Journal of an Agent Ch. 28

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Jacob's last move, & cuckolding Neve Campbell's boyfriend.
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Part 26 of the 28 part series

Updated 10/23/2022
Created 05/22/2001
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Standard Disclaimer:

You must be 18 to read this story, be able to read erotica in your community, not be offended by the contents of it...blah blah, you know the rest.

This story may be distributed freely, for commercial or non-commercial use, but PLEASE leave my email/name on it! That's all I ask!

This is Part 28 of an ongoing series. Yes I know the celebs don't act like this in real life, but this is a fantasy after all.

* * *

(In the last chapter, having realized the full scope of Jacob's plan to blackmail him and take down Shooting Stars completely, not to mention ruin Dean, Dean enlisted the help of Kirsten Dunst to turn the tables on Jacob, setting him up for his own dose of blackmail. The plan falls apart, but Jacob is not done yet, breaking into Dean's home for one final confrontation.)

Jacob bounded toward me, knife in hand, and I stepped out of the way quickly to avoid being struck. Jacob lost his balance, but only for a step, spinning back around for another pass. This time I was more ready for him, blocking his arm as it came down at my head in a stabbing motion. I landed a quick punch to Jacob's stomach, but it didn't seem to phase him. Although he was smaller than me, I knew that his party-hard lifestyle and peak physical shape demanded that he be able to take a punch.

Crashing into the wall, the knife Jacob held dug itself deep into the plaster of the hallway, tearing off shreds of wallpaper. Yelling savagely, he yanked the knife back out and moved towards me again. I was off step a little and couldn't brace for the impact completely as his hand slid underneath my shoulder and the knife made contact with my skin, sinking inside deeply.

For a moment, there was no pain as I felt the blade slide into my insides. But then like an electric shock, a dull warmness and a throbbing ache began to fill up my whole side. Jacob yanked the knife out without hesitation and I saw that it was a deep crimson red, matching the color of my shirt. A large red stain had started to spread down beneath my arm and chest, soaking into the material that I wore. My body felt like it was on fire now as I stumbled against the wall while Jacob positioned himself to go at me again.

Panting hard, I put my hand over my wounded side and felt the sticky blood coat my fingers, almost hot as it leaked out of me. I couldn't tell how deep it had gone but I knew it was not going to be pretty.

Satisfied with his initial hit, Jacob moved towards me again, but this time I was ready. Waiting until the last possible moment till he was right atop of me, I landed an uppercut to his jaw using the hand that had been holding my side. It was just like in the movies, his whole body flew backwards down the hall, knocking him off his feet. The knife that he had been holding clattered innocently against the side of the wall, the blade leaving a slight crimson streak on the tan wallpaper. I reached for it, but Jacob was too quick, back on his feet and his mouth full of blood. He kicked me hard in the side, right in the spot where he had stabbed me and I saw stars, feeling like I was going to black out any second. I collapsed to the floor as Jacob towered over me, the blood from his mouth and swollen lips falling to the carpet like some kind of rabid beast. He grinned wildly again and grabbed the knife from the floor, panting hard as he stood over my sprawled body.

Bending down to one knee, he traced the blade against my chest playfully, trying to decide I suppose, where to stab me next and finish me off. Grabbing the handle tightly in his hand, he lifted the knife in the air like a killer from a horror movie and plunged down towards my chest quickly.

Time seemed to slow as my head spun from dizziness and the coldness that was slowly moving through out my body. I felt for sure that I was done for, but with one last effort (and some perfect timing), I threw one final punch directly for his face, hoping to knock him down once more.

I missed his face, but managed to hit him directly in the neck, right by his Adam's apple. As time crawled, the expression on his face changed from one of sheer rage to a look of panicked confusion. His arm came down on me, but the knife fell limply from his hand as he put both hands to his throat, struggling to breath.

I had managed to hit him somehow in a pressure point directly at the base of his neck, cutting off the supply of air to his throat. Jacob collapsed to his knees in front of me as his eyes went wide, trying to get any bit of precious air he could into his body. I watched him land on his legs but not for long - I managed to stagger to my feet, my body hunched over at the waist and stood up just enough to land a kick directly to his face. I heard his head snap back on his neck as he collapsed on the floor, unconscious or dead, I didn't really care.

Still on my feet but very woozy, I stumbled down the hall towards one of the guest rooms. Grabbing the phone off the side of the bed stand, I yanked it down to the floor with me. I pushed 911 and gasped loudly into the phone.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"Stabbing...assault...he tried to kill me...4173 Oceanside Drive...help" I gasped into the phone. The operator's voice faded away from me as I drifted into unconsciousness, the phone falling from my hand like a heavy weight that I was no longer able to hold.

I awoke painfully sore in a hospital bed. The rush of morning traffic slowly drifted into my ears as I re-entered the waking world and took in my surroundings. It hurt to breath, much less move but I realized then that I was thankfully still alive. I lay in bed for what must have been a few minutes, remembering in as best I could what happened. Moving my hand slowly down to the side where I had been stabbed, it felt painful and swollen to the touch. I could feel stitches holding my skin together tightly, but they throbbed as I ran my fingers over them.

A nurse walked in, diverting my attention. She was frumpy and a little overweight, her eyes conveying all the pain and sorrow she had seen. To my surprise, she was followed by a uniformed police officer, LAPD's finest, who had taken his hat off when he walked in. He showed no signs of any emotion at all as the nurse picked up a chart at the foot of my bed.

"Mr. Simonds, how are you feeling?" she said, all business as she scanned the clipboard.

"Like shit, thanks. What day is it?" I asked, my mouth dry and raspy as my tongue slurred the words together.

"It's Thursday. You came out of post-op about 12 hours ago. You are a very lucky man Mr. Simonds, that you're assailant didn't hit any major arteries or organs," the nurse replied.

"Assailant...Jacob. What...where is he?" I asked. My head was groggy, probably from the pain killers they had me on, and I now noticed that I was handcuffed to the bed on my left side.

"The other Mr. Simonds? I'm afraid he didn't make it. Head trauma," the nurse said nonchalantly. I felt a wave of emotion run over me, as I was torn between feeling sorrow or pleasure over the fact that Jacob, the half-brother who had made my life hell for the past week, was dead.

"Why am I handcuffed?" I asked.

"Talk to officer O'Reilly about that. He needs to ask you a few questions anyways," the nurse said, setting the chart back and leaving the room. The officer moved to the foot of the bed and adjusted his belt, putting his hands on his hips.

"Mr. Simonds, can you tell me what happened up to the time you called 911?" he asked gruffly.

"I had just woken up from a nap with a lady friend of mine and as I was walking her out, I heard a crash upstairs. Because it was raining at the time, I thought it was a tree branch through a window or something. I went upstairs only to find Jacob, my half-brother, waiting there for me with a knife. He had broken into the house through a window and was obviously there to try and kill me. We scuffled a little bit, during which he stabbed me in the side. I managed right before he tried to put the final blow on me to hit him in the throat. That stunned him, at which point I got up and managed to kick him in the head before dialing 911 and passing out," I said, panting for air as I recollected the event. "I didn't know I killed him,"

The cop didn't even look up from his paperwork. "Uh-huh. You snapped his neck I'm afraid, but if your story checks out, it was a case of self-defense and you won't be charged," he said, writing something down on his clipboard and slipping his pen into his pocket.

"So then you will take these handcuffs off, right?" I asked.

"When you are ready to check out, I'll leave the key with the stationed officer. I don't believe you to be a flight risk Mr. Simonds, but procedure says we have to hold you while we still can. Chances are you'll be free to go by tomorrow when you leave," the cop said. The nurse had re-entered the room.

"Officer, Mr. Simonds needs his rest after surgery. Are you almost done?" the nurse asked.

"I am done," he said, walking past her. "Thank you for your time Mr. Simonds,"

I laid my head back on the soft pillow as the nurse moved next to me by the bed.

"Do you need anything else Mr. Simonds?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you," I said. She smiled and turned off the light by my bed, walking out into the busy office corridor. I laid there trying to contemplate everything that had lead up to my second trip to the hospital in less than a week, but the meds I was on were too much and I felt my thoughts drift away and my mind slip into a deep sleep.

I awoke the next morning feeling sore and stiff, but much better than when I had first opened my eyes. The day was bright and promised to be hot, I knew. Glancing down at my arm, the cuffs were gone, as promised. Using my good arm, I managed to prop myself up with some effort. I felt a little dizzy as the blood rushed to my head, but I was able to very carefully plant my feet on the cool linoleum floor and stand up.

