The St. Valentine's Day Massacre

Squick alert: Contains incest as well as a general reference to anal sex.

All characters engaging in sexual activity are 18 or older. This is a work of erotic fiction and any resemblance between the characters or events depicted in this story and any actual persons, living or dead, or events is coincidental and entirely unintentional.

Liberties were taken with the interpretation of Wisconsin state law. I call it creative license, law enforcement may not see it that way if you do it in real life. Remember kids, just 'cause you can don't mean you should.

Let's get busy...

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Gossip is a fact of life. Any time you have more than two people in an enclosed space, you're going to get gossip. It's been one of the constants of the universe since humanity came into existence.

Our workplace was no exception to that rule. It usually took less than 24 hours for a normal piece of gossip to go from origination to public knowledge. The news that my sister Julie had broken up with her boyfriend Harley on New Year's Eve was headline news by the next morning.

To quote Don Henley, "People love dirty laundry." The dirtier, the better.

The three of us had started working for the company at the same time, we trained together, worked on a few projects together, and eventually were promoted to supervisor of different projects.

Coworkers having relationships wasn't prohibited by the company but it was strongly discouraged, for obvious reasons. The informal solution when word got out was to separate the lovebirds first so they weren't disruptive. If, and usually when, the relationship soured, we would just move one of them to another team and perhaps change their schedule. Whatever it took to separate them so they weren't a problem. Rarely did we have to push it up the chain to the site manager. When that happened, somebody was going to end up unemployed. Herman was the site manager and he was an asshole when it came to disturbing his peace.

Julie and Harley had started dating almost immediately after we were hired. I didn't much care for him, he was a jerk unless and until he wanted in your pants. He thought he was much better looking and smarter than he was in reality.

My sister, on the other hand, was actually much more attractive than she thought she was. She wasn't cover girl pretty, more the girl next door type of cute. She was smart, didn't take shit from anybody, and was able to think on her feet. Except when it came to Harley.

In the beginning, we had quite a few disagreements about her relationship. She seemed happy so I gave up trying to make her see the light. The strain on our relationship just wasn't worth it. That was another reason I hated the fucker. He had driven a wedge between us that still hadn't quite healed in the three plus years they had been together.

Harley wasn't even his real name, that was Harlan. He had a bike, of course, it was a Harley, so he co-opted the name. I called him Harlan when I wanted to piss him off, meaning pretty much all of the time. Every so often, I would call him Honda in front of whatever girl he was trying to impress, knowing that would make her laugh, and then introduce myself as his girlfriend's brother.

Julie had shown up at my apartment at 12:05 a.m. on New Year's Day. As expected, it was colder than a witch's tit in a brass bra that night. I wasn't happy when I opened the door. I had been asleep and I didn't like being woken up. Especially in the middle of the night.

As soon as I realized who it was through the peephole, I opened the door and let her in. I still wasn't happy but all she had on for warmth was a down jacket and some insulated boots. Her party dress barely came down far enough to cover her ass and she wasn't wearing any type of hose. I couldn't let her stand outside and freeze while I bitched at her for waking me up.

Julie was 17 months older than me, so she had the big sister intimidation thing down. She pushed past me and headed toward the couch. The only word she said was "Don't." Her tone made it clear she wasn't kidding. I could smell alcohol mixed with her perfume as she passed me, rum at a guess.

Once I closed the door behind her and relocked it, she shrugged off the jacket and her little bag, dropping them on the couch. She dropped the heels she had been carrying on the floor and then flopped down beside her jacket to remove her boots. She made no attempt at modesty, flashing me with views of panties that were bright blue, very high cut in the front, and made from sheer lace, as she pulled the boots off one at a time. She had gone all out for tonight, manicure, pedicure, makeup, hair, the works.

While trying to avoid staring at the upskirt display, I noted that two things were missing from her outfit. The gold "H" necklace she had always worn and the ring she wore on her left ring finger.

