigorously, as I did every day when he asked me the same questions. I remembered watching that boxer punch a guy so hard in the face that his jaw broke. “They no damaged, either, then? You know you say they not, but I know you would try to hide them if you found one…admit it.” He scowled at me, and I raised my hands and shook my head, replying to him, same as always, “No sir, I would never do that. I would tell you right away, I swear.” I didn’t want Mr. Camacho to punch me in the face.

He took the pad of delivery paper and scrawled his name quickly, then looked up with me and squinted, trying to detect the lie he knew I must be hiding from him. I stood as still and innocent looking as possible, and he finally handed me back my pad and spelled his name for me, so that I could print it for clarification. “C...a...n...s...e...c...o” he said, and I copied each letter, “C...a...m...a...c...h...o”. As he looked over the top of the pad of paper and growled, he said to me in a harsh voice. “You spelled my name wrong again, boy, didn’t you? I know you did, you idiot.”

“No sir, Mr. Ca…nseco.” I caught myself as I almost screwed up his name, but he didn’t seem to catch the hesitation, and then grunted and turned to walk away. I let out a sign of relief, knowing I had survived another day without Mr. Camacho punching me out. I jumped in my truck and took off quickly, just in case he had intended on retrieving a crowbar to beat me with, and soon I was in my routine, and having a surprisingly good day. I knew I would have no problem completing my deliveries and making it back to the warehouse by 5:00 pm, and I would then return to my studio and practice my drawing for the day when I actually had a customer to work on. Of course, it turns out things didn’t work quite so simply, as you will soon see, but I guess that is life. At 1:00 pm sharp I stopped at the fast food franchise near my lunch spot and ordered a super-sized meal with an extra-large coke, and then went to the vacant lot on Harding Road and pulled in. I made a looping counterclockwise U turn and pulled up close to the woods, facing the road, and using the treeline for shade. As I settled in for lunch I had no way of knowing how abruptly my life was about to change.

Hector was pleased with how easy the day had gone so far. Emilio and Franco were both complaining because they wanted to smoke a joint on the ride up, but Hector made sure that that didn’t happen. The GPS unit on the dashboard was an expensive model, surprisingly accurate, so they arrived at the port by 11:30 am. Hector pulled down toward the shipping container as instructed he kept reciting the phrase in his head continuously. As they drove toward the end of the dock, a man stepped out from between two stacks of containers. He was holding an AK 47 assault rifle and stood next to the road waiting for them to approach. Hector pulled the truck to a stop and rolled the window down, taking a deep breath before slowly reciting the phrase.

“Guadalupe is burning, we need something to quench the flames.” He smiled in spite of himself, knowing he had said it perfectly, but then the smile instantly turned to a look of terror as the man leveled the rifle at him and smirked. “You sure you got that right, ese? I am not sure you are the delivery driver I was told to expect. How about you think on that a moment.” The man then pushed down the safety lever on the rifle and brought it up to his shoulder. “You have three seconds.”

Hector turned to look at Emilio and Franco, and all three had the same look of terror. As the man counted down three…two… the trio babbled among themselves, agreeing that Hector had said the correct phrase. At the count of one, Hector turned back to the man and blabbered “That...that’s…that’s my final answer.” He then closed his eyes, silently cursing himself for sounding like a game show contestant while at the same time waiting to hear the momentary thunder of the gunshot before his brain faded to black forever. Instead he heard laughter, from several different directions, and he opened his eyes and looked at the man, trying to comprehend what had occurred. It quickly dawned on him that they had been punked, and the man laughed once again and then grinned. “Its fine, homes, we gotta have our fun. We knew it was you even if you got the stupid phrase wrong; you got the tat on your left wrist that says you are familia, and we have had your pictures all along. El Lupe just likes to have his moments of fun with the new guys, and watches too many movies. He pictures himself a modern day “Scarface”. The man then tilted his head in the direction of the container, and pointed the gun toward it. “Go on down and the guys will help you load up. Just drive back normally, and by 4 o’clock you boys will be rolling in the dough and ho. Good to see Felix’ son is as competent as his old man. Later, homies.”

After backing the truck up to the container, the trio helped to load the heavy cases of alcohol, stacking them carefully and in proper order. The shipment had been originally packed with planned precision, in which the liquor that would be given to the delivery drivers was the last loaded onto the container, so it was the first loaded onto the truck. In this way, when the delivery was made, El Lupe’s cases could be taken off and the remaining cases could be taken to wherever Hector and his partners decided. As they loaded each case Hector took note of the stock. The trio’s portion of 195 cases turned out to be 40 cases each of vodka, tequila, rum, and whiskey, each from four different distilleries. The remaining cases were a various assortment of gin, scotch, liquors, and cordials. Each box that belonged to the trio was marked with a green spray-painted slash across the top of the case, so it was easy to tell them apart. El Lupe’s portion was 100 cases of select tequila, 200 cases of select vodka, and 100 cases of select rum. There were also a case each of whiskey, gin, scotch, wine, and beer. Hector assumed that they must be samples from the distributor who had imported the alcohol, but he didn’t give much thought to it. All he cared about was getting the truck loaded and secured, returning the shipment to El Lupe, and finishing the job. Once the delivery had been made, he thought, then there would be plenty of time to figure out the rest. Hector knew that he had a secure place to store their portion, since his father’s auto shop had an unused storage area that was monitored and alarmed.

It wasn’t until they crossed the county line separating Duval from St Johns County that they began to suspect trouble. As they passed Racetrack Road Hector happened to look in his rear-view mirror and saw a dark colored sedan with heavily tinted windows pull out behind them and follow, albeit at a long distance. He felt his heart begin to race as his mind reviewed each scenario that could be about to occur, every one far worse than the next. He knew that they already had a contingency plan in place in case an event were to happen, and he weighed the option of whether to call the girls or to hold off; he knew he still had ten miles before the bailout point that had been agreed upon, and he would look foolish if he called them and it turned out to be nothing. He was still debating when, about a mile up the road, he saw a marked sheriff’s deputy sitting on the side of the road facing the opposite direction. This made up his mind and he looked over to Emilio and said. “Call Gretchen, tell her we need to stop for a few minutes at that place.”

Emilio looked over at Hector and saw the police car, and then gave him a questioning look. “What’s wrong, homes? It’s just a cop.” Hector kept facing straight ahead and muttered “Yeah there one about a mile behind us too. Call her now.”

Emilio leaned forward and looked out the passenger side mirror and when he saw the dark car following behind his hand shot down and fumbled in his pocket for the cell phone. He finally got hold of it, only to lose it as he lifted it from his pocket, sending it tumbling up in the air. His hands shot out trying to make a catch, and his left hand hit Hector in the eye, which caused him to swerve the truck slightly into the next lane over. There happened to be a car sitting next to them, which they sideswiped, causing it to run into the median and then flip violently behind them, and Hector cried out in rage as he regained control of the truck and watched the carnage unfold in the rear-view side mirror. At the same instance, Emilio’s right hand shot out toward Franco’s face, but Franco deftly avoided the hand by leaning forward, while at the same time reaching out and catching the cellphone in midair. In a fluid move he pressed a few buttons and placed it to his ear, and within a moment said into the mouthpiece “Yo, Gretchen, its Franco, where is that place you were telling us about? We need it.” Franco paused for a second and then said “Harding Road, yeah I know where it is, we will be there in about five minutes. Meet us there and lead us in. Thanks girl, we will party tonight after we’re done. Holla at me when you get there.” Franco pushed a button and the put down the phone, and then pointed in the direction that they were heading. “Four miles on the left, Harding Road, they will be waiting to lead us there.”

