Rick Mallet Ch. 17-18

Ch. 17 The Lake in the Mountains, the Car in the Lake, the Man in the Car

Owen's eyes in the mirror went a little squirrelly, pinballing from Angel to me and back. His shoulders tightened. "Can't we just go home, Angel?"

"The lake."

"You're the boss." He returned his attention to the road. The Hummer passed through the Stonewood's security gate, but before we reached the mansion, we turned onto a dirt track that wound upward toward the ridgeline. Angel sat as far from me as she could, looking out the window and not speaking. From somewhere she produced a glass pipe, a lighter, and a dab, and started blowing clouds, cranking herself up.

The exhaustion of the day, and the bumping, jostling grind of the Hummer took me back, and brought me to a knife edge of tense expectation. I close my eyes for a moment. Just a moment....

I snapped awake. The Hummer slowed, the engine taching down. Through the windshield a one-story wooden house with a covered porch was visible, behind it, a short stretch of open ground, with scrubby trees off to either side. Moonlight shone off a lake, silhouetting a shadowy dock.

Angel opened the door on her side of the Hummer, saying, "C'mon Doggy, I want to show you something."

"Haven't you shown me everything already?"

Nobody laughed.

We exited the vehicle and walked down to the dock, Owen trailing a few steps behind. Out at the end of the dock, Angel pointed. "It's here in the water."

I stepped forward.

She turned and hurled herself at me, like a fullback blocking a linebacker on a toss sweep.

I toppled forward and sideways. Reaching out, clutching for something to prevent the fall, I got a desperate finger hold on the top off Angel's bustier. As I toppled into the water, I glimpsed her spun eyes, snarling mouth, and perfect plastic breasts -- exposed again as the bustier pulled free. She teetered for a moment, then helplessly followed me into the water.

I plunged downward in the darkness, but not far. There was something there. Not the mucky bottom of the lake, something big, hard, and gleaming faintly in the filtered moonlight: a sports car. I pulled myself over beside it. Pressed against the side window from inside the car was a pale, doughy, rotting oblong: a human face, much decayed. Randy Mercury's sightless eyes looked out at me.

I turned and braced my feet against the car. Launching myself with a desperate thrust I drove into Angel, my shoulder taking her in the rib cage. I wrapped my arms around her, turning her so my head was tucked against her back. My kicking legs found the lake bottom, and I drove us a few steps toward the shoreline. I had one of her arms secured upward, and my hand behind her neck, in the old half-nelson. I pumped my legs together against the lake bottom so we porpoised high out of the water.

Owen stood on the dock, pointing the handgun toward us.

I took in a huge breath, and we plunged back underwater. I whirled us in the water, shifting my arm grip to the now-banned PD chokehold.

We jolted upward again. Turned so that Angel's body was between me and Owen, I shouted, "Don't shoot, Owen!"

Angel thrashed at the water with her legs, clutching over her head toward me. I tightened my arm on her neck, and flopped backward in the shallow water. She grew still and I pushed hard against the bottom once more, thrusting us toward the shore. We broke out again; I shouted again, "Owen, Angel needs help, real help!" Then more quietly as he moved and I turned to keep her body between us, "Every law enforcement agency in the area knows we left the triple-decker together. If you kill me, you'll be on the run, and caught."

Angel sagged in my arms and I loosened the chokehold so she could breath. The blood began to return to her brain.

"Owen!"

He was still pointing the Glock toward us.

"She needs psychiatric help. We can get her to treatment facility. You can help her. But not by killing me. Put the gun down, and come help me with her."

For a moment, he stood, gun hand shaking.

I knelt in the shallow water, Angel hugged tight to me. Her pale, perfect breasts shone in the moonlight with the rise and fall of her breathing. Her mop of red hair straggled down over her face and neck. The miniskirt pooled at water level. Her dick swayed like a slender eel in the lake. Her legs flopped against the lake bottom.

"Put the gun down, Owen."

He set it on the dock.

"Come help me."

I stood and staggered toward dry land, hoisting Angel with me. Owen ran to help. I got to shore and thrust her into his arms. She fell wetly against him, almost over-toppling him. He wrapped his arms around her.

I strode quickly past them and secured the Glock, then sat to catch my breath.

