Blinded by the Sight Ch. 02

I was feeling fairly well healed up from the two bullet wounds when I got hauled before the fucking Judge. Hell, I knew my ass was grass, so I hung my head in shame as he read off the long list of charges and asked me how I wanted to plead.

Shit, they had me cold, I had the money from the goddam bank, there must have been a dozen fucking Cops there when I ran out of places to go.

Good thing they were piss poor shots or my ass would be dead, as it was they fucked me up pretty good.

"Guilty, your Honor, Sir." I said, looking up at him and speaking as clearly as I could.

"Twenty years!" he looked at me in scorn and banged the gavel, then got up and left.

Just fuck! I vowed next time they wouldn't take me alive, as the two fat goons they called gaurds hauled me off.

I was hoping for one of the nice country club prisons but sure as fucking hell I got one with stacks of cells, noisy, dirty, cold, just a fucking miserable hellhole. The staff were pricks, too, they delighted in yelling at us and finding some reason to show us how tough they were.

Keep us all in control, I guess.

I kept my mouth shut, did what I was told.

It was 18 months later they led me out the door and handed me $20, the cheap clothes I had on and that $20 were it. They hauled me off to a little halfway house, the skinny black P/O gave me a talk. He sure had a lot of fucking rules.

They next day I was taken to my new job as a mechanic, I expected it to be a shitty little rathole place but I was surprised to walk in and find a large well lit shop clean as a whistle and quality equipment everywhere.

I got introduced to Jim, the owner. He was a big fucker, his hands were so thick I didn't see how he could even work his fingers, his grip was like steel. He put me to work taking apart engines, something I knew exactly how to do.

I worked hard, too. I made damn good and sure that I was standing there waiting for him when he arrived, without fail. I skipped breaks, ate my lunch in 30 minutes instead of taking the full hour, and then back at it. The fact is, I liked what I was doing, some of it was special high performance stuff.

In just a couple of months Jim figured out that I knew what to do, next thing I know I am porting heads and putting in special valves, things like that and he took me off the government pays half of my wages shit and put me on a full payroll.

One day I spotted a beat up old Plymouth Duster for sale, I had the three hunded bucks saved so I bought it. Jim let me drag it back with the shop tow truck and park it out back.

I had the little V-8 engine out and apart in no time. I used the shop equipment to bore it out and square everything up, then I started buying up parts as I could afford to.

Jim was paying me fairly well but I knew it was going to take me ten years at the rate things were going. So I asked Jim for a day off, told him a cock and bull story about my Aunt Ellen passing away, hell, I even managed to squeeze a little tear out of one eye.

He handed me the keys to one of the shop vans, and I drove off.

I was a couple hundred miles away when I drove the van down a little dirt road and parked. I walked the couple of miles to a store parking lot, waited until a little old lady and a younger guy pulled in. As soon as they were inside the store, I was inside their car and gone.

I pulled in behind a Credit Union that I knew of, parked.

I was in and out in 5 minutes, back to the van in another 5, hiding the piece of shit car in some bushes. The fat lady had smiled at me when I sat down, then her eyes widened as I leaned forward and quietly told her to hand over the fucking money or I would kill her and everyone in sight and take the fucking money anyway.

She just reached in the drawer and handed it over, her hands shaking in fear as she did it.

Out on the freeway, I peeled off the fake moustache and goatee, then wiped the dark coloring off my face and neck with some damp towels. I drove right on by the town where I worked, then turned off the freeway and took the side road back to the shop.

I waited a couple of months before I started spending some of the money, telling Jim a few small details about the inheritence I got from my poor Aunt Ellen.

It was about a year later when I started the Duster up and drove it for the first time. The engine was quiet, no hint of what she could do.

Jim told me I could have my choice of tires and wheels as a bonus for working so hard. He did look at me oddly when I bolted on a set of heavy duty steel ones, and some nice wide performance radials. I carefully cut off the raised white lettering and used some blacking to cover the marks.

I am sure he expected me to go for the fancy mag wheels but I didn't want any standout parts on my machine.

He looked at me oddly again when I used the paint shop to spray the car with a non-descript off white color. This little bitch was a true sleeper, nearly 500 horsepower under the hood, heavy duty suspension and tires. Yet it looked just like some old lady's grocery getter, the kind of car you might pass every day and not even know the make.

I installed the Nitrous system one weekend when no one was around, hiding the bottle in the driver's compartment under the dash.

I was ready.

The skinny fucking black probation officer almost never came around anymore. Hell, it had been nearly 3 years by this time and I looked so squeaky clean that I am sure he had me written down as his greatest success. So I could come and go pretty much as I pleased.

It didn't take me long to find some prick who had a few extra firearms for sale, I selected a solid .357 and handed over the 2 grand price he wanted. Outrageous but I couldn't exactly go to the gun shop and hand them my driver's license.

Yea, I was ready.

Two days later, I was in Mexico.

Within a month, I was shacked up with this little senorita named Teresa that delighted in my giving her a few pesos to buy some pretty blouses and things like that. I mostly sat around and read the news reports about the "Black Bandito" that had hit several banks and jewelry stores in Texas and New Mexico. I always had a laugh at that.

They even posted the pictures in the paper, hell, I didn't fucking recognize myself.

Life was pretty good.

Then one day I was walking by the little cantina in the town, I liked the place because they had outside tables and chairs, customers could sit outside and sip some beer and relax. There was a woman sitting there, she had a familiar look. I almost went on by, then it hit me!

It was Betty, the fucking bitch that had turned me in and got me shot a few years before. Hell, I was sure of it, so I circled back to take another look. Yes, it was her.

She was sitting by herself sipping what looked to be some kind of wine. She looked up at me blankly when I sat down, started to say something, then her eyes widened in shock.

"You owe me fifty grand." I told her.

"Dan...When..? How? When did you get out?" she was rattled.

"I got paroled, where is my money?" I demanded.

"Dan, that is all....it's gone."

"Well, you owe me." I was angry, a bit out of control. I should have just taken off, vanished.

"Come on!" I stood up.

"What?..No, I am waiting for..I am married."

That did it, somehow made it worse. I reached out and grabbed her hand, jerked her to her feet.

Scared the piss out of her, I bet.

She came along easily, maybe partly because I had ahold of her wrist and I wasn't being gentle.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, putting up a small struggle.

"I am going to fuck 50 grand off of your hide!"

"I..no, please!..I am married.."

Then she gave up. I dragged her down the street to my car, shoved her inside. I knew she would get nowhere calling the local cops, I owned all of them.

Back at my little house, I parked the car and dragged her inside. Teresa was there, she just looked at Betty, then at me and shrugged. I handed her a wad of cash and told her to beat it, she did.

Betty had a worried look on her face she was trying to hide by giving me a solid stare, that didn't work. I shoved her back across the bed and began to strip her, not saying a word. She pushed back at my hands a couple of times but then she gave up, I had her naked in no time.

I looked her up and down, she had found about 5 pounds somewhere but she still looked good. But I was pissed off at her, I dropped my pants and shoved her legs open. She didn't even resist, I was on her and inside her in seconds.

I pounded at her, trying to make it hurt, the fucking bitch tensed for just a few seconds and then started to like it. She was squealing and mashing her cunt at me like a mad woman, I had to hang on to keep from getting dumped off.

Hell, we went at it for a solid 30 minutes.

Later I told her that she would be coming by several times each week from now on. She looked down, but nodded.

Teresa didn't give a shit, as long as I kept her in pesos she would do anything I told her. A couple of times I had them both down on the bed and hosed both of them. I never did see the so-called husband, I wasn't even sure if there was one and I didn't give a fuck, either.

That went on for a couple of months.

One day I counted out and I was down to under 5 grand, time to do some work. So I told Teresa I was going to take a trip, she was used to that anyway.

I got in the Duster and took off, headed for a little bank in Texas. I knew the round trip would take about 4 days, I figured the place was good for 20 grand, maybe more, at least.

I was right, it was just under 30 grand. I was feeling pretty slick by the time I got to the little border motel I used to hole up in after a job. The next afternoon I was back at my house.

I walked in and looked around, no one in sight. Then I heard some noises, I set my bag down on the table, pulled the .357 and walked into the back. I put the thing away when I realized it was Betty and Teresa, locked in an embrace like most men have only dreamed of seeing.

Bit of a surprise, but what the fuck. I joined in, why not? One hell of an exhausting session, too. Then I dozed off, waking up later and realizing it was dark outside.

The three of us settled into a pattern, sex and more sex, I have to admit it was fun. We seemed to become a trio, content.

Then one weekend Betty and Teresa asked me to run them across the border to do some shopping, I wasn't in the mood for the hundred mile run and told them so. But they went into that whining and female manipulating shit until I finally agreed to take them.

The drive was fun, the day was hot. Both of them took off their tops as we drove along, tits bouncing as I found a long straight stretch and rolled the Duster up to around 130 or so before backing off. That got squeals of delight from them, it was a ball.

I pulled into the shopping center parking lot, killed the engine. Teresa hopped out, Betty right behind.

I watched them wiggle their asses as they headed towards the shopping center doors, holding hands and giggling.

Holding hands...I leaned back, reached for a smoke, pushed the button to heat the lighter.

"FREEZE, MOTHERFUCKER!!"

I started, looked around, a Cop stood there pointing a gun at me.

Suddenly there were lots of Cops.

They dragged me out of the car, handcuffed me on the ground, then jerked me back to my feet. The last thing I saw as they loaded me into a police van was Becky and Teresa, standing about 50 feet away.

Holding hands.