An Assassin's Life Pt. 03

The Ford's 5.0L Coyote V8 engine surged, begging me to let go of the reins. I did, and we blew down the highway, the powerful V8 humming, chewing up the road at speeds that were surprising for a pickup truck. Hell, the fucking thing was built to haul nearly 13,000 pounds. Unleashed, it showed off its breeding, and what a joy it was.

As soon as I was out of Moab's and the local cops' radar guns, I let it rip down the road at 100 mph. The damn 400 horsepower engine was designed for the Ford Mustang. Imagine what it does in that lightweight speed demon!

In no time at all, I had hit the junction with I-70 and decided to avoid the interstate and stay on the local frontage road into the mountains to see if there were any amazing views. The area was filled with amazing views anywhere you looked. I also thought away from civilization, I could do a little target practice since someone was shooting at me, and it had been a while since I'd been at a shooting range.

I was bucking my way along the dirt, potholed local road heading to what my GPS called "Doug's Point" when I spotted the van. An old, white Ford Econoline. But not a junker. Not too banged up, no rust, looking like a well-used workhorse broken down on the side of the road. I slowed down, did a safety scan of the area, and stopped to see if they needed some help isolated out here the way they were.

I checked my Glock and stepped out, asking, "Hello, anyone there? Do you need some help?"

There was no response. I walked over towards the van. Maybe they were hiking or on a picnic. That's what you did in this part of the world.

As I got closer to the van, I heard a banging. Soft but incessant. I scanned the area again for threats and slowly circled the van looking into the driver's window. Nothing. Walked backward around the van and went to the sliding door on the side, expecting it to be locked, but surprisingly it slid open to reveal a terrified young, naked Latino girl tied up to the freight hooks of the walls with duck tape over her mouth. She started whimpering when she saw me. I didn't know if it was in fear or relief.

She seemed around 18. Maybe 19. In a different circumstance, cute with a nice figure, but not like this.

I jumped in, put my fingers over my mouth in the international "quiet sign," and carefully took the duck tape off of her mouth.

"Mi sister, mi sister," she kept muttering over and over.

I looked at her. "Habla Ingles?"

She nodded yes.

Good.

I looked at her and said, "I'm here to help. I'm not going to hurt you. Where is your sister?"

She nodded out toward the hills beyond the van.

"Okay, listen to me. Do you really understand me?"

She nodded yes.

"I'm going to find and help your sister, but just in case anything happens to me, for your safety, I have to leave you like this. Okay?"

She frantically started shaking her head no and pounding the floor of the van with her feet, shrieking, "No! No! No!"

I put my hands on the side of her head and looked into her eyes.

"You don't know me, but if you and your sister want to live, you must trust me." And I put the tape back over her mouth, closed the sliding door, and carefully went off to scout for sis.

It didn't take long. About 200 yards away, behind a mesa bluff, I spotted them. He had a fully naked, 20ish, voluptuous Latino girl with thick, luxurious black hair shaking no in all directions, spread-eagled on the ground with a knife to her throat, his rapist ass thrusting away as he fucked her without mercy.

Her clothes were torn and scattered all over. I noticed pink panties haphazardly hanging from a rock to the side. Her arms were over her head. Taped.

He was cruel. Hitting and hurting sensitive parts of her body as he had his demonic way with her.

I'd seen enough. Pulled out my Glock, hid it behind my back said, "Hey buddy, whatcha doing to that girl?"

He lifted his square skulled, shaved head over to me and, without missing a stroke, said, "Hey, cuz, why don't you mind your own fuckin' business and fuck off! And he turned away from me.

"Cuz, I'm making this my business. Now, I'm gonna ask you nicely, only one time to get off that girl."

He looked back at me. "Hey, shit for brains. Why don't you go fuck yourself unless you want some of this fine brown pussy. I'll turn her over, and you can have her ass. Just ram it in, and we'll DP the stupid cunt. " Turned his head and kept pounding away.

I noticed his various tattoos, including the teardrop under his eye. Prison tattoos. I'd know them anywhere. I started to think about the prisons close to the area if there were any. There didn't have to be one. The high desert, the mesas, and the miles of no real population were great places to hide.

