Bad M.I.L.F Vol. 04 - The New Batch Ch. 04

"What do you mean? I want my fucking life back the way it was without all this crazy shit and..."

"Gen?"

"Maybe, but I don't deserve her; fuck, we just met a little while ago and it's over before it could've ever begun."

"Then why'd I fix you up?"

"Huh?" I glanced over finding Malaya holding onto the doorframe using it to remain upright. The extra-large t-shirt hung loose on her body with some minute blotches of blood on her back.

"I thought you two would look cute together; lord knows Gen needed a good fuck, but all this McIntyre shit got in the way after I fixed you up with Dean Brennan."

"Why the fuck did you fix me up with Dean Brennan, then?"

"Hold it up stud, I needed access to her office, besides you'd already fucked her anyway. How was I supposed to know she'd take that non-disclosure shit, seriously? Courtney ragged her out to her bitch mother and that was all she wrote. Dean Brennan needed a serious fuck after that tongue lashing from her daughter about being a hypocrite. Catherine supposedly fucked her life up for getting some black cock back in the day."

"Sent Carry Anne away for fucking the handy man, and you saw an opportunity to manipulate somebody, huh?"

"Sure as fuck I did, you still fucked her again, so don't piss on my dick, brother. It's work, that's all it is for me; a fucking job that has to be done. Did you ever stop to consider that she knew what was going to happen to you all along and stood by and did nothing? That Ms. Frakkes bitch was even staying at her house!! Are you going to stay perpetually color struck or are you gonna get a fucking clue?!!" Malaya continued peeling back the layers of my complicated situation like leaves on an artichoke. She suddenly dropped down on her butt, hard. It was almost like somebody had pulled a plug out of her.

"Hey, you okay?"

"Hey gotta take a times out brother, help me into the tub. Come on, I'm not trying anything man, just fucking help me, please." I was somewhat leery, but still helped her into the bathroom, sitting her on the toilet.

"Run me some water, please." I found myself in Gen's role, running some lukewarm water into the tub before finding that Malaya had lifted the seat. We exchanged glances for a second before I looked away nervous. She yelped alerting me as I found her leaning back against the seat head pointed towards the ceiling, breathing hard.

"We're fucked up." I commented remembering the beating we'd both taken from April and Chrystal.

"Help me into the tub and leave me alone for a couple of hours." She looked sickly, almost vulnerable light as a feather as I lifted her, setting her in the water. She peeled off the shirt revealing some bruising and shallow cuts on her back. The t-shirt was stained with little droplets of blood. I noticed some blood intermingling with the water which emanated from her sex.

"Fuck, Malaya." My eye caught her bruised breast again.

"You care, I'm touched, really; come on, go kick rocks, bright eyes." I started to walk out but made the mistake of noticing some washers, ball bearings and other items inside the toilet. I turned around facing Malaya, conflicted.

"Yeah buddy, they were working me over for hours; imagine all that inside you while some fat cunt uses a large vibrator on your clit. Look I appreciate that you wanna white knight me even though you know I deserved it on some level, but I really need a little privacy to get it together." I closed the door behind me, honoring her wishes. Some pained gasps and whines followed me out.

I was in with both feet, something had to be done about all the trouble the McIntyre's caused and she was the only one who could take care of things. I recalled my first meeting with Ms. Frakkes and how she'd had the CCTV cameras turned off inside the interrogation room at the police station, her relative ease in dealing with April and how she casually watched me being beaten with a bat. Her attitude went beyond intitled with her younger sister Chrystal at the other end of the spectrum. My ex-girlfriend was unstable and dangerous, criminal minded and now, murderous. I'd refused to give her what she wanted, and it had driven her over the edge. Chrystal was now determined to destroy me for that denial, more than any of the other women I'd slept with in her family. Carry Anne had irreparably damaged her daughter by taking her on a trip she deemed necessary for the young girl to become a woman igniting a never ending rivalry. I guess I was supposed to break her never ending losing streak to her mother but failed none the less.

"Hey, I need some help back here!!" Malaya called out from the bathroom. I found her still soaking in the tub. There were a large number of stained towels on the tiled floor. She was reclining looking at me through half open eyes. I would've thought her asleep if she hadn't called out to me.

"There's a tote bag in the living room, get it for me." I retrieved the bag from the living room returning it to Malaya. I was lost, unable to find some familiar ground finding her sitting on the edge of the tub wrapped in the last towel. I set the bag down at her feet not knowing what to expect as she kneeled unzipping it to produce a smaller bag containing her makeup. She placed this on the edge of the sink along with a thick roll of gauze and some square padding of similar material. Malaya covered her damaged breast with the padding, tapping it to her skin before regarding me.

