Lauren Starr's Last Stand Ch. 02

"New girl," Loretta said. "Showed up late last night. Hasn't worked a john yet though. Think she's a little shy." The brush caught a knot, and Loretta worked it out, her hair pulling sharply against her skull.

"Bring her in here. She's going to join us tonight," Cross said, daring her to disobey him. His eyes burned with an internal fire; Loretta knew that even if she wanted to disagree that would only bring pain. Besides, the new girl might prove to be more than a little fun. Loretta had no qualms with women in her bed; sometimes she preferred it. But she didn't want Cross hurting or scarring the girl her first time on the job.

"Don't break her in too rough," Loretta warned, her lips curling up into a devious grin. Her eyes locked onto Cross's, those shimmering pools of blue radiance surrounding his inky pupils, in the reflection of the mirror. Eyes that sent a chill up her spine.

"Just shut up, and bring her in," Cross said, his face grave.

***

Lauren Starr figured the horse would fetch a fair price in town, and no doubt, someone from Cross's gang would recognize it. And if someone did, they might lead Christian right to her. Which was exactly what Lauren wanted.

A large barn close to the middle of town caught her eye. A little behind the buildings around it, somewhat shrouded in the shadows of the midday sun, it was the kind of place where one could do business without unwanted eyes and ears overseeing or overhearing transactions. In other words, the perfect place for those who didn't want their presence announced throughout town to store horses and materials that might catch the discerning eye of a half-intelligent sheriff, or worse, marshall.

Lauren led the horse while sitting tall on her own, scanning the area with experienced eyes, calculating the possibilities of hiding spots and perches and angles that might become helpful if the proper situations presented themselves. One could never be too careful when one dealt in the business of revenge.

***

The girl had long, jet black hair and rich, deep brown eyes, eyes that were wide and anxious like those of curious deer. Loretta led her in by the arm and ran the fingers of her free hand through the girl's dark, luxurious hair. The girl stiffened upon seeing Cross with his cock out, his erection already freed from the confines of his jeans and sticking up towards the ceiling like the horn of an angry bull.

"Ain't you ever seen a hard cock before?" Loretta cooed into the girl's ear, and her tongue whipped out and flicked the girl's earlobe, sending a shiver down the pretty babe's spine.

"HAVEN'T you ever seen a hard cock before, is the correct way of saying it, you ignorant whore," Cross corrected, raising an eyebrow. He moved his attention towards the new girl, and asked, "What's your name?"

Loretta frowned at him, wondering what kind of game Cross had set upon the chess board. Was he trying to make her jealous by bringing this girl into her room and belittling Loretta in front of her? She was sure Christian Cross enjoyed this battle of wits he seemed to have to wage against her, but she would not let him break her. She would prove to be harder than any other woman Cross had ever known. Harder, perhaps, than Cross even.

The girl's doe-like eyes focused on Cross's straining pink penis; she licked her lips and said, "Name's Ashlee. And I seen a cock before. Just not... one so big."

Cross tipped his head back and uttered a loud, guttural laugh. Loretta felt the girl jump slightly in her arms at the intensity of it.

"I bet you say that to all the boys, Ashlee. Don't you?" Cross said through fading barks of laughter. A wolf's grin split his lips over a set of gleaming white teeth, and Loretta felt her heart skip a beat in her chest as she thought about how much she would like him to devour her.

"First time I ever meant it," Ashlee replied, her youthful voice gaining a bit more confidence. She straightened up and placed a finger on her face, coyly running it across her lips and then slipping it into her mouth. Loretta giggled and gave her a slight kiss on the neck. She was impressed with the girl for not allowing Cross to intimidate her.

Cross looked the girl over a bit more closely. She was thin but curved in all the right places. Her breasts were not large but quite pert; milky and smooth, they bulged dangerously in her white corset. Her ass was round and taut, mouthwateringly so. She had the face of a wounded angel, beautiful and yet haunted by ghosts only the young girl knew and would never discuss.

A good selection to toy with, if only for Loretta's benefit. Cross had to show the blonde whore that she was not the only woman he desired and would have to continue to work for his affections. And what way would prove to be more fun?

"Come over and suck on it," Cross invited. He beckoned her over with one hand like an emperor sitting on his golden throne beckoning a serving girl to bring more wine.