The real Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid were from the area. Actually, further west by what is now Zion National Park and the hills and the caves of the area are what became the legendary hideout, Hole In The Wall. But the southern Utah mesas and hills are famous for criminals and hideouts.

The two primary state prisons were within 200 miles to the northeast. The no man's land of eastern Utah is a prime place to hide. I pulled my Glock and fired a shot about 10' over their heads.

That got his attention.

I looked at the asshole and said, "Cuz, I warned you, this is my business, and if you don't take your puny, disgusting cock out of her right now, you're dead."

He shoved his cock in as far as it could go, but this time he stopped and looked at me, repositioning the knife so now it was pointed into the girl's throat.

He pulled his head up and turned to me as he defiantly continued to thrust in and out. "Shithead, what the fuck do you think you're doing here. Trying to be Batman or something?"

"No, asshole. I'm not trying anything. I'm stopping a rape. I've asked you nicely and given you a choice to do the right thing. Since you didn't listen, you now have about 5 seconds to live. Pull out of that girl, roll over to her side, drop your knife, or I'm going to kill you like the snake you are."

He poked the point of the knife into her neck, drawing a drop of blood or two.

"Really, Superman. And how are you going to do that?" Still with his head up looking at me.

And I took two quick steps to my left and put a single bullet square into the rapist's head right at the temple. He dropped upon the young lady as I ran up to her as fast as I could, threw him off her, ripped the tape off her arms, picked her up, and held her to me despite the blood soaking her from the shot.

Headshots bleed.

She was crying and shaking.

"You are safe now. You are safe. He is dead. Let's get you back to your sister, get you both to a hospital and to safety.

I threw my coat over her and told her to wait for a moment as I surveyed the scene. She stood there shivering.

I took the young lady back to her sister in the van, and released the younger sister as they grabbed each other. I looked at the older one.

"Do you understand English?"

"Yes, I do." She was shaky but present.

"Okay, you both are now safe. Do you understand me? You are 100% safe. Do you understand?"

The older one nodded yes.

"I have to leave you here for a few minutes to deal with your attacker. Will you be okay waiting here for me for a few moments?"

She nodded yes.

I went to my truck and pulled out some Pampers that I always carry "just in case." They're useful in wiping down a scene. I handed her the package.

"Here. These will help you both clean up." I pointed to the clothes piled in the back of the van. "Get your sister dressed. I'll be back in five minutes with your clothes. Close the door and don't let anyone but me in." and went back to the site to clean it up.

I looked around, deciding what to do. A man no one cared about or was looking for in an area where few went. It wasn't a trailhead or anyplace that someone would normally gravitate to. Relatively easy, but the problem was the van, especially the prints. I decided to make it look like an argument or a hit.

I wanted to leave a message and shot him twice in his junk, scattering his cock and balls in a blast of bits and blood and one in the heart for the fun of it.

I hate fucking rapists and abusers. They all fall into my category of "deserve to be killed."

I picked up her clothes and my shell casing cleared up the shoe prints, and I was done.

I went back to the van. The two girls were in shock but semi-dressed and happy to see me.

"I need to get you to an emergency room, but I'm sorry I can not be involved. I'm going to drive you there and leave you with a friend. Okay?"

They nodded, still in shock but maybe understanding.

"I will get you help."

I called Medea. "Will you meet me at the north entrance to Moab's hospital? Relax, I'm fine, but I need your help. I stopped a rape. Yeah, yeah. You heard me right in about 15 minutes. No, make that 20. Okay?"

I hung up. The girls were as clean and dressed as they could be. I moved them to my truck, kicked over the engine, made a U-turn to head south, and drove a safe distance from the van. Got out, grabbed the jug of extra gas I always carry "just in case," doused the van, ran back to my truck, and fired a shot into the van's gas tank.

I knew that it wouldn't explode in a spectacular van-flipping fireball like you see on television. That's Hollywood fun, but as expected, flames started on the ground under the tank, and I knew the van would be engulfed in flames in a matter of minutes as we started heading down the road.

We heard the explosion about three minutes out.

Chapter 3

We were motoring down the highway as fast as I thought was safe. The last thing I wanted was to be stopped by the cops with two naked, blood-covered Latino girls in my cab and having to try to explain it.

I got safely to the hospital, and thankfully, Medea was there. I filled her in and did the handoff. She would take them into Emergency as a good Samaritan, get them the help they needed, and in her own special way, disappear.

