Siblings with Benefits Lex Talionis Ch. 03


That (ˇ)Saturday night I had been in the back at Mitch's when Cynthia came in to tell me someone was there for me. I came out to find Carson's brother Keith sitting at the bar. The bar was slow so I told Cynthia to go into the back and take inventory while I talked to Keith. I didn't want her out there in case things got nasty. Looking at Keith nasty was exactly what I had been prepared for. Keith was five years older than Carson, and also about forty pounds heavier, with a build that rivaled my own.

Keith had been a Navy Seal, and had been dishonorably discharged for beating the shit out of a superior officer. I knew he had a black belt in Ju Jitsu as well as a mean streak a mile wide. Keith was alone and, as I sized him up, I noticed him doing the same to me. I walked up to him, and with no beating around the bush, Keith asked me why exactly it was that he had an envelope full of his brother's teeth in his pocket.

The Voice had whispered to just tell Keith the truth. Taking its advice I told Keith that yes Megan had stolen from Carson, but I had shown up with some money and to make an arrangement. Carson didn't want to hear it and he and Malcolm told me how much they would enjoy fucking my sister. I warned them, but they started and I finished. I told Keith point blank that no one fucked with my sister and I decided to give Carson something to remember me by.

Keith had listened quietly then to my surprise, although the voice did give me an "I told you so", Keith told me that he had thought about it and decided that two wrongs didn't make a right. Megan should have never taken from him, on the other hand Keith explained how he had been trying to tell Carson for years that he couldn't act like a thug and that sooner or later someone would put him in his place. At that point I couldn't resist saying;

"Takers take until their taken."

Keith surprised me again by smirking and nodding in agreement. Keith then told me that whether I wanted to believe it or not, if Carson had hurt Megan he would have beaten him himself. Not just because he didn't think it was right, but because rape charges had a tendency to bring a lot of police around. Sensing that the Voice had indeed somehow been right and that this looked like it was going to end here without trouble I told Keith that I would still try to pay Megan's debt.

Keith said to forget the money, and on top of that would warn his people that the next person who sold to my sister would deal with him. At that point however Keith did look me in the eye and say by the same token if I went near his brother again I would be dealing with him. I felt that familiar hot feeling of rage begin to rise up within me, and was ready to ask Keith if he wanted to go right now, that I could tear him apart as quickly as I did his brother.

I was stopped by the Voice saying softly;

"We got away with one Mark, he's giving us an out, but still has to send a warning to save face, just go along with him and not only is it over, but we may need him someday. Friends close, enemies closer."

I told Keith that was fine with me, that I didn't need any trouble, and was just trying to help my sister, things had just gotten out of hand. Keith said as far as he was concerned it was over. Then with a smile handed me a card with his pager number, and said to give him a call if I ever wanted to make some real money. Clapping me hard on the shoulder he told me I would make one hell of a street enforcer. I told him thanks but no thanks and, after I gave him a beer and a shot on the house, Keith left.

How the hell did you know that's how it would work out? I asked the Voice.

"I told you before Mark, I'm the smarter, stronger part of us, I don't get caught up in anything, but what needs to be done. What we did to Carson scared Keith make no bones about it. He's better off with us than against us." It laughed. "The fact he can't stand his brother didn't hurt either."

Knowing I wouldn't have to contend with Keith was huge weight off my mind. The fact that he had even thrown in that his guys would stay away from Megan was an added bonus, that is if she ever came back. With Keith taken care of this left me with only one other immediate concern, but it was a big one; the rent was do in a week and I had nothing. Mitch would probably let me slide, but I didn't make a lot of money at the bar. As far as Robin went I couldn't always count on her, I mean I usually saw her once a week and she almost always paid me something. The joke she had made about books however was true, my scholarship didn't cover them and they weren't cheap. The reason I had worked so hard on getting a month ahead on my rent in the first place was that September was only a month away and I was taking on a full course load. Robin would certainly be of no help right now as she was attending a conference in LA all week.