I sat down in the armchair across from her. "You want something to drink?"

She simply nodded. I had a bottle of Grey Goose that she had given me one year, which was her favorite liquor. I also kept some bottled iced tea in the fridge. I grabbed a few ice cubes, tossed them in a glass, brought all of it out, and set it on the coffee table. She seemed like a girl sorely in need of a stiff drink.

She poured a couple of ounces of the vodka into the glass and filled the remainder with the tea. We had learned that concoction from my maternal grandmother. It was the only way she could tolerate our grandfather and our mother, apparently. She took a large swallow and closed her eyes.

Even though I was still half asleep, it was clear to me that my sister was hanging on to what was left of her self-control for dear life. Her hands were shaking, making the ice lightly chatter against the sides of the glass. She was taking measured deep breaths in an attempt to keep her emotions in check.

I quietly got up and moved next to her, putting my arm around her shoulder. She started shaking as she lay her head on my shoulder and let out a deep sigh. I tilted my head so that my cheek was resting against the top of her head. I had no idea what to say so I kept my peace. The last thing she needed was an "I told you so" right now.

It didn't take long to figure out that she was losing the battle to keep from crying. I couldn't remember the last time I had seen her cry. She wasn't an overly emotional person so this was all sort of new to me. The onset was slow, as the shaking became more intense and her breath started hitching. Once that started, it wasn't very long before I could feel the tears start dripping onto my upper chest.

I took the glass from her with my left hand and put it on the coffee table. She reached across me to grab my hand with her right hand and proceeded to hold it with both of hers while she cried quietly. Our family wasn't the demonstrative type so she was really hurting to be this open.

After a while, her crying quieted down and then stopped. She let go of my hand and reached for the glass, taking another healthy swallow from it before returning her head to my shoulder. A few minutes later, she took another good-sized swallow and then had another good cry. When that episode ended, she finished her glass and immediately poured a stronger one.

I debated with myself about taking the glass from her. While not exactly strangers to alcohol, we weren't professional drinkers and that was a lot of alcohol in a very short time. I decided that compassion was probably the best course of action, so I would let her have this one and then cut her off for the night. She was definitely going to spend it here, she wasn't going anywhere in this condition.

She took a large sip from the glass and set it back down on the table. I grabbed the box of tissues off the end table and handed it to her. She pulled out a couple and set the box on the table next to the glass.

"Thanks." The slight slurring of the "s" proved my assessment correct, she was already too impaired to be driving. She blew her nose and tried to clean up her cheeks where her makeup had run.

"I'm sorry." That was the only response I could think of.

"We split up." I had already figured that part out. "He was seeing somebody behind my back." Julie started getting choked up again, reached for the glass, and downed another large swallow.

"Oh." Sometimes my eloquence amazed me.

"Yeah, fucking Tiffany. Tiffany. Did you know she's only 19? 19." Another decent swallow from her drink was followed by a hiccup. This time, I removed the glass from her hand and put it out of reach. I knew when she started repeating the end of every sentence, she was drunk.

"That's fucked up." Julie was ten years older than Tiffany, the same age as Harlan. I wanted to ask how she found out because this was news to me. Not a single tidbit of gossip on the grapevine about that. I didn't have to wait long to find out.

"That dumb bitch texted the entire work group on WhatsApp, asking if he was going to see her again tonight after the party. Amanda showed it to me." Amanda was Julie's "friend", she worked in Harlan's group. She was one of those people who liked to start shit and then stand back to watch it go down. I didn't much care for her, either. The only thing we had in common was our dislike for Harlan.

"Jules, you need new friends. That's some real bullshit right there." And there I went, right into the minefield. I expected to get my head bitten off, going after her friend like that.

Oddly enough, she just sniffled. She continued to lean against me so I continued to keep my arm around her.

"I hope she has the clap." I wanted to ask if she meant Tiffany or Amanda, and decided both would be okay by me. "He's had it before."