Hector nodded nervously and looked in the rear-view, but didn’t see anything behind them. He couldn’t see any flashing lights coming toward them, either, so he pushed the accelerator to the floor, hoping for more speed than the truck was capable of. At the same time he backhanded Emilio, who was trying to stutter out an apology over screwing things up so badly, which effectively shut him up. He said a silent prayer and hoped they would make it to the hiding spot before they were spotted.

Gretchen was sitting in the car, beneath the shade of a tree close to her grandmother’s house off of Harding Road. She was in the passenger seat waiting for a call from Los Tres Amigos, as they called themselves. Leesa was behind the steering wheel, anxious to be on the road again, bored to death. From the back seat Gretchen heard the crisp crack of a beer can opening, and she knew Renee was well on her way to another blackout night. She looked back over her right shoulder and saw that, as usual, Vanessa was sulking next to Renee, bored out of her mind and miserable to be waiting for probably no reason. The guys had promised them each five bottles of whatever liquor that they wanted, but only as long as they waited along the route between their starting point and their destination. They would receive a call as the guys approached, and at each point would move ahead of them, ready to lead them to a selection of hidden locations along the way. The first location happened to be Gretchen’s grandmother’s house, where a large barn was used to park the RV during the winter, while they were home from their travels. She knew that they would be gone, since it was early May; they always left the next to the last week in April. She would just lead them to the barn and let them park the truck there until his problem was fixed. She sat idly twirling her hair, wishing that she were able to have a beer as well, but all Renee’s job was to be a distraction in the event one was needed, and they all knew she worked best a little tipsy. Leesa was the driver, and good at it, so they had no worries about staying well ahead of the guys when they needed to, and Vanessa was just along for the ride, having been the one to locate the safe locations along the route. They had stayed off the interstate for two reasons; first, there was no way to exit except at selected areas, which would be bad if they had problems in between exits, and secondly, because the police presence along the interstate was usually higher than the route through St Augustine along US 1. They would have to pass straight through town, but then again so did several thousands of other trucks, which looked identical to the one they were guarding. Gretchen had the task of communicating between the teams, and she was good at it, using her cellular tablet to keep updated on traffic conditions around the locations, while having her cell phone to relay immediate directions or alert the guys to alternate routes. Overall, for such a nice payoff, an afternoon of driving and sitting wasn’t too much of a hassle.

When the phone rang Gretchen looked down at it and was surprised to see it was Emilio. She hadn’t actually expected the call, but she answered immediately. She listened intently for a moment, and then said “It’s Harding Road, about 5 miles north of St Auggie on the east side of the road. We will wait for you in the parking lot halfway down, you will see the Pontiac there.” She hung up the phone and looked over to Leesa, and said “Let’s roll down to my grandmothers and open the barn, then come back and meet them at the vacant lot right there.” She pointed as they passed by the lot, and she saw that a large pink truck was parked there already, with the driver, dressed in pink, having lunch. She thought, as they drove out of sight, that the guy looked awfully familiar, but she put it out of her mind as they approached grannie’s house. The whole crew had been there before, many times, and so Leesa didn’t have to ask directions, but as they turned in the driveway Gretchen’s jaw dropped open and she muttered “Oh shit! They haven’t left.” She looked at Leesa, who gave her a nervous glance back, and then suddenly her mind sprang into action and she remembered. “Go back to the vacant lot: that was Stanley Greenbud, I think. He was always so stupid, I bet we can figure out a way to convince him to help us.” Leesa nodded and backed the car out of the driveway, and as she accelerated back toward the lot, Gretchen turned in her seat and pointed to Renee. “Girl, you need to flirt like hell and try to get him to let you put the cargo into his truck. I bet he probably has enough room in there for at least some of it, if not all. Once you convince him, keep him busy while Hector and his guys offload the stuff, and then tell him to meet us at 7:00 pm at St. Angelo Street. Do whatever you have to to get him to say yes, understand?”

Renee nodded her blonde head and giggled, then looked down and adjusted her blouse to make her cleavage more exposed. She knew exactly what to do, since she had learned long ago how to put the assets she had been blessed with to work for her. She wasn’t particularly bright, but she was stunningly attractive, and she knew how to wrap a man around her finger and get her way with him. She winked at Gretchen and replied. “No problem, if he is anything liked he used to be, he will be easy to con…but if I can’t keep his attention, you better come out with this and step in while they offload.” She reached into her purse and pulled out an object, and passed it up to Gretchen. From the back seat Vanessa muttered “Oh great, I sure hope that’s clean; Renee, that’s disgusting.” Gretchen laughed and took it, and then nodded her head. “Yeah, no problem Renee, but first you gotta act all surprised that it’s him and bedazzle him like you always used to in school. Shake your boobs and play coy, and if he starts to question anything, I will make an appearance and we will use Plan B.” At that she began laughing manically, and shook the object in her hand.

They reached the parking lot just as Gretchen was dialing the phone to call back Emilio, though she suddenly realizing that it was Franco that had called. At the same time, Leesa whipped the car around and parked close to the truck, which was pulled into the lot in such a way as to be easily accessible to backing a truck up to, but which would also block Hector’s truck from view in all directions except for the direction they had just come from. As they passed the driver’s side of the truck, they saw that it was indeed Stanley, and Leesa pulled up so that the back door of the sedan would open evenly with the door of delivery truck. She left enough space so that it was easy for Renee to get out, and as she opened her door Vanessa muttered “This is so wrong, you guys, Stanley was a nerd, but he was a sweet guy. He doesn’t deserve to get used like this.” They ignored what she had said, of course, and went on with their plans. Gretchen quickly told Emilio, who had answered the phone this time, that the plans had changed and instructed them on what to do. At the same time, Renee stood up and stretched, thrusting her ample breasts forward and lifting her arms to place her hands behind her head, elbows up. “Oh my gawd, Stanley Greenbud, is that you. I haven’t seen you since middle school; get down here and give me a hug, I have missed you big guy.” As she said this she began to hop up and down with excitement, which was her exact intention, since it caused her tits to bounce and jiggle, precariously close to popping out of her top. Stanley’s face went slack as his eyes dropped to her jiggling boobs, and she knew right away she had his undivided attention. Now all that would be required would be a little bit of carefully crafted conversation and enough of a distraction to get the job done.

I had been sitting in my truck, enjoying my lunch in the bright sunshine and surprisingly mild spring afternoon. Normally May in Florida could get blisteringly hot and humid, but it was warm with a slightly cool ocean breeze. This had an added effect of bringing the wildlife out to socialize, and around me I could sense nature at play. I watched as birds flew from tree to tree, landing lightly on the branches and chirping for a few moments before taking off again. It was refreshing to be able to relax for once, because usually my days consisted of running as fast as I could to get done before I was late and had to face the wrath of Pleckerman. I had only been late a few times, and had always called first to let him know, and even so he had chewed me out each time. I had even heard that one driver had been later than 9:00 pm once and had been promptly arrested upon returning to the warehouse. Pleckerman had called the police on the man, the rumor went, and the poor guy had spent 5 years in prison for being a few hours late. I didn’t actually believe it though, since it was Harold who had told me the story, and I knew he was an unreliable guy. A liar and a shyster who would sometimes wait until the other drivers had turned their backs and then throw packages into their trucks so he wouldn’t have to deliver them, he was often called out about his attitude and his backstabbing ways. That Harold was Pleckerman’s son might have had something to do with the fact that he was always done early and had the easiest route to run. I don’t like Harold, but I keep my mouth shut and do my job, because that’s what a good person is supposed to do. Mama always said that the good man works hard for a simple life, and the bad man simply works hard at taking advantage of the good man. I believed it, of course; she was my mom. She had told me about how my father was a bad man, who didn’t work, but instead got busted for smuggling the pot into port one night on a powerboat. I had rarely seen him as a kid, and after his arrest, I had never seen nor heard from him again. My mom told him never to return, but I do remember one night when I was 16, I had heard her screaming at someone at the door to leave and never come back. I always thought that it might have been dad, but she had told me it was a salesman, even though it had been 11:00 pm. I don’t think salesmen are allowed to call on a customer that late. I sometimes wished that I had looked out the window that night to see, just to have a memory of what he looked like; my memories of him have faded to the point that I can’t even remember his face, except for his eyes, which were a deep, striking blue, the same eyes I have. I was reminiscing about things, day dreaming like always, when a green Pontiac pulled into the vacant lot and stopped right up beside me. When I parked here for lunch, I always pulled my truck in and did a counterclockwise turn, which set me against the trees so that the truck was shaded. I had never seen anyone else in the lot, so I was about to start the engine to leave, thinking that the owner was about to yell at me. But instead I saw the back door of the car open and out stepped a woman with shocking blonde hair, dressed in a mini skirt and a low cut blouse. At first I thought maybe she just needed directions and was going to ask me, but as she opened her mouth I suddenly had a flashback from the past. I recalled a day in elementary school, when a girl named Renee had come up to me. I had never met her before, much less talked to her, and yet she walked right up to me and smiled, looking me in the eye and saying “Hello, I’m Renee…want to be my boyfriend?” Renee at that time had been a cute, slightly pudgy girl, like many 8 year olds are, and her teeth had been a little crooked, with a few missing and others overly large in her small mouth. We had walked around the playground hand in hand, and she had kissed me once behind a bush next to the swing set. I had given her my last strawberry lollipop, a great honor in my book, and love had blossomed; well, at least until the next day, when I got to school and saw her holding hands with Timmy Bean. She looked over to me, smiled slightly, and later in the day had come to me and explained that what we had had been great, but it was time to move on. I remember thinking that time must move faster for her than for anyone else, and then wondering if I was really so disgusting that no one could even stand me for more than a day.

Time had changed her for the better, and now she was drop dead gorgeous, with startling green eyes, straight white teeth, and a body that could grace the cover of any magazine. What really caught my gaze, though, were her incredible breasts; they were perky and overflowing from her top, and I don’t think that I even heard what she said at first. I was dumbfounded, staring slack-faced at those incredible boobs, and when she started jumping up and down, I felt something down below begin to stir, a feeling I hadn’t known in many years. She reached her arms up and waved her hands, drawing me toward her like she was magic, and I don’t even recall getting out of the truck, or willfully moving; it was as if my body were guided by an invisible force, while my mind was shocked into mass overload. I realized my ears were ringing, and my face felt really hot and sweaty. She practically ran over and jumped into my arms, and kissed me on the cheek. This was enough to snap me out of my daze, because I could no longer see her tits, bouncing happily and incredibly large. Nope, now I could now feel them, pressing against my chest, and if that wasn’t bad enough, I could feel her stomach pressing up against my crotch, which immediately made my shorts start to feel very tight. I tried to resist, but it wasn’t working; I knew I was getting hard, and I knew that she could feel it too. She looked up at me and smiled, a vicious, naughty little smile, and in that moment I finally regained my hearing, and her words registered. “…so when we saw you I just had to stop and say hello…I missed you so much after you changed schools, and I…well I hate to admit it, but I was heartbroken when you were gone. I hadn’t realized how much I wanted to be with you back then, and once you left I realized the mistake I had made…oh, Stanley, you seem to have missed me too….quite a lot. Wow!” She moved slightly back and looked down, and I heard a sharp intake of air whistle between her lips. “Stanley, that is quite impressive…now I really wish you had stayed in school with us…” She paused and then pushed forward and rubbed her belly against me, and I clinched my eyes, trying to think of baseball and tattoo’s and anything else that would keep me from exploding prematurely, the curse which had created my life of celibacy so long ago. She lifted herself up on her tippy toes and pressed her lips to my ear, and I felt her breath against my neck as she spoke. “Stanley…I have a little problem. I was wondering if you could help me out, pretty please.” She kissed my ear, and I nodded my head and stammered. “Uhh...yeah...uh of course…err hi Renee, you really…ummm…surprised me. What do you need?”

As I said it she released my neck and stepped back, leaning forward slightly and pressing her hands against my chest, while leaning over and pressing her breasts together. She bit down lightly on her lip, and then released it and licked it slowly with her tongue, oh so sensuously slowly. She looked up as if she was trying to find a way to phrase her question, but I was so mesmerized by her face and the entire sequence of events that I didn’t actually hear the sound in the background. She was the only thing in the world at that moment, and time slowed down as her lips parted and she closed her eyes and lifted herself on her toes again, letting her lips touch mine for a split second, teasing me, and then moving away just as quickly.

“Stanley, I saw that you had this great big truck, and I thought maybe you could do me a huge favor. I have some friends who have to pick up my furniture from my apartment and move it over to Gretchen’s place; we are roommates now.” She smiled and looked back over her shoulder, and it was then I realized that we weren’t alone, and that not only was Gretchen watching and waving at me, but so also were Leesa and another women, who was in the back seat in the shadows. For a moment I wondered if it might be Vanessa, but then I felt a small hand touch my cheek and pull my view back to her face. “The only problem is that they have some boxes on their truck, so my stuff won’t fit, and they can’t make it all the way to drop it off point and still make it in time to help me. So….” She paused again, once more biting her lip and looking back over her shoulder. At that moment I realized there was another vehicle, about the same size as mine, backing up against my truck. I turned to look at it, suddenly very concerned about the situation, but Renee whispered in my ear again and I suddenly felt a calming warmth spread over me. “Stanley…look, I would never ever have asked if I had any other way, but I thought maybe you would have enough room to let them put their stuff on your truck for a couple of hours, and then you could meet us at Gretchen’s and we would take the boxes back. It wouldn’t even be that bad, it’s just a few; you probably wouldn’t even notice them…and we are having a house warming party, so you could come and check out my bedroom! “ She giggled as she said this, and then put her finger against my chin and began to run if down my chest and across my sagging belly, before slipping it down across my shorts and lightly tracing the outline of my bulge. Again I felt a fire building down below, and I squeezed my eyes together to try and fight the impending disaster from occurring. I felt her hand press against my dick, and she grasped it in her hand and let out a gasp of surprise. “Stanley, I never would have imagined you having something as impressive as this. You know…if you were to let us put the stuff on your truck, I would see you again tonight and maybe we could…well, you know…” Again she leaned forward and lifted her lips to my ear, and whispered. “…rekindle what we had so long ago. I would love to see where this…” She squeeze me and I gasped, so close to unintentionally lightening my pink shorts by a couple of shades, but I fought back the urge. “…ends up. What do you say, Stanley? Can we do this?” She released my dick and I took a deep breath and nodded. My head was swimming and I wasn’t sure what was going on, but at that moment I didn’t care. I had been able to control myself, and now I felt a confidence I had never known welling up inside me. I was now a man, and a man with wants, and needs, and damn whatever mother had said, I needed to explore the secret sins of sex and drugs and rock and roll. I replied in a voice that was wavering, threatening to crack at any moment.

“Yeah, you can do that; just tell me where to meet you, and I will stop by to drop the boxes off, then take my truck back to the warehouse and meet you at the party after.” I sighed; old man Pleckerman would have my head if he found out, but I didn't care. The experience that I had just had, the energy and connection that I had felt between Renee and myself, had overpowered my normal sensibility. I didn’t even notice Renee wave her hand, but heard in the background the rear door of a truck slide up, and then a second door slide up. I didn’t care. I couldn’t think. All that existed in that moment were Renee’s hands laying on my shoulder, and her head against my chest. She was speaking quietly, but I don’t really know what she said. I was in a deep sexual shock, a state of dreamlike bliss. “This must be what love feels like.” I thought to myself as I blocked out everything but the feeling of her body against mine, and the thoughts of a future I never expected to happen, especially with someone as incredibly beautiful as Renee. I had never even had feelings or interest in anyone but Renee…except of course for Vanessa, who didn’t even know I existed. But here, now, was Renee, in the flesh, back in my arms. I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her, and she sighed happily, content with where she was. I hardly even noticed the sound of movement in the trucks behind me, but after a little while I lifted my head and had my first real clear thought since everything had happened so suddenly.

“Why is it taking so long if it’s only a couple of boxes?’ I thought to myself, and immediately I let go of Renee and turned my head to the side to look at what was happening around me. Renee immediately went stiff, and she reached up with her small hand and placed it on my chin. She tried to pull my face back to look into hers, but I refused. I started to turn to walk over, and heard Renee speak. “Stanley, what’s wrong baby? Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry, tell me what it is and I will fix it. I can’t lose you again, Stanley…it’s been so long and I thought I would never see you again. Stanley…please.” She sounded pitiful and in pain, and my attention was drawn back to her. I didn’t see her other hand behind her back, her fingers wiggling slightly.

“There’s nothing wrong, Renee, I was just wondering why they are taking so long for a couple of boxes. I don’t even know who is in my truck, and if they took any of the packages that I still have on there, I could get fired. I need to make sure they aren’t stealing anything.” As I said this I started to walk toward the back of the trucks, where I could see them parked bumper to bumper. I hadn’t noticed but Gretchen, at some point, had gotten out of the car. She was walking away from the truck, rounding the front of the car carrying a box. She took it to the trunk of the Pontiac and set it down, and then as she walked back around the car she saw me and stuck her head into the front passenger side window. At the same time Leesa opened her door and climbed out of the car. She still looked the same as she always had; dark, caramel colored skin, long, black, curly hair, and while she was still heavyset, she no longer had any baby fat; she was all muscle, and almost as big as I was. She stepped in front of me and smiled, but her smile reminded me of a shark’s; it wasn’t a happy smile, but more like the grin of a predator. I felt Renee grab my hand, and then heard Gretchen talk as she walked around the front of the car and came toward the three of us. When she passed Leesa she hit her on the butt with a long black object, and Leesa stepped back and turned, walking toward the junction of the two trucks. I looked at Gretchen’s face, and then looked at Renee, and she smiled and looked back at Gretchen. As she spoke I suddenly felt my face flush again, because I realized what it was that Gretchen was holding.

“Gretchen, Stanley is going to come to the party tonight. It’s been so long since we have seen him, I thought maybe we could have a special night.” She looked back at me and smiled, a coy and innocent looking smile, and then she rose up and kissed me on the neck. I felt her lips lift and she whispered in my ear “Gretchen and I are... very close, but I don’t mind sharing you with her our first time… we can have a great time, don’t you think.” Her breath was hot as it hissed in my ear, and I felt myself regain the hardness that had begun to subside. At the same time Renee turned to face Gretchen and reached down, cupping my cock in her tiny hand and giggling. “Look here, Gretchen, I think he has more than enough for both of us, and some to spare. Maybe we can put on a little show for him before we get to business; let him see our little toy.” Gretchen laughed out loud, the same sinister cackle that she had always had, the one that sounded like an evil purr of pleasure from Jezebel herself. She lifted the object and shook it at me; it swept up and down, waving wildly as she shook her fist.

“You know what this is Stanley?” she asked, and I nodded my head. I could tell what it was, even though I had never seen one. I had certainly never known that they made them like the one she had in her hand. “This is our play toy; we sometimes get bored and you can obviously see that Renee is a bad girl sometimes, so when I have to I punish her with it.” She laughed again, then stepped forward and held out both hands, one taking Renee’s hand and the other pushing the black leather handle of the flog against my stomach. As I grabbed it I flicked my wrist and watched as the leather straps rose in the air and separated, then settled and nestled together as they fell back into place. I realized that I had seen this kind of whip once before, in a movie that Rich had brought over one night. It had starred two women, one in black leather and a mask, and the other in nothing but a studded dog collar, who had been tied across a dresser and spanked until her cheeks were red and welted. I hadn’t understood the appeal at the time, but now I completely understood why it was such a turn on. For the first time I noticed that Renee had a collar around her neck, a thin silver band of metal that looked much like a necklace. Only after seeing the sex toy had I realized what the jewelry that she wore truly was, and as I focused on the silver band I could see the laser engraving that said “Slave. Owned by Gretchen.” in elaborate lettering.

“Stanley, I know it must be strange after not having seen us in so long, but we have never forgotten you; Renee has always had feelings for you, and we have talked about you many times. It has actually been a fantasy we have shared, alone at night sometimes.” An evil grin spread across her features, and yet her eyes still looked so innocent that it seemed like a contrasting portrait painted by a master artist. “Stanley…” she moaned, low and slow, begging…”…Stanley, please, will you spank us both…it’s our dream come true.” She moaned again and turned to face my truck, placing both hands against it. I hadn’t even realized that I had taken the tool of punishment from her and was holding it firmly; it seemed like it had magically appeared in my hand. At the same time Renee stepped between us, and she leaned against the truck, placing both hands on its surface and pushing her ass out, as if getting searched by the police. They both looked over at me, two criminals waiting to be punished for their misdeeds; I was judge, jury, and executioner. Renee closed her eyes and moaned, and set her head against the side of the truck, whispering seductively. “Yes, we’ve been bad, bad girls. We need to be spanked with your huge cock, officer. Please punish us for our sins…please…I’m begging you.” Gretchen wiggled her ass, which was still large, like when she was young, and not nearly as incredible as Renee’s, but it didn’t matter. I stepped behind them, and pressed myself against Renee, at the same time moving the flog into my right hand and whipping it forward against Gretchen’s rear. She jumped and groaned, obviously pleased with the sensation. I felt Renee grind hard against me, and this time I felt in total control, with no chance of exploding; I was finally in command, and I was enjoying it. Maybe mom had been wrong all along.

I slapped Gretchen again harder, and each time she jumped, squealed, and giggled. She seemed to be enjoying herself, and Renee did as well. She had placed her hands flat against the side of the truck, and the top of her head was also against it. She pressed back against my groin, her ass grinding back and forth, up and down. She moaned and groaned, murmurs of pleasure escaping her lips. She finally looked back over her shoulder, her eyes filled with a hunger and lust that I had never seen before, even in the porn videos that Rich brought over occasionally to show me. She smiled and closed her eyes, and spoke quietly as she thrust back against me.