Doug and Denise had always told me that if I ever needed help to always come to them, but Doug and I had argued the last few times out and I didn't want to look like a hypocrite. I also didn't want to look irresponsible, as I'm sure if I showed up and said I needed help with the rent that Doug would be quick to point out my brand new three hundred dollar tattoo. I certainly would never tell them the truth; that Megan had stolen from me as she had from them.

There was always Alex I suppose. Alex's father owned Orion Electronics, the company that had given me my scholarship. Alex was about seven years older than me and had been the one to come and see me about the scholarship and had picked me out of the three candidates. Since then Alex and I had become friends, probably the only real one I had. Alex's family was worth several million dollars and he had been raised with a silver spoon in his mouth; the type of person I usually hated, but Alex seemed pretty down to earth and genuinely liked me.

Alex was a good looking guy who, like myself, worked out like a maniac and we usually went to the gym together a couple of times a week. An amateur boxer in college Alex also like to mix it up with me in the ring, with the one rule that I couldn't use any kicks and had given me some pretty good fights. The biggest thing we had in common however was women. Alex was a pure lady killer, who oozed charm as well as money, of course always dressing the part. I, on the otherhand, went with the "bad boy" approach and was not without some charisma of my own. The two of us would hit the clubs, pick a girl and see who could pick her up first. I smiled at the thought of how a couple of weeks ago there was a little blonde slut named Ashley who couldn't make up her mind so she let us tag team her. My smile broadened as that night also put to bed the endless argument of who was better hung.

The only problem with that, well there were two; one Alex was currently in New York on business and wasn't coming back for a couple of more weeks, and two; I just hated to borrow. Alex had always made it clear that he had a lot of respect for me, and to never feel bad if I needed anything. Like myself Alex didn't have much in the way of friends, not real ones anyways as his money kept plenty of people around him, and he was happy to help. The fact that he did respect me made me all the more hesitant to ask.

No Alex wasn't an option, neither was Doug, and if Mitch did let me go then I would be paying late for a few months before I could catch up. Finally as I sat there stewing it occurred to me that I could always try hustling pool, during my two years working for Mitch, I had become a pretty damn good player, playing alone when the bar was closed and learning from the old timers when we were slow. Here and there I would play with some of the frat boys or bikers and win a few dollars. A couple of times I had even gone to some of the other bars just to see how good I was and would usually come out on top.

The only problem was most of the people I would hustle were the college kids who were playing with Daddy's money and were too dumb to quit. It was the end of July and most of the kids had gone back home. There were a couple of billiards clubs around, but there was no guarantee I could win in those places as there were some real pro's there. On that note I went over to my closet and pulled down the case that contained my two hundred dollar Black McDermott pool cue and, checking one of the pockets, found the fifty dollar bill I kept there. It wasn't much but it gave me a stake.

I didn't bother trying on Monday or Tuesday, most people got paid midweek or later and were broke by then. On Wednesday I hit JK Social Club and walked out with a hundred and twenty dollars. I added another seventy five that night at KC's Tap, which gave me half of the four hundred I needed. Yesterday had started off great with me running into a kid who had more money than skill down at Rick's pub and didn't quit until his girlfriend took his cue away from him, but by then I had a hundred and fifty of his money.

I was feeling damn good at that point until I went to Corinna's Pub and lost seventy five to a tall blond in her thirties who further humiliated me by rolling her eyes at me, when I offered to get my money back in other ways, and telling me to come back in a few years when I could handle the ride. I grabbed a quick fifty back at Tommy's lounge late last night, but at that point I was still down seventy five dollars and out of places to go.

I went back to Mitch's to help Cynthia close and, while I was there, hung around the pool table seeing if anyone there would be dumb enough to play me. No one would but one of the bikers told me that he heard there were some guys who played for money at the Green bar in Olnyville. I frowned a little at that; not that I was afraid to go anywhere as I could more than handle myself, but Olnyville was pretty much the armpit of Rhode Island and any bar there made Mitch's look like a country club.

There was also quite a bit of trouble in the bars around there. The crowd tended to consist of out of work middle age blue collar types, who liked to take their frustration with their pathetic lives out on the equally pathetic loser next to them. I had never really hung around that part of Providence so they wouldn't know me there, which would work to my advantage, only problem was that the type of crowd that hung there really wasn't the kind that liked new faces, never mind young pretty ones. In the end however I was a day away from the rent being due and out of options.