The rest was awkward logistics. I didn't trust them, so I had to get Angel secured, tied up and in the Hummer, before she regained consciousness. I used some laces from the gimp suit. With its wide-open crotch, over-stretched arms and legs, and now the chest spreading like a hooker's legs, I must've looked like a surfer who wiped out into the rocks.

I had Owen call Lily, and had Lily contact Arkham Asylum. Owen drove us to the Stonewood Mansion. Lily took over from there.

We got Angel admitted into the locked wing at Arkham, Owen with her.

Ch. 18 Another Hummer Scene

Back in the Hummer, Lily turned to me. "What the hell happened, Rick?"

"I'll leave the psychobabble to the Arkham docs. Angel killed Mercury because he rejected her for having a dick. Or she had Owen kill him. It amounts to the same thing, and if push comes to shove you can probably pin the rap on the poor kid to save her. He'll probably roll over for it too."

"Jesus, Rick, that's cold."

"Stone cold, Ms. Stonewood."

"Fuck."

She drove in silence for a while. Then spoke without looking away from the road. "I'm not a Stonewood, you know. Yeah, you know my whole bio, so that was a cheap shot, Rick."

"Lily Ho. Stonewood brought your mother Lotus here when Saigon fell. That was her house up by the lake, wasn't it?"

She nodded. "But he wouldn't give us his name, even after his wife left. When Lotus, the Saigon Ho, got too old for him, he moved her up there and started fucking Marilyn. When I turned eighteen it was my turn. All the surfing and modeling and karate are in my bio, but having Rose when I was only nineteen isn't, is it? He couldn't fuck Angel, so he used me until Rose turned eighteen herself. Now I'm afraid he's going to send me to live up by the lake."

"You need to get out of that house."

She didn't hear me. "Mercury was like meat in a shark tank. We all went for him. A real man, not your Daddy or your sister's cuckold husband or the queer chauffeur. And we all snapped at each other too. It's a sick feeling to be jealous when your daughter is sucking your father's dick, Rick. I should have saved her, but I couldn't."

"It wasn't your fault, Lily. You were just a kid trying to save yourself. But now you have to be the grownup, for Rose, for you, for Angel."

She drove in silence, then turned off into a rest area. Unbuckling her seatbelt, she turned toward me, and unbuckled mine. She came to me, face upturned. "Hold me, Rick. I need you right now."

We kissed and hugged, held on for a long minute. Her lips opened softly, like a morning glory at dawn. I slid my tongue in. We breathed together, inhaled each other, became one. And then I was aware of her breasts pressing against me, muscular, firm, resilient. Her athletic body moved against me. I ran my hands down her back, pulling the ao dai up, then massaging her bared buttocks.

Of one accord we moved to the back seat, a slithering movement we had to take in turn, though we were loath to lose touch even for an instant. Somehow we ended up sprawled crosswise, with our heads toward opposite sides of the car.

She murmured, "I need to taste you, Rick. I need to feel you in my mouth." Her hands pulled my dick through the damaged crotch of the gimp suit. Her lips closed around the glans, and I felt soft suction.

"Oh, Lily, that is so good," I told her. "Suck my dick like the sweet lover you are." Then I pushed the ao dai out of my way. Her belly and thighs shone palely in the dim light. A narrow, trimmed triangle of black pubic hair pointed the way toward her lower lips. They were already parting in a welcome, moisture gleaming at the center. I pressed my face between her legs.

Then it was licking and sucking. She tongued under the edge of my glans; I slid my tongue gently along under her clit. She sucked my balls into her mouth one at a time; I used my lips to suckle in her labia, one then the other. She kissed the tip of my dick, sucking gently, then flicking her tongue across it; I took her clit between my lips, applied suction, and flicked with my tongue. She opened her mouth and took me deep, relaxing her throat to let me in, then pulsing it around me with a swallowing motion; I opened my mouth to cover her entire pussy, sucked lips and clit inside and slide the flat of my tongue across her clit.

She erupted, bucking against my face and flapping her legs around my head like a butterfly taking off. She squealed her ecstasy around me.

I kept up the suction and the licking, even as I felt my ball sack tighten, and the cum boil its way down my shaft and out into her throat. My dick pulsed and jerked in her mouth. She held on, sucking me dry.

We sagged against each other, drained.