"Can you help me with this gauze, I can't do it by myself." I helped her use the roll, wrapping it around both breasts as she adjusted it slimming it down before motioning towards a nude colored sports bra in the tote. She winced as she covered the gauze padding, adjusting it so that it was hidden under the material. Next, she removed some Vaseline prodding me into covering the shallow cuts on her back.

"Maybe you should see a doctor."

"Not in this town, maybe later; get that little black bag for me, cutie." This turned out to be another makeup kit. Its interior contained some flesh colored base that she began applying to the bruises on her abdomen and thighs, perfectly blending it with her own light, olive tone.

"They messed you up."

"They didn't do shit; just got my attention and they will regret it." She opened the other kit, applying makeup to her face erasing the evidence of her capture. I watched her become the person I'd met outside of Dean Brennan's office. She applied some darkened crimson lipstick, glancing over at me.

"What?" Malaya gave me a light peck on the lips that was more friendly than anything else.

"You're really a good guy, I'll make sure you're okay when this is over. I wish that I'd just fixed you up with Gen and left it at that, but I had to follow my nature; you didn't deserve that and I'm sorry, okay?"

"Yeah, sure." She leaned against the counter examining my face before retrieving a small case containing a spare set of horn-rimmed glasses.

"Picture perfect, right?"

"Sure."

"Gonna watch me finish getting dressed or are you waiting outside; I mean unfortunately I'm going to be on the bench for a while, sexually speaking. I won't rule out a blowjob if it will make you feel better."

"I'm going."

"Hey, party favors." She tossed me an android phone.

"What's this?"

"It's yours, I cloned it a while back; don't judge." Malaya was already pulling some black Adidas tights over her muscular legs with great effort. I left her alone finding all of my information intact on my phone along with a large number of messages. There were at least a hundred from Chrystal that I had no interest in answering. I accidentally activated a message attached to one message finding a simple video of Chrystal's face in extreme closeup. She was visibly shaken, crying as mascara ran down her face making her look as crazy as she was on the inside. She appeared to be inside a bathroom sitting down. A series of loud knocks on the door interrupted whatever she was thinking of saying or confessing. I got curious scrolling through some of the other unfamiliar numbers before clicking on another.

"Hey man, you'd better have the money or we gonna get it fixed; ya hear dawg?!! DON'T FUCK IT UP AGAIN, MA' NIGGA!! PICK UP!! PICK UP!! WE WANT OUR MONEY DAWG!!" The hard, raspy voice on the other end of the line was completely alien to me. I had no idea who he was or what he was talking about. Ms. Frakkes seemed to be covering her trail in case I hadn't made it out of that building alive during the shootout.

"Fucking bitch."

"What's up; listening to those alibi messages, huh?" Malaya walked into Gen's living room with a large hoodie draped over her arm and a pair of black sneakers in the other, sitting down in front of me.

"Alibi messages?"

"Yeah, idea is you get somebody to call the victim's phone leaving threatening messages from a burner phone for the cops to find later during the investigation. This is done just prior to either kidnapping or killing the target to muddy the waters; so, you definitely weren't making it out of there even before they bagged you."

"Fuck."

Malaya slipped on some crew socks as I noticed one of her big toes had a stripped away toenail. She noticed me looking turning away from me to slip on the sneakers. I scrolled through my phone finding at least two more "alibi messages" and a twerking video that Courtney McIntyre sent sometime after I'd left the Brennan estate. Malaya had this phone for an extended period of time making me wonder the "mischief" it had been used for behind my back.

"Pretty shitty, huh brother?"

"I never would've though in a million years that it would end of like this. I met Chrystal at a fucking campus party, we lived together and talked about marriage for fuck's sake."

"Regretting that big fat ass of hers? You regretting all of the top flight pussy you've received from that one initial hookup? That is what I've been talking about this whole fucking time; that Butterfly Effect.

Thinking perhaps that if you'd just stuck with the girl you arrived with or went home with anyone else, none of this would've happened to you?"

"She tried to beat me to death with a fucking bat!"

"Makes you wonder about her upbringing, huh?" Malaya slipped the hoodie over her head completing a transformation back to some semblance of a normal appearance.

"Well...yeah, now that you mention it."

"Why don't you ask them, her parents I mean."

"Yeah right, you're joking about that shit, right?"

