Bombshell - Riverside Origins Pt. 02

"Oh fuck, you dirty little slut," he moaned, shoving his pants down so he could spread his legs even more.

Miranda sucked one firm orb then the other. She felt a little too eager. His bitter taste and musky scent were flooding her senses, making it impossible to concentrate when she needed to be coming up with a new plan, figuring out how to make him talk. Baker was playing with her hair, pushing it back from her face, gathering it together, as she eagerly slurped and licked his warm sack.

With a firm handle in her hair, Baker guided her lips back to his cock. Miranda opened her mouth to suck him in but as she did his hips bucked up. The head of his dick rushed to the back of her throat and she gagged. Miranda groaned, tried to pull back but he held her in place and fucked her pretty little mouth! She choked and sputtered, and when he eased off to give her a breath, several tears were already streaking mascara down her cheeks.

The dealer let out an excited moan, then pushed her head down again. His hips rocked against her face. Miranda drooled and slurped around his hard dick as it thrust into her throat again and again, faster, deeper each time. Her body convulsed as she gagged miserably.

Baker let go, groaning and chuckling and laid back on the bed.

Miranda sank back on her round little tush, coughing and gasping as spit and precum streamed from her lips. Her chest was burning, her cheeks were bright red with the embarrassment of having her face fucked by the two-bit dealer.

"You definitely, earned your medicine," Baker was saying. "What's you want, slut, crank, blow..?" He rolled over, reaching into the frontless drawer on his dresser. "Goddam I'm a fuck the shit out of you in a minute."

As he shifted, Miranda noticed the gun laying next to his hip on the mattress. Baker was totally distracted, pulling a box of paraphernalia out of the drawer. She didn't give it a second thought and lunged forward, snagging the pistol!

"The fuck you-" Baker began, glancing over. "-doin'?"

Miranda stepped back, spitting out a thick mouthful of precum and saliva, as she lifted the weapon towards him.

"Oh, you stupid, whore," he grunted, shaking his head.

She wiped her lips, glaring at him over the black streaks marring her flushed cheeks. "Now, scumbag, let's talk about Paisley."

Chapter 6

"I knew you wasn't no hooker," Baker growled. "Yo' pussy felt too tight."

"Well, if it seems too good to be true it usually is," Miranda snipped. She tugged her skimpy pink tube top up a bit and pretended not to notice her rock-hard nipples poking out underneath.

"You suck like a fucken pro though-"

"Shut up," she thrust the gun forward. "Now, I came here to find my friend, and I know you know something."

"Ah c'mon, for real?" he groaned. "Why you care about that hookin' bitch-" BANG!

His phone had cycled through a few other songs by then, but now Miranda whipped the gun towards it and blasted it to pieces. Baker jumped, flinching to cover his head. When he looked back at her, she was aiming the gun at him and his hardon was quickly deflating.

"Ah! Fuck...okay," he gasped, holding up his hands defensively. "I was hanging out with that bitch but I ain't seen her in like a week."

"One week? That makes you last person to see her, so where is she?"

"How do I know?" he said quickly. "Fucken whore's probably out working the corner...that's what they do y'know..."

"I've been on the corners, I've checked all the shelters, I already talked to the other girls," Miranda rattled off. "They haven't seen her either, told me she was hanging with you though."

Baker was trying to pull his pants back up. "You can't trust them lying whores-" BANG!

Miranda cut him off by blasting a hole in the mattress right next to him. Baker lurched away in fright, tumbling onto the floor with his pants around his ankles.

"You got a crazy bitch with a gun pointed at you, Baker," she hissed through fine white teeth. "How many more times you gonna lie to her?"

"Alright, fuck, we wuz kicking it," he wailed, cowering away. "See I bugged outta Dub-City last year, she wanted me to help her get out of Riverside."

"She came to you for help?"

"I mean that an' a little bit of that good-good," he shrugged. "We shot up the last of my shit, to take the edge off before she left."

"But she never left, did she?" Miranda took another step forward, pistol leading the way. "Where did you really send her and why?"

"Ah, come on, you know what happens to snitches in these streets?"

Miranda lowered the gun and blew a hole in the floor and the pants stretched between his legs. BANG!

"Okay! FUCK!" he scooted back from the smoking hole and hung his head. "Like I said, she shot up the last of my shit. Since I let her pay in pussy, I needed cash to resupply, so..." He trailed off, almost as if he couldn't find the words.

"So you sold her." Her green eyes hardened, narrowed, her hand tensed around the pistol.

"I mean, it wasn't quite like that," he stammered. "Them boys she been workin' for, they got a hook up buying girls, I just thought they might slip me a finder's fee if I returned some of their merchandise."

"Crash and Suites..." That lying bastard!

Miranda almost hadn't believed it all until just that moment. Maybe she didn't want to believe it. Didn't want to admit it could happen to someone in Riverside, much less her friend.

"Who are they selling to? Where do the girls go?"

"I don't know, I swear!" Baker's eyes flit desperately around the room, searching for any way out. "There's this dude, legit as fuck, collecting bitches, how the fuck do I know what they do with 'em."

"They're not 'bitches' they're people you fucking scumbag!"