I looked at the girls and said to them in Spanish, "Escúchame. esto es importante," "Listen to me, this is important."

"You don't know me. I was never there. I'm a faceless stranger who helped you, but you don't know anything about me. When they ask you about me, can you say you know nothing? I showed up and saved you, and you don't know what I look like. Can you do that?"

They nodded yes.

"I saved your lives. Can you do this for me?" They nodded yes. I believed them. Thankfully, Medea was waiting. She knew how to take it from here.

We took a moment to discuss everything. "By the way, your package from Dixie's here. I left it in your room."

That was great news. Dixie, what a miracle worker.

I went back to the hotel. A bit shaken, stunned, and emotionally exhausted. I was not going to make Woody's tonight. I needed a few minutes to gather myself and then call Dawn. I looked at the fake IDs from Dixie. Perfect as always, stripped down to my shirt and briefs and laid down on the bed to meditate.

Something I learned in training and do at least once a day. It helps to center me, and at times like this, helps me gather myself and be one.

Twenty minutes later, I called Dawn.

"Hi,"

"Hi."

"Where are you?" I asked.

"Woody's. Where are you?"

"I'm at the hotel. I'm sorry, I'm not going to make it tonight."

"Really! What the fuck! I was basing my day around this!"

I was emotionally exhausted and had nothing to say. "Dawn, I stopped a double-rape out in the desert. Sorry, I'm spent and not in a party mood."

"Oh, my God!!! Jax!!! You did what?"

"I was taking a drive and accidentally came upon a double rape and stopped it. The girls are going to be okay and are now in the Moab hospital.

"But, how, why? I mean, how did this happen?"

"Can we talk about this later? I'm sort of rung out."

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Would you like me to come over?"

I gave it some thought. "Yes, that would be nice. It was unexpected and rough. Better to explain to you here. Sorry to ruin your fun night."

"Are you kidding me?! You stopped two rapes! You are a hero. Give me a half hour and I'll be there."

"Good." And I hung up the phone.

Chapter 4

Dawn was knocking on my door in 20 minutes. I had drifted off a bit and took a moment to shake off the cobwebs. I answered the door in my shirt and briefs.

She was wearing a light sundress. Dawn looked me up and down, lingered for a moment or two at my crotch, and said, "Now that's how to greet a girl at the door!"

She stepped into the room, closed the door, and took me into her arms, giving me a deep loving bear hug with startling emotion and concern. Standing up on her tiptoes, she looked up at me and said, "Are you okay?"

I nodded yes.

"So, hero of the hour, what happened?!"

I told her. Leaving out a few of the more gruesome details like what he actually did to her, my shooting his junk into Kingdom Come, and Medea's participation.

We were sitting on the bed, and she was shaking her head the entire time. Dawn put her hand on my thigh. Not sexually, but reassuringly, and said, "Jax, you really are a hero. I am proud to know you."

"Aww, it was nothing," I said modestly.

She looked at me seriously. "No! It was not nothing. I know. I'm a victim of an attempted rape, and if it hadn't been for a hero like you, I would now be going through my life as a rape survivor, and I know with certainty my life and who I am would be 100% different. I still carry the trauma from the experience, and it is one of the reasons why I'm so shy in public situations."

I turned towards her, took her hand, and said, "Do you want to talk about it? You don't have to if you don't want to, but I'm here with no judgment if you do."

She did.

She started to tell me about her experience in an explosion of words and emotion. The words pouring out of her along with tears.

Last year, an assistant UNC soccer coach had trapped her in the empty locker room after a game. She had lingered because she felt that her on-field performance was sub-par and cost her team the game.

She had dawdled in the shower letting the rest of her teammates leave, and sat alone, in her bra and panties, by her locker, crying and gathering herself. Dawn had lost track of time, but she said it must have been at least a full hour after the game when she heard the noise of metal doors opening.

It was the women's locker room, and she knew the doors had been locked, so she was surprised when he showed up. The coach had always been friendly and actually a good kicking coach, but there was a look in his eye that scared her. She reached for a towel, but he was too fast and dragged her into the privacy of one of the offices ripping off her underwear, pawing at her, and shoving his hands into her privates, slobbering on her breasts, all the time telling her how he loved her, what he was going to do to her, and calling her Denise!

