![Free-eBooks.net](/resources/img/logo-nfe.png)
![All New Design](/resources/img/allnew.png)
The tires of the jet hitting the tarmac at Las Vegas airport woke Derek from his slumber. After Orlando had come the retired chief in San Diego with the unhealthy interest in children. It had been the easiest one yet and also the most pathetic. The man hadn’t given an ounce of effort to save his own life. Tough shit, thought Derek. One more to go and he’d be a semi free man. Banks had been unable to locate the escapee from the security hospital so it looked like the prison hit would be the last one for him. If Banks was a man of his word, that is. He followed the tourists and gamblers departing from the plane down the ramp. He was surprised to see Jasmine, and not Banks, waiting for him as he came out into the lobby.
She looked fantastic in a black leather mini skirt and and a matching tube top. She was wearing her black spike heels. Her blond hair was loose and tumbling down across he tanned shoulders and breasts. All the men seemed to be leering at her.
“There’s my cowboy.” She wrapped her arms around Derek and jammed her tongue into his mouth. Derek was wearing tight shorts and was worried for a nano second that the other passengers may see his instant woody.
“What are you doing here? Where’s Banks?” Derek had never seen Jasmine outside of the base compound.
“Well, that’s one hell of a way to say hi. Are you telling me you’d rather see Banks standing here dressed up like this than me?” She gave her knockout smile. Her teeth had to be capped. They were so white and perfect. This broad could be on a toothpaste or a beer commercial, take your pick. She was red hot.
“Shit, no. It’s just I wasn’t expecting to see you. Usually it’s Banks and he’s all freaked out about something,” he slipped his hand around her waist, “it’s just a nice surprise, that’s all.”
They started through the terminal. “ Banks got a call two nights ago. His father had been real sick recently and the call was from his sister who had been taking care of him. He had lapsed into a coma and died. Had some kind of bone cancer. Banks left right away. He told me to pick you up and give you a couple of nights on the town. He said you deserved time off and that he had been riding you pretty hard.”
“So that’s why he’s been so moody lately,” said Derek.
“You got it. I’ve know him for almost four years and I’ve never seen him as low as he’s been recently. He didn’t want to talk about it. That guy’s a heart attack waiting to happen. Keeps everything bottled up.”
Derek reached down and picked up his bag up off of the carousel. “So where to?” Jasmine hooked her arm through his.
“I’ve got us reservations at Caesar’s Palace.”
For three days and three nights, Derek and Jasmine were as close to being a married couple as anyone could be. They spent their days by pool. Nights at the casinos and shows. And the late nights screwing like two teenagers. Derek had never seen such passion in her. It was almost like he wasn’t a john and she wasn’t a wh... Well, he didn’t even want to think about it. He knew what the situation was. It was hard though not to get his feelings involved.
The afternoon of their last day at the hotel, Derek was laying on the bed watching a ball game and Jasmine had gone out to do some shopping. When she came back to the room she dropped a envelope on his chest.
“What’s this?”
“A little surprise.”
Derek opened the little envelope. Inside were two tickets to the Roberto Duran fight that was being held that night in the sports pavilion of the hotel. It had been sold out for weeks.
“Jesus Christ, Jasmine. Where did you get these? I was so pissed when I went to the box office and saw they were sold out? Man, I love Duran.” He grabbed her and pulled her down onto the bed.
“I know you do. So I went to a scalper that I do business with every once in a while. He still had a couple.”
Derek felt something stir in him. Jealousy?
“You didn’t have to? I mean. Well, you know.”
“Derek,” she laughed, “ I think you’re jealous. I like that. But no, I didn’t screw him. He was more than happy to take cash instead of trade. I think he might like guys.”
Derek jumped off the bed. “Well, goddamn woman, let me get dressed and take you to dinner so we can get our asses down to the fights.” Jasmine couldn’t believe it. This big hulking man was as excited as a little kid.
They burned two joints of the weed that Derek had lifted from the pimp in Orlando as they got ready. That primed them for the steak and lobster dinners they both ordered and then washed down with three bottles of Dom Perignon. On the way to the fight, Jasmine broke out the Peruvian flake and they snorted the long lines of the devil’s dandruff on her compact mirror.
At the fight they pounded down tall cups of draft beer, wolfed down hot dogs, and screamed and yelled as a still not over the hill Duran had pounded his midwestern journeyman opponent around the ring. He couldn’t score a knockout but won a lopsided decision. When they walked out of the arena and stopped at a booth to buy a Duran T-shirt, it gave Derek great pleasure to see all the other men standing around and ogling Jasmine.