"No."

"Hello, toxic fucking relationship on all sides, Malaya! Carry Anne started all this shit in the first place because I didn't want to be her boy toy!!"

"Calm-the-fuck down, I wasn't talking about queen pawg; maybe you could address the situation with her husband, Robert McIntyre." Malaya tied her hair off into a simple ponytail.

"Hey girl, give me some of that shit you were smoking in Gen's bathroom. Robert McIntyre is a fucking cuck to the hundredth degree. His wife literally duck taped that motherfucker to a dolly and locked his ass in their bedroom closet so that he could see us having a threesome with his daughter!"

"Sounds hot."

"Sounds fucked up."

"I'm serious, let's just open a dialogue." I realized she was serious, but I knew something she didn't.

"Well, he's cutting some business deal out of town; so we can't talk to him anyway."

"So, that's a no, huh?"

"Did you not hear me; he's out of town anyway, probably on that business deal you're trying to disrupt.

Even if I wanted to, he's not available Malaya."

"I bet you a thousand dollars, he is available." She reached down on the side of Gen's loveseat retrieving a half motorcycle helmet.

"He's not available, Malaya."

"Pussy."

"Alright, thousand dollars, bitch." She retrieved my helmet from the same side of spiking it into my gut.

*************************************************************************************

"You owe me a thousand dollars." Malaya quipped as we watched Mr. McIntyre walk out of a hotel conference room with a phalanx of other suits. I noticed all of them were either Caucasian or Asian lending credence to the story presented by Malaya of some corporate fuckery.

"Great, another debt I can't pay."

"Don't worry about it rube, we'll settle up later." I remained sitting on the bench in the corridor as she bounced over tapping Mr. McIntyre on the shoulder. I watched them exchange pleasantries for a few seconds before he looked in my direction panicked. He waved at some of his associates watching as they walked down the corridor before approaching me.

"What are you doing here? You shouldn't be here; what if my wife finds out?" The elder McIntyre and supposed patriarch of their family was whispering as if someone were listening and this was not lost on me.

"You don't know your fucking wife is making my life a living hell since I left that weekend?" He looked sickly and overly anxious at the mention of Carry Anne.

"Look that's got nothing to do with me; take it up with her." He was still whispering as Malaya stood off to the side taking in everything.

"Really, you're just gonna bury your head in the sand?"

"Look. I'm really busy right now; this stuff you're talking about is going to have to wait until I close this deal. I thought you broke up with my daughter; why're you still hanging around?"

"Yeah, I dumped her for lying to me and helping Carry Anne turn me into a sex toy. But your wife and daughter aren't through with me, sir! They even brought in your other daughter, Ms. Frakkes!!"

"Karen is here helping me close an important deal; this is REALLY IMPORTANT!! I've been working on it since you were at my house that weekend." He was definitely getting antsy as our budding argument began to bloom.

"Yet you weren't too busy to watch me SCREW your WIFE and DAUGHTER!!"

"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!!" I struck a nerve as Malaya closed the distance between us pushing her thick glasses up on her nose.

"Let's keep our heads gentlemen."

"Who are you again?"

"Malaya Padilla, I'm involved." He shook his head trying to make sense of her answer, but I wasn't finished.

"Why don't you take some fucking control of your life for once!"

"HEY PAL!!" We jostled, but Malaya intervened again wrapping her arms around his torso moving a few steps back. Mr. McIntyre gave her an annoyed look, between mad dogging me like he wanted to box.

"Are the rumors true that you made your wife hide her love child away so that you could keep up appearances among the rich elite. Did you think having an illegitimate child around would hamper your career?!! ARE YOU A BIGOT, ROBERT MCINTYRE!!"

"What, NO!! UHM, WHO ARE YOU AGAIN?!!" Malaya's needling had got to him again as she pressed into his chest with an accusatory finger.

"Malaya Padilla, didn't you hear me the first time?"

"You know his fucking daughter tried to BUY ME, like a SLAVE; on several occasions this past few days!!" I caught on to the game doing my part to disorient the McIntyre patriarch.

"Is that really TRUE, MR. ROBERT MCINTYRE?!! Is your daughter and corporate attaché, KAREN FRAKKES, a WHITE SLAVER?!!"

"More like a black slaver if you ask me." I added plainly with a shrug of my shoulders as Malaya glanced over almost laughing in his face. She has a fistful of Robert's jacket sleeve kind of yanking and shoving the agitated man.

"YOU A REPORTER OR SOMETHING, LADY?!!"