"Yeah," Baker slumped against the foot of the bed, tossing his hands in acceptance. "I really am," he sighed, "thought it'd be easy money but-"

"But you talk too goddam much!" growled a deep voice behind her.

Miranda whirled around to find a broad figure filling up the bedroom doorway. Crash snatched the gun right out of her hand and before she could even react his massive fist slammed into the side of her face!

Pain exploded across her cheek and jaw as she sprawled onto the floor.

"The fuck you thinking, Baker-man?" Crash yelled.

"She had a gun..."

Miranda was struggling to get up on her hands and knees when Crash's heavy work boot blasted into her ribs. The force lifted her off the floor, dropping the girl on her side a few feet away. She wheezed desperately for breath as a splitting ache spread through her chest.

"You can't handle some fucken skank with a gun?" Crash was shouting at the dealer. They sounded far away.

Miranda lay on the floor, gasping, trying to stop the room from spinning through force of will. She knew she was in trouble. Without her Nandex uniform she was no match for the vicious thug. Of course, she'd trained to fight since deciding to take on this mission but since he'd caught her off guard, hurt her already, she was in far too vulnerable of a position now to stand any chance.

"The fuck, man?" Baker was whining. "I'm poss'a let the bitch shoot me?"

"Pull your fucken pants up," Crash grunted in disgust. "You ain't supposed to let the bitch get your piece, idiot."

"I was distracted, man, she did this sexy fucken dance, and then sucked me so good I still got bedsheets in my ass..."

The hatch...the crawlspace, Miranda thought dazedly. The beating had actually thrown her closer to the closet. Maybe there's a way out, a window or vent or something!

She glanced back at the two men. Baker was sitting on the bed again. Crash had his back half turned towards her. Miranda started dragging herself towards the closet, slowly. She grimaced, clenching her teeth against the pain shooting across her ribs with every move she made.

"And whachu think the Hammer gon' do he find out you been talkin' man?" Crash said.

Miranda made a mental note: The Hammer.

"You know some superbitch came by Suites's place last night looking for Paisley," Crash went on. "Who the fuck else you been talkin' to?"

"Superbitch?" Baker seemed to perk up. "Like...a superheroine? Who? What's her name?"

"Blue Bird or some shit, man I don't fucken know," Crash groaned. "I clocked that bitch with a beer bottle and she bugged out."

Later Miranda would give great consideration to whether she was angrier that he remembered Holly had called her Blue Bird, or that he left out the thrashing she'd given him. In that moment though, she had made it to the closet and dove through the hatch!

The ground was close, and she slammed into it, the pain in her ribs taking her breath away. She knew she had to keep moving. Glancing around quickly, she saw a rectangle of moonlight beaming through the far wall. It looked so far away to the battered girl in that moment.

In the bedroom the men started yelling.

"Fuck, where'd she-"

"The hatch, man, the crawlspace!"

"Fuckin' get in there!"

Miranda quickly unbuckled and kicked off her stilettos and scrambled towards that patch of light. The air was musty, moldy and dank. The ground was dusty and dirty in some spots, slick and muddy in others and everything was draped in stringy, clingy cobwebs. Behind her someone dropped into the crawlspace. She didn't look back, crawling as fast as her aching body could manage.

"I don't see her!" Baker shouted.

"The fuck you mean? She ain't just disappear!" A gun shot rang out. BANG!

Miranda braced for the hit, smelled the waft of sawdust and gunpowder, but kept moving.

"There she is!" She heard Baker behind her. "She's headed out the back!"

"I'll cut her off!" Crash's heavy work boots clomped across the floor.

Miranda had reached the illuminated square. It was a vent she easily shoved open, and just barely wide enough for her slender frame. Her fishnets snagged and shredded, but she dragged herself through, emerging in front of Baker's house. Covered in grime and dirt, she got to her feet, gasping a few painful breaths. She backed away, looking to see how close behind her Baker had gotten.

"Where you at bitch!" she heard Crash shouting on the other side of the house. There was no sign of the dealer following.

"Morons," she murmured with a slightly triumphant smirk. She didn't waste another second before turning and sprinting down the block.

Miranda ran as fast as she could, despite the rough and unyielding pavement beneath her bare feet. Every stride and breath were agony, her injured ribs made it a struggle just to stay upright. She knew if she stopped though, the two men wouldn't be far behind. She glanced back to check for pursuit. None yet.

Headlights on her right and the blare of a horn consumed her entire world!

Miranda froze like a doe, for just a second, then threw herself backwards as tires screamed angrily. She landed on her ass in the street with a grunt, too alarmed to cry out either in terror or the agony of her landing. The smell of hot rubber wafted past her nose. She heard two doors open but couldn't see anything as she was fully immersed in the blinding glare of the headlights.

"Hey! Are you crazy? What the hell-!?" shouted one voice.

Miranda squinted, grimacing as she struggled just to sit up. "Yeah, I'm fine, thanks."

A dark figure moved through the blazing lights, reaching down and extending a hand.

"Pardon my driver, miss," said a voice that froze the blood in her veins. "Are you oka- Miranda?"

She winced, shutting her eyes and desperately wishing she was back in Baker's crawlspace.

"Hello, Donovan."

To Be Continued...