They went back to the room and Derek ordered up another bottle of champagne and rolled up a joint as Jasmine changed for bed. She came out of the bathroom in a see through black teddy, garter belt with black nylons, and matching crotch less panties. Derek felt his jaw drop open
“Holy Christ, Jasmine, you’re incredible.”
She sat down next to him and took the joint out of his hand. She took a long toke.
“I wanted tonight to be special.”
They didn’t fuck. They made love. It was the first time Derek had ever noticed the difference. It went on for seemingly hours. To Derek it almost seemed like a beautiful hallucination. Exhausted they dropped off to sleep in each others arms.
It was Jasmine on the phone that woke him. His eyes slowly opened to take a glance at the clock. The red digits red 3:08. Jasmine’s voice had slipped into an Arkansas drawl.
“Mother.... Mother Kirkland, please. I know it’s late but I need to talk to him. Please. I know it’s not the right time but I really need to talk to him.”
Jasmine was crying. Her heard her put the phone down and snort another line. She picked up the phone and started in again.
“Mother Kirkland, I need talk to my baby, please, just for a second, I need to hear his voice, just for a minute, please, just a minute.”
Kirkland. The name struck hard in Derek’s alcohol and coke soaked brain. Where had he heard that name before? Kirkland.
“You wicked old bitch. It’s just like you to throw that in my face. Like it was all my fault. What about your precious little baby? He’s the one that got us into this shit. What? Please don’t. Mother Kirkland! Mother Kirkland! Shit!” Jasmine slammed the phone down.
Derek heard another line being snorted up and then the sound of champagne being poured. Jasmine got up and staggered into the bathroom. Through the closed door her could hear her throwing up and crying.
Kirkland. Mark Kirkland? He was an inmate at Leavenworth just down the cell block from Derek. That was the only Kirkland that Derek could remember. He was what other inmates and staff called a “bug.” An inmate who had lost or was starting to lose his mind. Kirkland would smear his shit on the walls, get naked and jack off, and on more than one occasion had mixed up a “cocktail’, a mixture of urine and feces, which he would then throw at a guard. This would bring a response from the cell extraction team and a visit to the hole for Kirkland, along with an asskicking.
The first night he had spent with Jasmine came back to mind. His first night out of the joint and at the compound. Guinness and cocaine. A beautiful hooker at his beck and call. He was only human. He had partied down hard and had torn Jasmine up. They had been laying, there had been a little pillow talk. But what was it she had said? Do you remember an inmate named...? That’s what she had said! But Kirkland? Did she say Kirkland? Mark Kirkland? He had had a blackout that night, that was for damn sure, but some of it was coming back.
Damn, he had cottonmouth! Derek climbed out of the bed and padded over to the mini fridge and pulled out a bottle of mineral water, slamming it down in four big swallows. He let out an enormous belch as he crawled back into bed.
Jasmine came out of the bathroom. She had gotten out of her porn star pajamas and had put on one of the hotel bathrobes. She had a wet wash rag and was wiping it over her face. It was the worst shape Derek had ever seen her in.
She gave him a grim smile. “God, you can be such a pig sometimes. I think that’s one thing I won’t miss about you.”
Derek was laid out on his back with two pillows under his head. He didn’t answer her.
Jasmine turned her face away and stared at the muted television. The pay per view porn flicks had been running during their lovemaking sessions, but now an old W. C. Fields movie was on. The drunk old bastard was reeling around on the screen.
She sighed. “How much did you hear?”
“I don’t know, probably most of it.”
She turned to look at him. “Did you know who I was talking about?”
“Kirkland? The only Kirkland I’ve ever known was locked up in the joint with me. Mark Kirkland. Is that who you were asking me about that first night?”
Jasmine nodded and turned away again. “He’s my husband,” she whispered.
“Your husband? What the hell are you talking about?”
She sat at the foot of the bed and rambled on in a monotone voice. “Mark was a naval officer and we were stationed up in Washington state. He had a six month tour of duty over in Bangkok. We were both into the party life and Mark used to send me home pot every once in a while. Just for partying, I never sold anything. Then he met this connection who could get this incredible heroin at a dirt cheap price. Before you knew it, he was sending me home pounds and even kilos in the mail. I turned it over to a dealer friend of ours in Seattle and we were making a fucking killing. Went on for almost four months, then just before Marks rotation was about over it all fell apart. NIS busted us and Banks stepped in to save the day. He offered Mark the same kind of deal you got, only Mark didn’t have the guts for it. He did one mission and something went wrong. Banks had him shipped first to Portsmouth and then when that shut down, he went to Leavenworth.”