I sighed and hugged her tightly with the arm I had around her shoulder. That was a detail I didn't want to know. "You're going to have to stay here tonight. I don't know how you got here but you can't drive like this."

She nodded and dropped her used tissues onto the coffee table so she could extract a couple of new ones from the box. "Yeah, I'm really fucked up. I took an Uber." She dropped her hands into her lap and that's when I noticed that her dress had ridden up and was now openly displaying her crotch. They were very sheer lace, leaving little to the imagination. I shifted my attention back to the table, I didn't need to know that much about her preferences in date night underwear.

"I've got sweats and a T-shirt you can use for tomorrow. You can take the bed tonight, I'll sleep out here."

"You sure? I can --" She started to protest but I cut her off.

"Yeah, I'm sure." I could also keep her from drinking more than she already had.

She stared down at her hands in her lap, oblivious to the display she was giving me. "I'm sorry, Sonny."

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Jules. He cheated on you, not the other way around. I'm sorry you got hurt like that." I made a mental note to stay away from talking shit about Harlan or Amanda for the rest of the night. I'd gotten away with it once, pressing my luck wouldn't be a good idea.

"He's not going to do it to me again." That was good to hear, if she meant it. I had the feeling she did. That dickhead didn't deserve her. She would eventually find somebody decent, I was sure.

"I gotta go to the bathroom." She tried to stand up and it was painfully obvious that she was actually wearing very high-cut panties. I had seen my sister in bathing suits, some of them a little revealing, but never that small. Objectively, she had a really nice ass. Caught by surprise, it took my hand a minute to find her lower back to help push her upright. She absentmindedly pulled her dress down and stumbled to the bathroom.

I sat there on the couch, trying to erase the memory of my sister's ass cheeks in my face when I heard something hit the floor in the bathroom. Violent retching noises soon followed. I quickly got up and went over to the bathroom, where Julie was on her knees in front of the john, gagging. I held her hair out of the way and lightly rubbed her upper back until she stopped. This was also a first for me. The only other time I ever saw her get sick from alcohol was the very first time she came home drunk. That was fun.

I helped her up and closed the lid so she could sit back down on it. She almost fell over turning to flush the toilet and I managed to catch her before she smacked her face into the shower door. I got another graphic upskirt display for my trouble.

I found a clean washcloth and soaked it so she could wipe her face when she was finished. I brought a clean glass from the kitchenette so she could rinse her mouth.

"I need to lay down. I don't feel so good now." She was not all that steady on her feet so I helped her to my bedroom and sat her down on the bed. I moved the wastebasket to the side of the bed, figuring she was going to need it at some point tonight.

I started to leave and she grabbed my arm. "I need you to unzip me. I can't do it." She leaned forward and I found the little pull. After unhooking the top eyehook, I unzipped it all the way to its end. Her bra was the same shade of blue as her underwear.

Before I could take a step to leave, she pulled the dress off over her head. The lace bra was just as sheer as the front panel of her underwear, her nipples were visible through the material. She had amazing breasts, too. I tried to maintain eye contact and I think I was mostly successful. She seemed completely unaware of what she was doing, operating on automatic.

"I'll be on the couch if you need anything, okay? The trashcan is next to the bed if you need it." I needed to get out of there before she realized what she was doing and started freaking out on me. She laid down, I helped her swing her feet up onto the bed, trying unsuccessfully not to stare at her crotch as the panel moved around as she shifted. I covered her with the comforter, and turned off the light as I left. I left the door open a crack so I could hear her in case she needed help.

For that good deed, I spent most of the night listening to her cry. She would stop for a while but it would start back up soon enough. I think I slept a couple of hours, eventually.

New Year's Day dawned cloudy and cold. I was up before dawn, discovering that the floor was no more comfortable than the couch, which hadn't been comfortable at all. Sticking my head inside the door, Julie was asleep, one foot sticking out from under the comforter that was otherwise pulled up to her neck. Even in her sleep, she looked heartbroken.