I must have eventually drifted off to sleep as Cynthia woke me up by kissing me on the cheek. I opened my eyes and saw with some disappointment that she was dressed for school. Despite the wild sex we had just had not more than an hour ago I could definitely go for more. Hell when didn't I want it?

"I have to get going Mark. Do you want to stay and sleep? Sherry's home."

"No," I said forcing myself to sit up. "I have to get going."

I got up and got dressed, figuring I would just shower after the gym. Cynthia watched me, her eyes lingering on my cock, and I knew if I really wanted to I could make her late, but she was teaching this course for extra credit and I didn't want to mess it up for her. When I finished dressing we walked out together, which I knew Cynthia got a kick out of because her roommate Sherry, who all but drooled over me when she came to the bar, was sitting on the couch and saw us leave.

I made Cynthia happy by having my arm around her as we left and giving her a long kiss in front of the window knowing damn well Sherry would be watching. Cynthia asked me if she could come up to my place tonight, and I found myself hesitating. We had spent three nights together this week already and I really didn't want her to start thinking we were more, but she had felt damn good this morning. I told her that I would like that but with a wink added;

"Don't always expect me to be so nice."

"Yes sir." Cynthia answered putting her head down and pouting at me.

I arrived at the Green Bar at two o'clock and, after getting out of my car, leaned against it and smoked a cigarette while I watched the front to see the kind of people going in and out. No one did either, as I sat there and I found myself hoping there was some action to be had inside. I was wearing faded jeans and a white tank top that showed off my tattoos and the arms beneath them. I hadn't shaved in a couple of days, so at least I didn't look too pretty at the moment. I was also wearing the black motorcycle boots with the steel tips; between the tips and the power in my legs I could pretty much break any bone in the human body with one kick.

Putting the cigarette out I slung my pool stick over my shoulder and, crossing the street, walked up to the faded peeling green door where I paused. I narrowed my eyes as I felt an odd chill go through me, the hairs on my neck were standing and I quickly turned around expecting to see someone staring at me. There was no one there that I could see. Closing my eyes I cocked my head and felt around inside my head, if The Voice was there it was laying low. I took one more quick look around then, shrugging the feeling off to not enough sleep, walked into the bar.

The inside of the Green Bar was poorly lit, which was probably on purpose, to try to cover up the fact that the bar was just as dingy on the inside as the outside. The bar had that distinctly sleazy aura about it that, for whatever reason, part of me always enjoyed, maybe because it reminded me of the movies. A cloud of cigarette smoke was visible in the light that the open door had let in, and the place reeked of it as well as spilled beer, and someone or someone's definitely needed a shower.

Once I closed the door behind me I took a couple of steps in then, as I always did the first time I came to a place like this, studied the layout. The bar was decent size with a few small tables scattered about and the bar running the length of the back wall facing the door. There was a jukebox in the left hand corner and the pool table was up on a raised platform towards the back on the right. Over the table was a set of bright fluorescent lights making it the only corner of the bar that you could see clearly. That also told me that there were guys who took their games seriously. There was a doorway that led to a small corridor with a hand written sign that said "the John" near the pool table, and there was also a small door behind the bar that I'm sure opened to a backroom like Mitch's.

I walked in and headed towards the corner of the bar near the pool table. There were three men sitting at one of the tables to my left playing cards and a few at the other end of the bar. There were two guys currently playing pool; one a thin guy with a pony tail was shooting, the other had his back to the table using the pay phone. As I kept walking towards the bar I couldn't help but notice how big the guy on the phone was.

The platform made it hard to judge height, but he was standing in the doorway that led to the men's room and his shoulders practically filled the frame. There were two older, nasty looking bar skanks sitting at the table near the pool table that looked up as I passed and both of whom flashed me what they probably thought was an engaging smile.

"Christ, I wouldn't fuck them with Alex's dick!"