She turned around and glared at Derek. “Then Banks turned me out. First it was just for you guys to use me as a sex toy. Then he got greedy and started me working the hotels and casinos.”
Derek sat up. “Why? What’s he holding over you?”
“He told me that if I didn’t, he’d have Mark killed in prison. But that first he’d make sure that he was good and gang raped. Banks is a sick, twisted son of a bitch.”
“Shit, Jasmine. I thought that you chose to become a pro,” said Derek lamely.
“Jesus Christ, Derek. Don’t be stupid. No woman chooses to be a fucking hooker. It’s not a career choice or something you go to college for. Something horrible happens in your life and it just happens. You wouldn’t believe some of the shit I’ve been forced to do.” Jasmine suddenly doubled over like she was stricken with stomach cramps as she grabbed at her hair and began to rock back and forth.
Derek got out of bed and slipped on his pants. He went over and sat down by Jasmine and wrapped his arms around her.
“God, I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t know. I just didn’t know.”
“They’ll take my baby away from me, Derek. I have to keep doing this or they’ll take away Eric.”
“You have a son?”
Jasmine sat up and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “He’s with Marks mother in Little Rock. Banks told me that he’ll take him away and put him in a group home if I ever think about leaving or telling any of you what’s really going on. Mother Kirkland blames me for all of this. It’s up to her if I can even talk to Eric on the phone.”
Derek felt a chill like a frozen snake had crawled up his ass and was burrowing up his spine. “What do you mean, any of us?”
She sat up and stared at Derek. “Sweetie, I don’t know how many of you Banks has had me keep happy.”
She stood and walked over to the window as she wrapped her arms around herself as if she was cold. “Sooner or later, it happens.”
“What happens,” Derek squeaked out. “They never come back.”
Derek shot to his feet. “I knew that motherfucker would sell me out,” he screamed. He ran over and began to stuff his clothes into his bag. He was panicking big time. “I’ll tell you one goddamn thing. That bastard will have to hunt me down and put a bullet in my head. I’m sure as shit not going to stick around and just let it happen.”
Jasmine ran over and grabbed Derek by the arm. “Derek, you can’t leave. Banks will know that I told you. He’ll kill Mark and take Eric away. Please don’t do this to me.”
“Mark is gone, Jasmine. Not physically, but in his mind. The last time I saw the guy he was smearing shit all over the walls. If he ever gets out, you won’t he know who he is.”
“That may be true, Derek, but they’re all I have. Him and Eric are all I have. Please, please don’t take this away from me. Banks is an animal, he’ll do it.”
Derek threw down his bag. “And what should I do, Jasmine? Stay here and let myself get whacked? Is that what you want? Is this all been a charade for you? You and me. I’m not gonna bullshit you. The longer I’m with you, the more I can’t get you out of my mind. The last three days with you have been about the best of my life. And I thought you might feel the same,” he kicked the bag across the room, “what a dumb ass I’ve been.”
He felt her hands on his shoulders. “With the others it never meant anything. It’s all always been different with you. You know that.”
He turned around and grabbed her by the shoulders. “ Then let’s take off. You and me. If Banks come after us, fuck it, I’ll take him out. I’ve got cash. We can leave the country.”
Tears were streaming down Jasmine’s face. “I can’t Derek. I just can’t. I can’t lose my baby.” She hugged him. “But if I could leave, I would want it to be with you,” she whispered in his ear.
Derek felt so tired he thought he could collapse. “OK, Jasmine, OK. I’ll stay until I get briefed for the next mission and then make my break.” He lifted her chin up so she was looking at him. “Can I trust you? Or is everything I tell you going straight back to Banks?”
She nodded “You know you can trust me. Always.”
“So what’s your real name then? Not too many girls from Arkansas are named Jasmine.”
“Rachel. My real name is Rachel. Rachel Perignon Kirkland.”
Derek walked over and scooped up a handful of slot machine change. “OK, then, Rachel Brown Kirkland. I have to go down to the lobby to use a pay phone.”
“I’ll see you when you get back,” she paused, “Jake Morrow.”