Ashlee walked over slowly, Loretta at her side with one arm around her waist, and the young dark-haired girl bent over to get a closer examination of Cross's member, wondering desperately how she was going to get all of it into her mouth.

"Let me show you how," Loretta offered, whispering into Ashlee's ear, guiding the girl's hand over Cross's engorged shaft. Cross gasped as Ashlee's slim fingers closed upon his throbbing flesh, sweet tingles scurrying up through his spine.

Ashlee watched in awe as Loretta slipped the cock into her mouth as Ashlee slowly stroked the hot cock with her hand. Loretta took more and more of the cock so deep into the recesses of her throat that Ashlee could barely believe it. She knew that she did not have that kind of ability. Instead, she watched longingly as Loretta nearly took Cross's cock into her throat all the way down to his balls. Intent on doing what she could to help, Ashlee's tongue flicked out and lapped at the underside of Cross's prone nut sack.

A low sigh escaped from his mouth. It had been some time since two women had simultaneously gone down on him, one of the failings of living a life on the lam. He closed his eyes and let the pleasure wash over him as Loretta engulfed the majority of his cock, her tongue quivering over his girth, and the younger girl, Ashlee, licked his balls with her wet, pink tongue while stroking him into Loretta's mouth.

Saliva dripped from Loretta's lips onto Ashlee's hand, helping to lubricate as Ashlee stroked the long, thick shaft. Ashlee peered at Loretta with her deep brown eyes, and Loretta caught her gaze and held it. Loretta thought about the last time she had tasted a woman's cream and hoped Ashlee's would taste as sweet; Loretta was almost positive it would. She had a feeling that she would remember this night for a long, long time.

Ashlee thought that Loretta looked worn and experienced and beautiful; her pale blue eyes spoke of horrors and knowledge that only a whore would know. Ashlee envied and desired this for reasons she could not comprehend.

***

A man with thinning white hair and squinty eyes peered over the horse with thorough eyes. His expression refused to betray his thoughts, but Lauren could tell that the man recognized the horse as the one belonging to Biggie Dawkins, the member of Christian Cross's gang killed the day before. Lauren knew this because she recognized the horse in the next stall as the very own of Christian Cross.

Lauren thought about killing Dawkins, knife in hand, and the sight of red spraying from Dawkins' throat as his life jetted away with each passing beat of his suddenly-traitorous heart. The memory was not an unpleasant one.

"A healthy steed, no doubt, miss. Though you understand that this ain't whatcha'd call a rich town. Can't offer you what some others might," the man said in a throaty drawl.

"Maybe you know someone who'd like to take it off my hands. For a fair price, of course," Lauren said, petting the horse's mane.

"I just might," the old man said, his jaw drawing tight. Lauren didn't miss the underlying message of the expression. The old man knew what was coming. He had no choice but to tell Cross and his gang about the woman with Dawkins' horse, or he would suffer the consequences. Blood would be spilled this day. She looked forward to it.

"Perhaps you could go fetch him for me," she said, her voice cold. The old man regarded her for a moment, soaking in the woman's appearance, her fair skin and dark reddish hair, and he wondered what could have turned the blood in her veins to ice. Surely, there must be something of the girl she once was inside of her. He didn't feel right leading such a pretty lamb to the slaughter.

"Why don't you sleep on it? This here's a fine horse, and maybe you shouldn't be so quick to give 'im away. If you'd still like to sell tomorrow..."

"Now is fine," Lauren cut the old man off with a harsh voice. She wasn't afraid of Cross and his ruffians, and the old man's attempt to dissuade her was a futile effort.

The old man stammered for a moment, his arms shaking with age. For a moment, Lauren felt her heart ache for him and hoped that he would not be among the dead when the smoke cleared. She understood that he was trying to help her, but the last thing she needed was help. The only thing that could save her now was the corpse of Christian Cross.

"Just get him for me, please," she said softly. The old man nodded.

After all, it was HER funeral, he thought before shuffling away.

***

Cross worked his way into Ashlee's unbearably tight pussy slowly but surely, reminding himself that the tortoise always won the race. Or in this instance, got off the hardest. Loretta sat on the young girl's face, facing Cross, holding his head with her hands and leaning in to kiss him on the lips while Ashlee pleasured her with tongue and hands from below. Cross had forgotten what fun he used to have with multiple women before he'd become such a wanted man but still notorious enough to have all the bad girls lust after him.