“Please, Master, I’ve been a bad little slave girl…I need to be punished for being so naughty. Master, will you please spank your slave…she needs to show how sorry she is.” Another groan escaped her lips and she pressed her face against the truck. I stepped back, turned to the side, and brought the leather straps down across her firm ass. Her dress had ridden up and her cheeks were exposed, and I slapped them over and over with the whip, until the turned bright red. I was shocked at how much it turned her on, and I could actually see her juices flowing down the inside of her thigh as she began to shake and moan loudly. I hadn’t expected to see anything like this in my lifetime, and from the looks of it Renee was in the grip of a powerful orgasm, just like the girls in the porno film had been. I turned the handle of the flog and slipped it between her legs, and pressed up against her slippery center. She groaned loudly and began to rock back and forth, riding the length of the smooth handle as her need became more urgent. Gretchen had a look that resembled confusion on her face, but when she saw me glance at her she grinned and nodded, enjoying the spectacle of her friend cumming in front of her. As she reached her peak Leesa stepped forward and, upon seeing what was occurring, she shook her head in disgust and muttered something under her breath. I saw also that there was a man, thin, with dark hair and skin, and some kind of tattoo on his left wrist, looking in amusement and what I thought might be jealousy. Gretchen turned and looked at them, and then said. “We are done, come on Renee, get your ass in the car; we need to go.” She turned and walked around the car, climbing in and waiting as Leesa started it and revved the engine. The sound of doors being closed broke the moment and Renee lifted her head, her face flushed and satisfied. Her legs shook a little and she held my arm as her other hand pulled her skirt down. She took a deep breath and mouthed the word “Wow”, and then leaned up and gave me a kiss on the lips. I could taste alcohol on her breath, and then she pulled the whip from my hand as she whispered to me. “1565 St. Angelo Street, across the road and a little past the church. We will be there at 7:00, waiting for you. I can’t wait to see you later, Stanley; I think we have so much more to explore, after being apart so long. I am eager to feel you baby.” She reached her hand down and grabbed me again, then grinned and turned away, running to the Pontiac and hopping back in. The other truck looped around the parking lot and pulled into the road without slowing down, and the girls followed. The Pontiac’s huge engine revved loudly and Leesa peeled out, spinning a donut as dirt and dust suddenly flew into my face, and I coughed and tried to clear my eyes. When I could finally see again, they were gone; it was as if nothing had ever happened, and yet it seemed so real. I heard a single chirp from the tree above, and I looked up. A mockingbird began to make a laughing sound, and I realized I had been there much longer than I was supposed to have been. I turned, climbed up into the truck, and fastened by seat belt. When I did I looked down and shook my head in surprise.

My pink shorts were soaked, from what I didn’t exactly know, and covered in dirt. I shook my head, and realized that I had fallen asleep and had a dream. It was a strange, vivid, and very realistic dream, but a dream none the less. I started my truck and pulled forward, surprised at how much the engine strained even though the truck was nearly empty, and I drove to my next stop. While I got out and walked around the back of the truck, I tried to wipe off the stains and dry my shorts some; it was not very professional looking to have a massive wet spot on the front of pink shorts. I must have spilled my soda on myself, I thought. I shook my head at how realistic the dream had been, and then I lifted the handle on the rear door and opened it up. I was shocked to see the cartons, stacked to the ceiling of the truck, taking up all but the last four feet of space. My deliveries were still sitting in the empty area, but the rest of the truck was packed full of boxes. I saw that they were marked with the names of several popular brands of alcohol, and were secured with shipping straps. I stood for a moment with my jaw open, and realized that it hadn’t been a dream, after all. It then dawned on me that I had placed myself in a precarious situation. I was probably going to be in a lot of trouble if anyone found out that my truck had been filled with hundreds of boxes of liquor.

“Okay, I did my job, and I get first pick of the cases for having to do that.” Renee complained, though the other girls started to argue the point. “That was so disgusting; he is so fat and he stank, and tasted like a cheeseburger and fries. I should get hazard pay for having to occupy that dorks attention.” She shuddered and reached into the cooler, pulling out a cold beer and popping the top. She was ready to get a good beer buzz going so that she could forget what had just occurred.

Gretchen, on the other hand, turned around in her seat and placed her arms on the headrest to talk to Renee. She had a look of contempt on her face, and her scowl would have scared most people, with the exception of her crew. They had seen it too many times before and knew that it was mostly for show, although Gretchen could be downright vicious if she needed to be. She shook her head and began to speak in a high-pitched, infuriated voice. “Bullshit, Renee, you loved that, we could all tell. What the fuck happened back there? Do you really like that geek or something? You actually came, and I know you did, so don’t lie; I have seen you cum enough times before to know your fake from your real. You got seriously turned on by him. What did he do to get you so worked up, anyway?” She raised her eyebrows quizzically, and waited for a reply but all Renee did was look down at the seat and reach between her legs to straighten her thong out, since it was pinching her. Gretchen spoke again, more forcefully. “Dammit, Renee, why the hell did that happen? You were only supposed to flirt with him and act interested, not let him nearly fuck you with a whip handle; I am the only one who can do that.” She paused for a second, and then added. “…oh, and Franco saw you, and he looked really pissed. You better fuck his brains out next time he wants or he will be cutting off your supply, you stupid whore.” She waved her hand in frustration and turned around, cursing silently.

Renee lifted her head and took a big gulp of ice cold beer, and then pulled out another one and handed it over the seat to Gretchen, who took it, opened it, and nearly downed the whole can in one swallow. Renee was trying to think of what to say; in fact, she hadn’t meant to do anything more than flirt a little bit and, if the worst case scenario happened, maybe rub her tits against him, or call Gretchen in with the toy to distract him. Maybe she was drunker than she thought; yes, that must be it. “I don’t know why I did that. I mean, really, he smelled so bad, and he was fat and sweaty. And that hair…gawd, I have hated that hair since day one.” She paused for a moment, then continued. “I must be drunk, but there is no way I am that drunk. It’s just…” She stopped for a second and remembered how he had felt to her, and she started to squirm a little as the warmth spread between her thighs.

“It’s just what, slut?” Gretchen said. Vanessa shifted in her seat and looked out the window; she was an important member of the group, but she hated it when they took advantage of people who were as simple and kind as Stanley had been. And when Renee had started her antics, she had been shocked and felt slightly sick to her stomach, though she didn’t understand why; she had seen Renee do similar stuff in the past and it hadn’t phased her. It must simply have been that Stanley was like the sweet, chunky, loveable best friend to everyone, and even though he was slow and didn’t have a bit of common sense, he was still too nice to have been used so rudely. She thought about it for a second, and then her face flushed as she realized that Stanley had probably had the time of his life back in that parking lot, and probably didn’t feel used at all. Vanessa sighed and looked out at the wooded treeline as they flashed past, ready to be done with all the stupid wannabe gangster crap that Gretchen had dragged them in to. She just wanted to get home to her daughter, and relax for a while, since it was her only night off. She knew that wouldn’t happen, though, because they had to throw the party so that Stanley would come back with the boxes. Then, she knew, once they had gotten their stuff back, Franco and Emilio would probably beat up Stanley, after which they would take off with Gretchen and Renee, hoping to have their own private party. Her thoughts were interrupted when Renee abruptly blurted out “I didn’t plan that, I was just going to give him a hug, but when I felt him press against me I at first thought it was his stomach. Then I realized it was his...you know…and I don’t know what came over me. That guy is hung, and he probably has never even been laid. I guess I just got turned on at the thought of what it would be like…you know, to be a dirty little slut for him, take his innocence, and so I let it go too far.” She paused and looked up at Gretchen with sadness and regret in her eyes. She saw a pained expression on her pursed lips, and her face was flushed from the jealousy that Renee knew she was feeling. “I’m sorry, Gretchen, but damn, that was pretty hot…made me so horny I couldn’t help myself, Mistress.”

Gretchen’s cell phone began to ring and she answered it immediately, then paused in silence as she listened to the caller. She laughed and looked back over her shoulder at Renee, and then answered. “Yeah, I know, me too. I don’t know what the fuck that was about, but she got the job done, anyhow. What you want us to do now?” She paused again as the caller spoke, then she nodded and replied. “Okay, yeah we can do that. If we see any cops we will get their attention; I think Renee owes us for the little scene she caused at the trucks, so we will stay ahead of you and I will make her flash her boobs at any police we might come across.” She paused again, and in the background the caller could be heard yelling loudly. “Hey, Franco, chill out, man. She did what she had to do to get his attention; it’s not like you own her ass or anything. You haven’t even slept with her, so if you want to have any chance, you better cool down. She’s mine, anyhow, asshole, so if you think you have a reason to be pissed at her, you better stand in line behind me.” Again she paused, listening to Franco on the other line, and then she laughed mockingly at him. “Boy, you have nothing that she hasn’t had a dozen times, and probably in greater portions. You should just drop it, ese, because she isn’t into you. Now chill out and we will call you if we run across any cops. Once you guys are at the body shop, we will head back out and tail Stanley until 5, then we will get ready for the party. Once he gets there, we will keep him busy again while you offload the stuff, and you are good to go. Now you better get your end of the deal straight, because we are going to rock tonight.” She paused again for a second before adding “Oh yeah, motherfuckers, you didn't tell us you had that much alcohol; I think we deserve a few more cases you cheap fucker. “ She looked down at and then hung up the phone, and peered over her shoulder at Renee. “Told you he would be pissed; that guy has wanted to get in your pants for a long time. You should give him a pity fuck, just cuz.” She then looked over at Leesa, and continued. “Okay, here’s the plan. We will lead a mile or so ahead, watching for the police. If we see one, Renee and Vanessa get to flash them and get their attention while I call to warn the guys. Easy enough plan, right…” She waited for a reply from the back, and saw that Renee was nodding at her words, even if she was glassy eyed and staring out the window. She heard nothing more so she continued. “...and Vanessa, cut the shit, your too uptight, and getting laid every now and again might help you out a lot.”

Vanessa had been staring out the window ever since they had left the vacant lot, wondering why she bothered hanging out with the group at all anymore. She didn’t agree with the direction that they had gone, where life was a party all the time, and the friendship trumped all other connection to people. She didn’t mind it sometimes, because life could get pretty boring, but having a five year old daughter to take care of hampered much of her social life. She was mainly part of the “Ferocious Four” because they had made connections throughout town as a crew that could provide good service for a reasonable price, and she needed money since her Aunt Ginny was on disability and couldn’t work. She had lived with Ginny for a long time, but then Ginny had been injured at work. It was so serious that she would never be able to work again, so Vanessa had gone from being a single mother to a provider for three. Luckily her Aunt Ginny was able to watch her daughter Kaitlyn while Vanessa was at work, which was most of the time. Vanessa had three jobs; she was part of the protection crew with her three friends, offering services much like they were doing at the time, as well as blackmail and extortion for clients. If a politician wanted to get an edge over a competitor, the crew would set up him or her in an awkward sexual situation, or concoct a story that was believable and confirmable. They had mastered the art of the reliable support crew for various criminal enterprise, and had a solid reputation that helped bring in steady business.

In addition to her day job, she also worked three evenings a week at a gym that catered to rich clientele, and which gave her…and by association her crew…a place to stay fit and in proper shape to continue to practice their art. Only Gretchen would have been considered overweight, and even then it was just slightly, but she was the brains of the operation, in many ways, and it was left to Vanessa and Renee to stay in good shape and remain looking desirable. Leesa was probably the hardest worker of the bunch, and she used the facility constantly. She was the muscle of the group, and could handle most any situation just because of her size. At six feet tall and 200 pounds, she was as large as any man, and more muscular than most. She used this to her advantage when strong arm tactics were needed. The gym had also turned into a great money maker, since many of the clients were married, but would occasionally use the tanning beds or the private room in back for sexual improprieties. Gretchen had realized that it could be profitable to place video cameras in some of the rooms. They would record the customers for long periods of time, and when they had enough proof, Gretchen and Leesa would pay them a visit and threaten to reveal their indiscretion unless they paid for their silence. The plan worked well, because the rooms had been designed to be generic looking, and the cameras had been angled so that the place was unrecognizable. By doing this they were able to, for the most part, avoid any of the victims from figuring out where the tapes were made. They had had a few that had figured it out, and in those cases they would call Hector or the Maestro to deal with the person. Usually the victim would shut up and move on with their life, or else they would just disappear, never to be seen again. Things usually went well in the gym, and the owner was clueless to the things that happened behind the scenes.

Vanessa also worked as a waitress at a little dive called Tokes Bar and Grill, spending a couple of nights a week taking orders and listening to the drunk guys lame pick up attempts. She had perfected the skill in flirting and seeming available, while at the end of the night racking up great tips, and avoiding any obligations. It actually worked well since she would share some of the tip money with the owner, an old hippie everyone called Squid. When she would put in a drink order, she would give him a code that would tell him to make the drink stronger than normal, so that by the time the guys were on their third or fourth drink they weren’t aware that they were consuming so much alcohol. As the customer would get drunker, Vanessa would adjust her top so that her tits were about to pop out, and then she would flirt more and more intensely. By the end of the night, after she had taken most of the guy’s money, she would sneak out the backdoor of the bar, or through the hidden hallway of the old house, which had been converted into a café. Sometimes the guys would pass out before she left, which made it easier for her to escape, but a few times she had had to stay until late at night to avoid the guys who would stand around waiting for her to leave. She had even made an elaborate costume that she would put on, making her look like Squid. In the dim light between the back alleyway and her car, the mask and clothing made her look like the owner, and enabled her getaway. For the most part she enjoyed working there, but she was seeing that fewer and fewer people came in, and that the bar was in decline. She knew if it continued, it would only be a matter of time until they were forced to close down. She would lose her most lucrative, and solely her own, source of money. If that happened, she would just have to find another gig and try to make it work there. For the time being, though, she was stuck with the crew, and the jobs that they got, to make ends meet. In reply to Gretchen's words she just looked at the back of her head and kicked lightly on the back of the seat, muttering “Whatever. I know what to do.” before turning back to look out the window at the bright blue Florida sky, and trying to forget the painful memories of the past that still haunted her.

Hector’s voice was low and menacing; he had learned from his father the methods that were necessary to be an effective and fierce leader, and could get the point across without having to shout. He was currently addressing the other two guys in his crew, and he was pissed. They had had a chance to move up in the gang, to garner the trust of a much more powerful ally, and Emilio had screwed it up with his stupidity. Franco was fuming mad, and ignored Hector’s tone, knowing he wasn’t at fault for the screw-up. He also understood that they were in a precarious situation now, one in which they would be lucky to maintain their current status. The risk that they would all disappear forever was also possible, with exception of Hector, who had his father’s protection from all but the most serious of screw-ups. Regardless, all of the planning and hard work had been ruined due to one idiot’s inability to hold on to a cell phone. As the truck drove south toward the auto shop, Hector was watching behind him for any sign of law enforcement, so that they could call the girls back to deal with it. He was also watching Leesa’s car, so that he wouldn’t get too close or fall too far behind. Even so, he was focused solely on Emilio, who had his head down, his chin tucked between folded arms, knowing how much shit he was in, and what he had cost the group. He knew no amount of apologizing would make a difference, so he kept quiet and waited for them to arrive at the safety of the garage. He would take full responsibility, and hopefully wouldn’t end up in a shallow grave, but would be allowed another chance in the future to climb the ladder of leadership in the gang. For the time being, though, he simply slumped down and took his tongue-lashing like a man.

“…stupidest shit I have ever seen, ese. We had a simple job and you couldn’t even keep from screwing it up for us. Now, you know who is going to have to explain this all to Lupe? I am, you dick. I am the one who will get my ass kicked by his guys, or maybe even shot. We need to fix this, you understand. Tonight when we meet that idiot you will bust your ass…and you will give 15% of your haul to Franco and I for dealing with this bullshit.” Hector slammed his hands down on the steering wheel, his face contorted in rage and aggravation. He knew that they would probably turn out fine, since they hadn’t seen any evidence of having been spotted by the cops, and they were almost to the safety of the garage. Once there they would quickly fix the slight damage on the truck. There was only a large dent near the driver’s side back tire, and a deep scratch; the driver of the other vehicle, however, had probably not been so lucky. The memory of the crash, and the itch of his swollen eye, angered Hector even more, and he lifted his hand and slammed it down on the steering wheel several more times. He finally calmed down and checked the rear-view again, still seeing nothing of concern behind him. He had already called his father and told him that the shit had turned upside down, and that they were coming in hot and needing concealment. Even so, he knew he was in trouble when his father had replied with a simple “yes”. All he could do was roll with it and fix it at the party tonight, which was now ruined for them, for the most part. Once they got the shipment back, they would have to leave the party and drive another hour south to Daytona, drop the load, and return with the truck to St Augustine. They would be lucky to make it back by 10 pm, and by that time the party would probably be winding down. It was a Wednesday, so most everyone was probably going home early, but if Renee and Vanessa were at the party, they might keep it hopping for long enough for the guys to score some drunk pussy. Hector looked over at the other two, and then back at the road ahead of them. They were coming into town, passing the airport, and the most dangerous place for them, the sheriff’s department. If they were going to get pulled over, it would be around here. As they approached the intersection where the trouble would occur, Hector spotted a police car coming in the opposite direction. His heart began to beat heavily, because the cop would have a clear view of the damage from the accident, and if he saw it, they were burned. As the police car drew closer to the girl’s car, he saw Renee’s blonde head pop out the window, and she began waving at the police, and then lifted her shirt, letting her heavy tits fall free and give anyone around a good show. The move, of course, caught the cops attention, and after a quick U-turn and a flash of red and blue, the cop was pulled up behind the girls car and getting out to speak with them. Hector calmly moved to the left lane, like a good driver should when approaching a public servant in action, and he gazed over and saw the cop leaning over, talking to Renee. She was giggling and shaking her head, and the cop had the biggest, dumbest grin on his face. He could already imagine what she was saying to the policeman; “Oh officer, I am so sorry, I was just over-excited and wanted to feel the breeze through my hair, and my shirt popped up…I am so embarrassed, I hope no one else saw it.” He grinned, thinking of the move as a classic example of Renee’s repertoire, and then a flash of memory made him laugh out loud. Both Emilio and Franco looked over at him, wondering how he could be laughing and smiling, considering the situation that they were in. He looked back at them, and laughed louder, and then louder still, until he sounded almost hysterical. When he finally caught his breath, he shook his head and said “Man, I cannot believe Renee’s slutty ass. Did you see her letting the fat kid whip her with the flog; she was hot, man, she was horny. Crazy puta…” He shook his head and laughed again, and then gazed over at Franco and said. “Too bad you can’t make her that hot, ehh Franco? You don’t have it in you I guess. She’s way outta your league anyway, homes. You would be better off with a skank like Roxy; she would lay you, and then you wouldn’t be a virgin anymore, fool.” He grinned and turned his head to check the rear-view mirror again. He heard Franco cuss at him and call him a liar, but Hector knew the truth. Franco acted like an OG, but he had never even been blown, much less laid; Franco had gotten drunk one night and blubbered out his failings with women, and how much he wanted to lose the stigma of being one of the unlaid, like Emilio. Everyone knew Emilio was a virgin, because he was too stupid and goofy to have ever gotten anywhere, and he couldn’t even talk to a girl without screwing up the conversation. Franco, though, had the looks and the attitude, and Hector was surprised that he had never done it before, even with a hooker. He had said as much, and Franco had replied with some lame excuse like “I will never pay for it, bro.” Hector guessed that there were two reasons why he was a virgin; first, he wanted to be in love, and second, he was in love with Renee, who would fuck pretty much anyone except for him. Hector laughed again as they approached the garage, but his smile quickly faded as he saw his father standing outside, arms crossed. Hector sighed in frustration, and though he would never admit it, he knew he had no room to be making fun of his friends; he had never gotten past sucking on titties and fingering a girl, and that had been his little brother’s nasty babysitter. Hector contemplated the situation for a moment and came to a realization; that if they couldn’t resolve the situation quickly, they might all end up dying virgins.

The girls were in a bit of a dilemma. They were supposed to immediately return to find Stanley and follow him around for the rest of the day, so that they could keep eyes on him. If Stanley decided not to take the cargo to the party to drop it off, they were to call Hector and let him know right away, so that the situation could be fixed. Hector was worried about the cargo, which was obviously an important delivery. The four knew that Hector's family had some kind of cartel ties to Mexico, though no one had ever turned up headless in St Augustine, so they assumed that the Canseco family were only a holding point for other ventures. Because of this, the girls had no problem working for Hector on occasion. In fact, most of the work that they did consisted of a total of three customers; Hector, a man they only knew as Maestro, and the leader of a biker gang who called himself Shaitan. Because they had known Hector since middle school, the girls didn't worry about dealing with him; if anything, they were probably had a far more nefarious reputation than his group would ever have, barring some major play on their part. While Hector and his crew were overly flirty and pushed their luck, they were for the most part ignored. The girls had known them all for too long and were too street smart to fall for any of that group. The “FF's”, as most people knew them, had never met The Maestro in person, but his crew seemed ready to get crazy at a moment’s notice. They were all black, old school gangsta style, so they guessed that the Maestro was as well. They had run a few operations, which had gone smoothly, and all of the Maestro's men had behaved in a surprisingly professional way. The girls were used to being hit on and pandered by their clientele, in some cases so severely that they would no longer work some jobs. It wasn't that they had anything against partying and having a good time, but when they were working everything was focused on business, not social time. The Maestro apparently had his men focused on their true goal, working a business, and to that point the girls would always take any job that he offered. The bike club, on the other hand, was a hit or miss situation. Gretchen had refused to work for anyone but Shaitan himself, due to the amount of crap that they had had to endure when working with his underlings. The bikers were known as “The Avenged”, and rumor was they dealt up and down the coast in guns, drugs, and select types of machinery. Shaitan would occasionally have them run cover for his bikes, doing the same thing that they had done earlier for Hector. Other times, though, he would have them dress up and infiltrate a rival group's bar, acting like prostitutes, in order to lure the target outside, where the gang would take over. The girls hated those jobs, due to the danger factor involved, but they did make good money taking the occasional pick up when the location wasn't a club headquarters.