"I'm a seeker of the truth; does MTH Corp. know your daughter makes NASTY ASS, SEX TAPES with BLACK GUY RAPPERS?!! Does Japan APPROVE of Chrystal McIntyre? She's your daughter, didn't you RAISE her RIGHT while you were FORCING YOUR WIFE to IGNORE HER HALF-BLACK LOVE CHILD?!!"

"LADY, WHO ARE YOU?!!"

"Malaya Padilla, she said it two times already, Bob." I shrugged again as he tried to pry her hand away from his sleeve.

"ANSWER THE QUESTION, BOB!! WHY DID YOUR DAUGHTER VANDALIZE A STATUE ON CAMPUS WHILE VISITING HER SISTER WHO WAS OFF SLEEPING WITH BIG, BLACK GANGSTUHS, HUH DICK?!!"

"Yeah, you kept asking me if I was GAY; but I said NO!! Asked me more than one time but I don't go that way, sir. Besides, I was sleeping with your daughters...and your WIFE!!"

"YOU-FUCKING NIG-UH, BASTARD!!"

"OH WOW!! You were going to say the N-Word, weren't you?" It almost looked like they were doing this sort of comical waltz as they struggled with one another.

"NOOOOOO!!"

"MTH Corp does business with BIGOTS!! YOU TEACH YOUR KIDS THAT HATRED?!!" Malaya pressed in further almost looking like she were going to kiss him. I found myself light on my feet unintentionally matching their movements.

"GET OFF!!"

"Explains everything; you know, your daughter BEAT ME with a SOFTBALL BAT!!" I added for good measure.

"YUH-YOU DESERVED IT!! GET OFF ME YOU UH-!!"

"Oh, you were gonna call me a fucking slope or something? WOULD IT BE BETTER IF YOUR HALF-BLACK DAUGHTER was part ASIAN, or do you HATE all NON-WHITE ETHNICITIES? WHAT ABOUT CAPRI JOHNSON -CAPRI JOHNSON?!!" Malaya pressed him for answers to her rapid fire barrage of questions.

"THAT'S MY WIFE'S MISTAKE, HER BUSINESS WITH-THAT PERSON, FUCK YOU!!" Robert McIntyre punctuated his statement shoving Malaya on her butt stalking off down the corridor. She was already laughing heartily at her ploy. She motioned for me to help her up and when I did, she shoved an elbow into my chest before hitting an adjacent exit. I followed her out worried that Mr. McIntyre was calling security or the cops. I barely caught up to her two blocks down. Malaya was staring at a phone.

"What'd you steal?" She smiled removing her glasses tossing them to me.

"Cloned his phone and recorded the whole conversation. Imagine what a little creative editing and social media will do to that fucking deal now?" She had been wearing surveillance glasses while she was lambasting Robert McIntyre.

"What now?" I asked not knowing what was next on her list. As we stood there on the sidewalk near my parked bike, an old Chevy Nova pulled up beside us with Hacker Pete behind the wheel. Malaya walked over bending over into the open window for a few seconds, returning with a greasy looking paper bag in her hand which she shoved into my abdomen. Pete cut out once the light turned green like his life depended on it or something. I was apprehensive.

"We pick a fight."

*************************************************************************************

The wharf was a popular tourist area filled to capacity with townies, tourists and others desperately trying to make a living in a city whose middleclass was fast disappearing. I'd actually interviewed for a few just above minimum wage jobs a year prior. Nothing ever materialized and I was glad because I'd secured a convenient side job doing clerk work at an office building. I navigated the throngs of human traffic continually looking over my shoulder for any sign of hired help or the private goon squad employed by Ms. Frakkes. The Bluetooth in my ear was uncomfortable and intrusive, but I considered it a life line in case something dangerous happened. I didn't trust Malaya, but I didn't have any choice at the moment finally approaching the old bayside restaurant where the supposed endgame was to begin.

"Hey, I'm going to need you to put on your big man pants; you look like you're walking the gallows even from where I'm sitting." Malaya's filled my ear in a faux conscious kind of way. She was almost like a tiny devil's advocate sitting on my right shoulder.

"Where are you anyway?"

"Sitting on your bike; watching you with my phone, babe. You need to find a way to stop looking so fucking scared or you're going to get made."

"I am scared, I'm close to pissing myself."

"We'll get you a diaper later; you need to fake it some kind of way. You still have the package, right?" She was referring to the slightly greasy paper bag I'd been coerced into giving to one of our mutual adversaries for lack of a better term.