Just as I did, another nurse came in. This one was much younger than the first one I had seen last night, which now felt like some sort of surreal dream thanks to the waning effects of the painkillers.

"Are you ready to check out Mr. Simonds? We can have a wheel-chair brought around for you to take you to a taxi," the nurse asked. She was vibrant and perky for so early in the morning, but I couldn't help but smile at her youthfulness and her beauty. She wasn't gorgeous by any means, simply an ordinary girl who was sure to be able to find an ordinary husband someday (if she didn't already have one) and lead a nice normal life, taking care of people who got themselves mixed up in all sorts of things, like me.

I filled out the required paperwork and waited out front of the hospital in a very stiff wheel chair for the cab the hospital had called to arrive. The morning was still a little damp with the morning dew, but everywhere the sound of birds mingled with the far off interstate and it's rush hour traffic. I was startled back to reality from this serene setting by the grumbling engine of the cab, driven by a cabby who looked like he could care less about me or the stiff pain that I was in.

Arriving home, I noticed the police tape around the entrance to my house, bringing back eerie similarities to when Julie, my former assistant, had stalked and tried to kill me. Shaking it from my head, I paid the driver and walked very slowly and very rigidly into the house.

Making my way up the stairs was a chore, causing my forehead to sweat and my skin to feel sticky as I passed more police tape inside, blocking off an entire corner of the hallway. I was surprised that they hadn't cleaned it up yet, but a note on the hallway said that they would arrive later in the day for the mess. The blood looked far less horrifying in the light of the day now, a maroon stain in bizarre shapes dotting the walls and in a big dry puddle by the floor. I half expected a chalk outline of where Jacob's body had been to be traced into the carpet, but there wasn't one. Only in the movies I thought to myself, only in the movies.

Collapsing onto a guest bed, I simply kicked my shoes off and lay on my good side, exhausted from the car ride home and the entire week, the overdrive my body had been on finally easing back into a more manageable state.

The phone rang many hours later and I sat up in bed, struggling to sit up and grab it from it's night stand. I felt much better now, still sore but definitely on my way to recovery.

"Hello?"

"Hello Mr. Simonds. I'm calling from BT&T long distance and I was wondering if you are happy with your current calling plan..." the voice on the other end said. I hung up the phone and yanked the cord from the wall, the base of the phone getting one final ring in as it clattered to the floor.

Getting up, I walked around and stretched. Before I left the hospital, they had given me a sheet of minor stretches to do and a prescription for mild painkillers in case the pain got a little too intense for over the counter medicine. Following the sheets instructions, I worked the muscles in my side for a few minutes and by the time I was done, felt much better and definitely ready to return to normal.

Showering, I went downstairs and devoured some leftovers I had in the fridge. It was Monday evening now, I knew everyone at the office would be gone. Popping a pain killer just in case that my muscles started to ache too much from the exercise, I sat down on the couch and watched TV for a bit.

After about 30 minutes of this or so, I grew restless. The painkillers were supposed to make me feel drowsy but instead seemed to make me want to go out and do something. I felt alert and awake, my body running on all it's cylinders again. I decided that what I needed was a good, stiff drink. Checking the liquor cabinet only to find it just about dry, I went to the garage and got into my car, heading out onto the freeway.

I headed towards downtown, but thought better of it, feeling awake and alert and yet still not ready to deal with clients or a crowded bar after the hell that I had been through. Pulling off an overpass, I pulled onto what was essentially a one street town just outside of LA, the sign with the city name passing so fast I missed it when I blinked. I drove down the main street of the city looking for somewhere to stop. I found it at the only place that seemed open besides the gas stations (it was approaching 10 now, I guess the residents of sticks-ville or wherever I was went to sleep pretty early), in a place called the Rowdy RoadHog.

Despite the name, the place was actually pretty tame once I got inside. It was mostly a couples bar - meaning, it was a place where couples went to be alone, or desperate men went to find women, or anyone willing to take them home for that matter. It was smoky and smelled like stale beer, the jukebox in the corner warbling some warped country record as I took a seat at the bar. This was just the place I wanted, even though I was overdressed in my jeans and sports coat.