I rolled my eyes, but now at least knew why I'd had that weird feeling at the door; the voice had been lurking around and, playing hide and seek, for whatever reason.

As I walked through to the bar everyone turned to look at me. As I always did I walked slowly and confidently, my head up, looking around as if I owned the place. At 5'10" I wasn't that tall, but at one hundred eighty pounds of rock solid muscle and my enormous bad ass tattoos, along with my swagger, I certainly gave the air as someone you just didn't want to fuck with.

I reached the bar and noticed most of the people were still looking at me. The bartender was at the other end talking to a couple of guys in baseball caps and wife beaters, he turned and looked at me then went back to his talking as if I weren't there. I didn't care, I was there to make a hundred bucks and get out. I would wait a few minutes however and see if the guys playing were going to keep going. If one quit that would be my opening, if they kept going I would just go up and put my money on the table.

I took a pack of Marlboro's from my pocket and, lighting one, leaned on the bar waiting for the asshole at the other end to decide to come get me a drink.

"Hey honey, can you spare one of those?"

I turned to see a woman with long unkempt black hair, and dark circles under a pair of bloodshot brown eyes standing next to me eyeing the pack I had tossed on the bar. I shrugged;

"Help yourself." I told her.

"Thanks hon."

Grabbing the pack she took one out and, after putting it in her mouth, picked up my lighter. I watched as, after flicking the lighter, she tried twice to light it, both times failing as her hands were shaking so badly that she couldn't catch the tip of the cigarette.


"Here." I said and taking the lighter from her flicked it and held it still for her.

"Thanks," She said nodding. "Just a little nervous today you know?"

I nodded and turned away.

"You know honey," She began. "Maybe you could help me out a little more." As she spoke she placed her hand on my forearm and started rubbing it back and forth.

"You see I could use a few dollars to well, you know, get what I need, so maybe I could give you a little something and we'd both make out."

I looked down at her hand on my arm. I could feel her fingers trembling and the back of her hand looked like that of a woman in her fifties. I looked up at her ready to tell her to fuck off, but stopped. Looking at her I originally thought she was probably at least late forties now I realized she probably wasn't more than early thirties, her lifestyle had aged her badly. I could also tell looking at her ravaged features that she had probably been quite attractive at one time. I found myself wondering sadly if this was going to be my sister in a few years; trolling bars like this, doing anything and anyone for the next hit.

"Her problem not ours." "Sorry hon," I said quietly. "I'm not the kind that pays for it."

"Oh, well I..." She tried to smile seductively at me. "I'm a good time really, you won't be sorry! I live right around the corner and..." She put her head down. "Please?"

I reached into my pocket and pulling out the two hundred I had brought with me put a twenty down in front of her.

"Here, go get something to eat or do whatever you want with it."

She quickly grabbed the money and leaning over kissed me on the cheek.

"Thanks hon!" She paused and looked me up and down. "You sure you don't..."

"Positive," I told her. "Now do me a favor and tell the asshole down there I'd like a drink sometime this week."

The woman smiled again and headed down the other end.

"Why the hell did you do that? Fucking skank's just going to use it for drugs, we needed it!"

Rather than answer, I put my pool case on the bar and started to open it.

"Oh why, because she reminded you of our weak willed sorry excuse of a sister, because..."

You shut the fuck up. I told it. You don't ever fucking talk about Megan like that or I swear I'll go to a shrink and ditch your sorry ass for good.

"Yeah go ahead, maybe they'll put us in the same room as dear old dad. Wouldn't that be fun!"

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath to calm down. I need to play some pool and win some money, arguing with myself wasn't going to get me anywhere.

"What the fuck kind of shot you call that?!?"

The voice had come from the pool table to my right, it was deep gravelly and worst of all I knew it!

Report Story

bylovecraft68© 7 comments/ 30575 views/ 17 favorites

Share the love

Report a Bug

6 Pages:1234

Forgot your password?

Please wait

Change picture

Your current user avatar, all sizes:

Default size User Picture  Medium size User Picture  Small size User Picture  Tiny size User Picture

You have a new user avatar waiting for moderation.

Select new user avatar: