Stonecutter Pt. 02

"Yeah, you're real tough against a defenseless woman. How about you go a few minutes with me? You chicken shit asshole." I squeezed his fist until I felt something click in the bones. He pulled his hand back in surprise.

"Ain't none o' yah concern. Walk away an you don't get hurt." He said in an evil tone.

"You big piece of shit. Fuck you, you coward. Tell you what, since you're such a pussy, I'll even give you the first punch." I spit in his face just to enrage him. When your emotions are in control, you are easy to beat.

He put the poor woman down. It was Jazz! Now I was really pissed off. He hit me in my left cheek, and I spit out a tooth. Damn! It always hurt when they grew back. Always!

"My turn!" I waded into this mountain of a man. He was at least six inches taller and a hundred pounds heavier, but I was a very good boxer. I loved to box and had been doing so for a hundred years, easy. I started with about ten body shots and he got in a good left hand to my head. I let all the anger well up into my fist and BAM! I hit him square in his sternum. I felt it break. I followed that with a bunch of hits to his face so he would remember me.

I said , "Do you give up? Last chance before you go to intensive care."

"Fuck you little man. I'm going to kill you tiny pipsqueak!" I feinted left and brought the right hand full force, not in his face, but into his Adams apple. He was going to be on a respirator soon. Followed that with an uppercut to his bloody chin, and took him up off his feet. He hit the floor hard. He was out cold. I straightened myself out, and picked up poor beaten Jazz. We were both covered in blood. Time to get the hell out of here before the cops showed up.

I heard a gasp behind me and there was a beautiful black cop in her white uniform. She had no panties, because they were in my pocket!

"Walt, did you do this?" Sandra asked, looking shocked.

"He was going to beat her to death. No way I was going to let that happen. I will wait for the cops."

"Like hell you will. This is the third time he has beat her up! No cops for you. Go to this address and just tell the guy I sent you. He's a veterinarian, but he can help both of you. He's my brother. You're bleeding. Go on hurry! One condition though..." She looked at me with stars in her eyes.

"What condition?" I asked.

"I want you to come over to my place Thursday night and ravage me again. Ok?" She kissed me.

"Ok, but you're cooking!" I kissed her back. Jazz was awake and looking very upset.

"PLEASE. Take me with you! He won't be in jail for long. He knows someone in the department. You have to get going now. PLEASE HURRY." I carried her out. I told the driver to take us to the vet. The man was really nice, and sewed up some bad cuts on each of us. I left him five hundred, for doing a good job and for forgetting he ever saw us.

I got all four women back to the hotel and we all went to the penthouse. I would bring the other three up in a little while. The fight with the women might be worse than the fistfight I was just in.

"Ok, do any of you speak or understand Chinese?" I asked the four. Surprisingly, the au pair Audrey said she spoke a bit of Mandarin. I gave her a list of herbs to buy with names and Chinese symbols to look for.

"Please go down to the market and get me these medicinal herbs. Here is some cash. Take the driver with you for safety. If you feel uneasy or threatened in any way, just come back here quickly, ok? I can get the concierge to do this, but he might have too many questions. Give me a kiss." She was off.

"I need one of you to get some ice and plastic for a cold pad or two." Terry's mom Teresa was on it.

"What do you want me to do?" Asked Terry.

"Nurse your hungry child, then I would ask you to give this poor woman your most gentle massage ever. She has stitches and many, many bruises. Maybe you can find her something to wear? Her tits are big, but nowhere near as big as your big milkers."

"Why don't we just go shopping?" She smiled. She loved to shop.

"I don't know what her ex knows, and unless I'm with you... We need to lay low until I have more info on this guy. I heard he has a friend in the police department. Why don't you get the concierge to do a few shopping errands for us? Keep us all safe for a few days. Here is some cash." I handed her about a thousand dollars. That should be able to buy a few dresses. I girded my loins and kissed all four women before heading into the lion's den.

The shit was going to hit the fan for sure. I had made arrangements to get the penthouse suite for at least a week. It took a bunch of cash, but I told the concierge he could expect a large tip. Thank goodness I had brought cash! Then I shoved three c-notes into his shirt pocket. He would take care of everything.

I had some explaining to do. I just had to accept the difficult consequences of my own actions. Let the chips fall where they may. It was time for me to come clean. This was not going to be easy. I left the penthouse

I had left to pick up a very bad girl... I wound up bringing back her... her mother, and her babysitter...and a beaten woman (needing someplace else to hide... from her homicidal maniac ex-husband). Oh and don't forget the beautiful policewoman!

And I was the naughty man, fucking all of them AND a cute policewoman. I would have to come clean. I would have to reveal the cure I held for Terry, and the terrible truth about me.

They would never ever believe what I was going to tell them, but I had to let them know about the real danger, if they were to stay with me. It was only fair.

I figured those who wanted me might accept the danger, but I was reluctant to tell them about the agonies that I had to take, that they would face if they stood by my side with the change. I said a silent prayer, and went to the suite to get my punishment. No good deed goes unpunished, and I was a very bad boy. I wondered if I had more to fear from them, or the giant evil ex-husband I had beaten up? I wondered if they would believe my story, or try to get me committed for a mental breakdown.

I entered the suite and there was a flash of brilliant red hair, and there before me... Was the woman who left me in France. What year was that? 1787? 1789? Small details blur over the years, especially when some crazy was trying to chop off your head for being American. There she stood, very much alive. As usual, she was pissed off. Some things never change.

"You fuckin BASTARD! Ye piece of shite, tis ure for shur! I nearly died fur ye fuckwa!" She did a perfect pirouette, and spun around into a textbook executed flying-spin- kick to my already hurting head. Blackness enveloped me. My wife had a very bad temper. As I lay there, I wondered if I was going to die from the perfectly placed kick to my skull. I had not heard from her in two hundred and how many years? She was still very pissed off at me. Maybe I would get lucky and just die, rather than face the wrath of my hot headed, red haired wife. I could only hope.

End of part 2