Ordering just a beer, rather than my usual scotch, I downed it fairly quickly and promptly ordered another. I saw some of the other people seated at the bar glance me over as I drank, but they didn't seem to give me a second thought. I didn't care. I just wanted to be left alone, to relax and think about things by myself.

I don't know how long passed, maybe half an hour. I was on my third beer by then and with the combination of the pain pills was feeling pretty buzzed. Normally I'm not the type of person who likes to lose control of their actions, but for once it felt nice to feel uninhibited and just let go. Which is probably why I was a little bleary-eyed when I finally noticed a brunette sitting in the seat next to me.

She was very attractive, although dressed in a way that wasn't very becoming; overdone makeup and a trashy looking outfit made her seem garish even against all the other trailer trash in the place. She caught me looking and I turned away, finding myself suddenly interested in the health warnings on the back of the bottle. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her scoot her seat down next to me.

"Hey there handsome, I couldn't help but notice you looking," she said. I looked up and our eyes met, suddenly bringing about a moment of shock and revelation to both of us.

It was Neve Campbell, the star of the now classic horror series "Scream" and one of the main characters from "Party of Five". Her normally pale skin was looking even more pale in the light of the bar but there was no doubting it was her. I had talked with her some at various parties and get togethers and we seemed to get along ok, but the relationship had stayed as friends-of-friends and nothing more.

"Neve!" I said a little loudly.

"Dean! Shit, I," she said, her face turning red even under the heavy eyeliner and lipstick she wore.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"Shh...not so loud," she replied, bringing her head closer to the bar. I did the same.

"What? What's the matter?" I said. My words felt a little slurred but I was still sharp enough to be puzzled by what she was doing in a dump like this.

"I...well, here's the thing. This guy I'm dating, Matt, he well, likes seeing me pick up other guys and then...you know..."

"No, I don't. What?"

"Have sex with them back at a motel," she blurted, her voice almost a whisper now.

"So you came to try and pick me up?"

"No! We came here because it was so far away from the rest of Hollywood and I thought that it would be a good place to blend in and not get noticed by anyone who knew me,"

"Funny, that's the same reason I came here," I said, sipping my beer. The whole story seemed really funny to me and I laughed to myself, but Neve was obviously very nervous.

"Go ahead, laugh it up. You have no idea how shocked I am to even find you here," she said, not appreciating the humor of the situation.

"I've had a rough few days," I said quietly.

"Well, I'm sorry. But this is the first time I've ever done anything like this and without pissing Matt off I'm not sure how to handle things. Oh shit! Here he comes!" Neve said, turning back around to the bar.

I heard footsteps behind me and looked up to see a massive guy towering over me. He was dressed in raggedy clothes and his face was unshaven. His bleached blond hair looked out of place on his disheveled frame, like he spent more time on his hair than on anything else.

"Hey baby," he said, squeezing in between us and giving Neve a kiss. "So, I see you've found a new friend. Would he be interested in what we have planned?"

"Honey, the thing is, his name is," Neve started to say but I cut her off.

"My name is Jacob. And yes, from what your lady tells me I think I might be interested," I said, the alcohol taking over in my rational thinking. Normally I wouldn't get involved in something like this - past experience in my college days told me that they only ended badly. But I was pretty sloshed and I was starting to feel a bit horny, so I decided to roll with it. Neve shot me an evil glance that only I picked up on.

"Great! Well then, shall we go?" Matt said, giving me a slap on the back. I almost chipped my tooth on the bottle, as he caught me in mid-sip, but I played it off pretty coolly and stood from the bar. Neve looked apprehensive as she too stood up and we started making our way out of the bar to the lot outside.

Once we were out of the noisy din of the place, Matt reached into his pocket and handed me a key.

"This is for room #8 in the Cactus Snooze Inn about 4 miles down the road. If you are still interested in our little rendezvous, meet us there in 20 minutes," Matt said, leading Neve to his Eclipse at the end of the lot. I felt a little woozy but thought I could make it four miles.

"Ok, I'll see you there!" I called after them. Neve gave me a look that was hard to describe - it was mixture of disgust, of anger but also of puzzlement as to why I was doing this. The truth was, I didn't know. But with all my problems solved for the time being, it seemed like a semi-sane thing to do.

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