He worked his cock inside of her, filling her up, feeling himself stretch her from the inside. She was so wet and warm and young, but he still hungered to be inside of Loretta more than ever. However, he couldn't let the blonde whore know this, or the entire point of the present experience would be lost.

He pulled back a bit before thrusting even deeper, and he become lost for an instant in the sensation of Ashlee's female desire. Loretta kissed him passionately, and he kissed her back. Using the girl for common pleasure only seemed to make them want each other more. Still, Cross figured they should utilize Ashlee while they had the chance.

Ashlee's slim thighs clapped against him; her toned stomach rippled with each of Cross's thrusts into her. She moaned deeply into Loretta's pussy, her tongue lapping the juices that dripped from it. She began to squirm under Cross in pleasure.

"You're going to make her cum," Loretta breathed against his face. The smell of Loretta's sweat drifted through Cross's nostrils, and he inhaled it and held it a moment in his lungs, taking a part of her and making it his for an instant. He knew he shouldn't let himself become attached to this woman, that he had overstayed his time in this town and should move on, but every time he prepared to leave another excuse popped up to stay.

Cross thought of the knife as he pumped his veiny manhood deep into Ashlee, the whore, the beautiful young girl, again and again, and thought of the knife erect in the dirt, the one he'd given Lauren Starr that afternoon so many years before. He thought of the words carved across Dawkins' naked chest, etched into his flesh. He thought of Starr's glowing amber hair as she rode him in a field on Turtle Creek, the sun streaming over them both, warming them and covering them with a sheen of glimmering sweat, her breasts sliding under his rough, groping hands. He hadn't been this close to Starr since the ranch on Turtle Creek had burned.

Ashlee cried out, her voice muffled as she screamed into Loretta's thigh. Just as it ended, Cross pulled his cock out of her, sticky and coated with her juices and pulled Loretta towards him. Ashlee scooted out of the way as Cross flipped Loretta over onto her stomach with a grunt and took her roughly from behind.

"Fuck! Christian!" Loretta squealed. Cross dug his fingers deep into the flesh of her hips and drove himself into her. Her body shivered uncontrollably, Loretta gnashing her teeth together, her mind becoming blank to all but the intense pleasure that flooded over her. She groaned and then began to grunt as Cross repeatedly slammed against her. Ashlee positioned herself under Loretta's body and took a flopping tit in her mouth to suck.

"Take it, baby, take it," Ashlee encouraged then sucked on Loretta's other swinging breast. Ashlee's face was flushed a bright red, bearing the proof of her intense orgasm.

Cross looked down and for a moment his cock was not buried into Loretta but Lauren Starr's dripping pussy. Had he forgotten what a joy robbing that girl of her innocence had been?

Before he could stop it from happening, Cross's cock exploded deep into Loretta's cunt, filling it with gobs of overflowing cum.

Smith Dooley exploded through the bedroom door. Ashlee, turning suddenly shy, squealed in surprise and covered up her nakedness with skinny arms. Dooley didn't notice her in the slightest.

"Boss, it's her! She's HERE!"

Cross didn't have to ask who he was talking about.

***

Lauren Starr felt the calm settle over her, the calm she always felt before the storm. She wasn't sure what had deadened her fear, cut it off from the root for all time; it had simply become a non-factor. Death didn't frighten her, only the thought of meeting it before Christian Cross.

He would underestimate her. Only come with a few men and not much of a plan. She numbered only one, and she was a woman on top of that. He'd come with maybe two or three others and let them do the dirty work while he watched. Starr almost felt sorry for them. They had no idea what who they were dealing with or what capabilities she possessed.

When someone walked through the entrance of the barn, Starr felt no surprise that he was not Christian Cross but yet another of his toads. The old stable master paced next to the toad with a crooked, nervous expression, and he ran his hand through a patch of wild, thinning white hair.

Cross was close; Lauren could feel his presence heavy on the air, his scent masked by hay, horse shit and sweat.

For a moment, Starr thought she caught a whiff of burning flesh, the ghosts of her parents lurking under the skin of this world to await and watch their vengeance.

Cross' toad was a foreboding presence, heavy and thick, a stubbly shadow of beard darkening the lower half of his square-jawed face. The toad eyed her with a slow, long gaze as if wondering if this was the woman they were making such a fuss about. You're not so much, the gaze seemed to say to Starr.

Starr gave him a dry smile. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a body slip into a corner to her left, working his way behind her. Cross had more than underestimated her; they acted as though she were some kind of brain-damaged idiot. Starr fought off an urge to straight up shoot them all down, then and there.

"Nice horse," Mr. Toad said in a deep voice. He hooked a thumb under his belt in a casual manner.

Starr sensed more than saw another presence ducking into a stall to her right. Her eyes remained focused on Toad's face. Nothing betrayed the mounting tension in her muscles, the coils tensing to strike. She couldn't tell if either one of the men in the shadows was Cross or even if Cross was there and within killing distance. She'd have to kill them all. Just to be sure.

"Looks familiar," Mr. Toad said. He stretched out a hand to pet the horse's mane.

Starr's hand moved like animal of its own, a separate part of her that blurred to one of her pistols, and before Mr. Toad's brain reasoned to react, she fired a round pointblank into his face.

The white-haired man standing next to them yelled and somehow turned his shuffle into a staggering run and was out the barn door while hell opened up behind him.

*

Upon seeing her, Cross felt his breath catch in his throat, lodging there and refusing to come out until he forced himself to exhale. The same amber hair, the same slim and athletic figure he remembered from the days on Turtle Creek. Cross could almost smell the sediment from the river on them after a dip on a sweaty summer day. A part of him knew she'd come someday, and this part had even wanted her to find him and lay past sins at his feet. The appearance of the knife at Dawkins' murder had brought back so many old emotions and memories that he still had just begun to sort through them. Now that it might happen, Cross wasn't sure how he felt about it. A mixture of excitement and anxiousness pitted themselves against one another within Cross's stomach.

But he couldn't see her face. He had to be sure. He needed to see...

Then the shooting began. He watched as the woman mowed down Thorne, more or less blasting Thorne's head through the back of his own skull. Her other gun was suddenly out in her second hand. Then she dove her to left and unleashed two shots in the opposite direction. A shrill cry evidenced the woman's precision. Something thudded dully in the shadows where she had shot. Another of Cross' gang dead.

Cross realized that only left Rogers to his right and Dooley up above on the rafters. Cross glanced up and saw Dooley creeping towards her. She hadn't seen him yet.

Rogers fired his weapon at Starr and ducked behind a post.

"Damn, she's good," he said, turning towards Cross.

Then the woman fired in their direction, and Rogers looked at Cross with shocked and somehow accusing eyes, his life leaking out of the hole in his neck and down his chest in erratic spurts.

"This can't be her," Cross mumbled to himself. The Lauren Starr he remembered could barely lift a gun let alone use it with such uncanny skill.

Cross bit his lip. He was no coward. Yet he made no move to give away his position in the corner.

*

Where the hell is he! The words were not a question but an accusation in Starr's head.

She felt movement above her, her senses screaming out in warning, and she twisted back just as a knife whizzed by and thunked deeply into the stall wall beside her head. She glanced up.

Smith Dooley stood on a wooden beam that ran across the length of the barn, one hand balancing himself on a connecting rafter, the other already whipping another knife out of a sheath at his belt and tossing it in a single swift motion. Perverse excitement flashed across his face.

Dooley was fast, flinging death through the air like Zeus raining lightening upon the hapless Greek masses. But Starr was faster. She flung herself forward, and her guns blazed. She missed. So did Dooley.

The knife grazed her shoulder, blood welling and trickling from the wound. The knife jiggled crookedly in its path and landed harmlessly on the dirt floor behind her. Starr landed with an awkward lurch on her stomach, breath rushing out of her lungs, and she rolled over to see Dooley above her. The bullets had almost brained him but ended up only taking a piece of his ear; Dooley flailed as he lost his balance, falling backwards and catching the wooden beam between his legs, simultaneously saving him from a fall that would have likely broken his neck and crushing his balls into his pelvis. Dooley tried to shriek but no sound would come. He almost wished he'd fell and broken his neck.

The beam splintered with a wooden crack before breaking completely and swinging towards Lauren Starr with dangerous speed. She rolled out of the way and caught a glimpse of Christian Cross standing to peer at her. Recognition lit up his face. She swung her guns in his direction and fired just as the beam exploded into the ground next to her, centimeters from crushing her body into paste.