He actually thought he was raping her twin sister Denise! Dawn did everything she could to avoid the attack and was able to hit the fire alarm. That's what saved her. A janitor heard it, came rushing in looking for the fire, saw what was happening, pulled the coach off of her, and beat him to a bloody pulp. The janitor was a big dude and known to workout with the teams on occasion. When he got the chance, the rapist staggered off, and she collapsed into a puddle of fright and despair onto the floor. That's where the first responders found her, in the janitor's arms.

The cops found the coach and threw him into jail, but since it was the South, and after medical treatment and a few days with law enforcement and school personnel, she was talked into "for the good of the school and the women's sports programs," not to place any formal charges. The guy was fired, counseling was provided, and that weekend, Denise cut her hair short. Now they didn't look identical anymore.

The words and the tears came pouring out, and as the story progressed, I pulled her into my chest, enveloped her in my arms, and let her talk and sob until she was done.

It felt as if Dawn had never had the chance to tell her story before and fully release within a safe harbor. I hung in there quietly. Happy to provide what she needed.

When she was done, Dawn stayed nestled in my arms, hugging my wide chest, and sobbed. We sat there, my stroking her hair and giving her the space she needed.

After 10 or 15 minutes, I broke the hug and leaned back to the nightstand for a handful of tissues.

"Here, you need these."

A lot of nose blowing and snotty tissues later, I took Dawn by the hand, led her to the bathroom, turned on the shower, waited until the water was hot, and said, "Take a shower, please. Linger, take your time, wash your hair, refresh yourself, and wash this off of you. You will feel better, and I'll be waiting for you," I pointed out the door to the bedroom, "Out there."

With my hands on her shoulders, I said, "Dawn, you will never comprehend the magnitude of horrors that I have seen humans do to other humans. And I hope that you never, ever do. I have spent my life seeing the very worst that people do to one another. I do not mean in any way to diminish what happened to you. I say that with the hope that you'll understand that I understand what you've went through. I really do understand. I left the bath, closed the door behind me, and laid down on the bed.

Dawn came out washed and refreshed and back in her sundress. She threw her panties on the chair. Tonight, a lavender lace thong.

She walked over to me on the bed, took my briefs off, climbed on, and, raising her dress, straddled me. She looked me in the eye and started rubbing up and down my growing hardon. With her wet inner lips. She leaned in and gave me a deep kiss, then took my now rock hard cock with her hand, positioned it at her pussy, and slowly sunk down, taking my entire 7" inside her, her eyes rolling as I entered her. She gasped with delight when she hit rock bottom.

Her cunt was all the way down on top of me, rolling around slightly and soaking. I mean drenched. Dawn enjoyed my cock for a while with her head back and her eyes closed, grinding her clit into me. I could see her nipple perking up, making pokies against her dress, and she was now centering her weight on her clit, grinding into my pubes.

She leaned back into me with her hands on my chest. "Fuck me, Jax. Make me cum."

I looked at her and said, "Dawn, is this really what you want?"

"I thought you were a smart guy. Will you shut up and fuck me? How many times does a girl have to ask you Yankees? And she ground into me some more.

I reached up, pulled her down, kissed her deeply, and we started to make love.

Her eyes were closed, in a world someplace far away, as she sat on my cock and rocked on it, pleasuring herself however she needed at the moment.

I did nothing but roll my cock along with her following her guidence and holding her hips lightly.

Dawn was in her own world, using me for whatever she required emotionally. I had no idea what it was, but she pounded down, grinding on me, then occasionally leaned forward with her hands on my shoulder pumping and then would sit back up with my huge cock as deep inside her as it could be while she rolled around it, feeling its fullness deep within her, her pussy and clit rubbing upon me, lost in her own thoughts as she used me for her needs.

I let her.

I was in no rush. Somehow, Dawn was reliving her trauma and working it out on my cock. I laid there as she did.

I have no idea how long it was happening. I could have been an hour. More likely, ten to fifteen minutes. Finally, Dawn opened her eyes, impaled by my gigantic cock, and said, "Jax, do you really love me?"

I looked into her eyes and said, "Yes, I do. You are the first and only person I have ever loved."