Their present job, on the other hand, was becoming a chore, not because of the target, but because of the timing. There really had been a big party planned that evening at Gretchen's house, and all four of them knew that by the time they were done tailing Stanley and making sure he ended up at the drop off, it would be late. Since it was a weekday, most people would be out early and home early, and if the girls weren't there then the party would die quickly. They also knew that they needed at least a couple of hours to get ready; the job was supposed to have lasted only until 3 or 4, not until 7, so they were crunched for time. Gretchen had made the suggestion that she drop off the other three and follow by herself, and that way she would be the only one not ready for the party when the time came, but the others shot down the idea. The group worked as a whole, and never alone; not only for safety's sake, but also because they were equals, and never took advantage of another member’s situation. That was the code that they had agreed to so many years earlier, and that was the only reason that they still worked together so well and successfully.

They located Stanley's truck on the north end of town, looping around in big circles through the neighborhoods at the western edge of the city limits. Gretchen's house was downtown in the historic area, which was only a few miles away, and it was obvious that Stanley was working his way back in the direction of the drop off point. At some point Renee fell asleep in the back seat, snoring a little in her drunken stupor, and Vanessa yawned and put her head against the window, banging it lightly on the glass to pass the time. Leesa had the car off, and the windows were rolled down, so it was a good thing that the weather was agreeable; if the heat had been normal on that day, it would have been stifling, and they would have had to leave the car running, a/c on, risking the chance of an overheated engine. Vanessa was about to drift off to sleep when a thought occurred to her.

“Damn, why are we doing this? It isn't like he is difficult to find.” She paused as she watched Stanley shuffle around the rear of the truck, his big belly bouncing as much as his sweaty hair. He unlocked the truck, lifted the door, and grabbed a small package, then slammed the door closed. Once he had secured the truck, he shuffled at a half step to the front door, left the package, and shuffled back to the truck. They had watched the scene for the past hour, exactly the same way, played over and over with only the boxes changing. “It's nearly 5pm already, and we still have two hours of this crap to wait on. We should be subcontracting this out to Tillman.” She lifted her head from the window and pulled out her cell phone, while she waited for Gretchen to reply.

“You know, that’s a good idea; Tillman can tail the fat boy until he arrives at the party, and can call us if anything goes wrong. We can head back and get ready, and let the Amigos handle the transfer while we get our drink on. Smart move, Van, give Til a call.” Gretchen replied, even though Vanessa was already dialing the phone. She knew Gretchen well enough to have known her answer already, and Til and his group were trustworthy enough. Tillman ran a courier service around town, delivering paperwork between the businesses when they needed things signed and returned on the same day. It was nearly 5 o'clock, so Vanessa knew that Til would be done and heading for home. She waited for an answer, and then explained the situation quickly to the man. She then gave him the address where they were at, and hung up. “

“Okay, he is on his way with another guy; they know the drill, tail him until 7 and give us a call if he doesn't go to your house as planned. He should be here in a few minutes, and we can head to your house.” Vanessa reached over the seat and slapped Gretchen's upturned hand, which woke Renee. She sat up, startled at the sound, with drool running down her cheek. Her foggy eyes looked from Gretchen to Vanessa and back again, and she shook her head and lay back against the seat. “What the hell did you do that for, I almost pissed myself. Are we done yet, I need to go get something to eat and go to the restroom.” She paused and yawned, wiping the side of her face and rubbing the drool off. She then wiped her hand across the back of Leesa's seat, and smiled as she saw the scowl in the rear-view mirror. “I had the craziest dream, ya'll. It was about Stanley, but it wasn't him. He was a different man, and he ran the whole world.” She laughed lightly as Leesa started the car and began to drive, then she stated. “Let's stop for a drink on the way home, I need to kill this hangover so I am ready for tonight.”

I finished my last stop at exactly 6:15 pm, and then wondered what to do next. I still had 45 minutes until we were scheduled to meet, but Pleckerman also requires us to be in by 7 pm unless we called in to inform him. I pulled down a back street between US 1 and San Marco Avenue, the two roads which created a “V” as they lead south into the downtown area, one ending on the west side of town and crossing the river, the other ending on the east end of town, and also crossing a river. St Augustine was built on a peninsula, and most of the area was prone to flooding, so when I looked out to the west and saw the storm clouds building heavily and coming in our direction I know that there would probably be heavy rains and flooded roads soon. I tried to estimate the amount of time it would take for the cases to be loaded from my truck to the other, along with weather delays and such, and then decided that I would call Pleckerman and tell him that I was broken down or stuck and wouldn’t be back until 8:30. That would give me plenty of time to transfer the cargo, even if it stormed, and then get back without getting in trouble. Although it was still pretty early, the clouds that were rolling in were creating the illusion of sunset, and it seemed later than it really was. When I felt that I had my story straight, I pulled out my cellphone and dialed the number, hoping that Julie, Mr. Pleckerman's assistant, would answer. Julie was normally very nice, unless Mr. Pleckerman had skipped his daily golf round and stayed at the shop, in which case she would be frazzled and bitchy. The phone rang twice before a woman's voice answered, and in the background I could hear Pleckerman's nasal whining crescendo and then abate, before beginning to crescendo again. Pleckerman had two volumes; loud, and screaming loud. Someone had obviously screwed something up, or Pleckerman had missed his golf game and was looking to take it out on everyone else. I almost hung up the phone but Julie caught me before I had a chance. “Stanley, what's wrong? You having issues like everyone else is today?” Her voice sounded weary and worn, and I wondered how long she would be able to handle working in the thankless job that she had before she broke down and quit. I was trying to decide what to say when she continued. “Bob has gotten flooded out of half of his neighborhood, and Reggie has gone to help him. Sven is broken down with a flat tire south of town, and Harold got in at 4:00 and went home already. So if you have a problem, you will either have to deal with it yourself, or tell Mr. Pleckerman, because I have had enough of today already. Why are you calling?” She paused, and in the background I could hear Pleckerman, who seemed to be on another phone call, shouting curses and threats through his phone. I didn't want to deal with Pleckerman, so I answered Julie in the most delicate way possible. “Yeah, Julie, I'm sorry but I have been delayed. I am stuck in a mud hole off of Landrum Road, and can't get the truck out.” I could get away with telling that lie, I thought to myself, because Landrum Road had been muddy this afternoon when I had delivered down there. “Tell Mr. Pleckerman that I won't need any help, though; I have a friend with a tow truck who is coming to pull me out, but I will be late...probably around 8:30. Can you ask Mr. Pleckerman if that is okay, because if not he will need to get someone out here and pay for it. My friend will do it for free, but he is stuck at an accident scene for the next hour, so...” I heard Julie sigh in the background and she grunted for me to hold on, and then I heard her interrupt Pleckerman and tell him the situation. Pleckerman's voice rose for a moment, then lowered as quickly, and Julie answered back. “He said that it's fine, Stanley, but do not be out after 9:00 pm or you will have to deal with the consequences. It's your lucky night, Greenbaldemal; if the others weren't having trouble too, then he would have ripped you apart. Be sure to make it by 9, buddy; he is in no mood tonight to be patient.” She hung up the phone with those ominous words, and I felt a great relief lift from my shoulders; I would have no problem making it back in time, and Mr. Pleckerman probably wouldn't even care that I was after 7, because he hadn't had to spend any money coming to get me. For a moment I began to think that everything might turn out alright after all.