I went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and bumped up the thermostat a little. I was certain Julie would be hungover and she didn't like being cold. I couldn't fix the first one but I could try to avoid the second. I had cereal and coffee for breakfast since I could do that quietly.

While I waited for her to get up, I found my little bottle of aspirin that I used for hangovers. The expiration date said they were still good to use so I put it on the counter next to the sink in the bathroom.

She woke up around 9:30. I could hear her stirring so I pulled the bedroom door closed after telling her "Sweatpants in the bottom drawer, T-shirts in the drawer above it. Socks are top left if you want a pair."

I heard a mumbled "Thanks," and the sound of drawers opening and closing. Ten minutes later, the door opened and Death Incarnate appeared, carrying her underwear in one hand.

"You got a bag? I can't carry these like this." As she waved her underwear around, her breasts swayed under the T-shirt. I had a very hard time maintaining eye contact. Between the movement under the T-shirt and the way my sweatpants were stretched across her hips, it was disturbingly distracting. Growing up, our rooms were on opposite sides of the house and we had separate bathrooms. I had never seen her dressed like this before.

"Yeah, yeah, sure." If the stammering didn't give away my embarrassment, my red face probably did. I wasn't used to seeing my sister that way and my brain was failing to cope appropriately.

I pulled a plastic store bag from under the sink and handed it to her. She stuffed the bra and underwear in the bag and tossed it on top of her jacket in the armchair. "Aspirin is on the counter in the bathroom if you need it."

"I do, thanks." The view of her walking away was just as entrancing as the front view had been. I forced myself to look down at the table before she turned and caught me. She had enough trouble without her brother going all creeper on her.

"There's some girlie stuff under the sink and a spare toothbrush in the top drawer of the vanity." My last girlfriend had neglected to take her spare supply when she moved to Milwaukee last spring. I held on to it, I'm not really sure why. I was glad that I did now.

A muted "Thanks" came from the bathroom as the door closed. She was in the shower for quite a while. I could hear the couple next door obviously taking turns barfing their guts up in the bathroom. They had come in a little after two this morning and they weren't quiet about it. They made slightly less noise fucking their brains out before apparently passing out. Julie had apparently slept through it all. Lucky her.

When Julie came out, she looked somewhat more human. Her hair was still damp since I didn't own a blowdryer and her eyes were clearer. She found a cup and poured herself a cup of coffee before sitting down at the little table I had in the kitchen area.

"I hate to ask this but --", she spoke reluctantly, eyes down on her cup.

"Whatever you need, Jules." We had always been independent, both of our parents worked for as long as I could remember. We took care of ourselves and asking for help was something we just didn't do without cause.

"Can you help me find someplace to stay? This is the last month on the lease and I can't afford the rent by myself so I'm going to have to move."

"Yeah, we can do that. They have a couple of vacant apartments here, if you think you might be interested."

"Maybe." The pause between us was uncomfortable. "Would you consider sharing a place? I know it's a little steep here."

It was expensive. When my ex-girlfriend lived here, it was manageable because we split the rent evenly. After she left, it took a pretty big chunk out of my paycheck. I stayed because it was close to work and stores. I liked living here, despite the new neighbors.

My lease wouldn't come up for renewal until the end of February. We could see about renting a two bedroom, half of that rent would still be less than what I was paying now and I could afford to buy some new furniture.

"Yeah, that sounds like a decent plan. I guess we need to go get some of your stuff and your car until he clears out?"

"In a little while. I still feel like shit." She started choking up again. "I can't believe this is happening to me. I really thought we were going to get married eventually. Instead, he's fucking some barely legal kid just because she's got bigger tits."

I reached across the table and put my hand over hers. "I know it sounds like bullshit, but it's his loss, Jules. You didn't do anything wrong. God knows, it happens."

Julie looked up from her cup, her face almost expressionless. She looked at me for a few seconds before speaking. "I don't need a lecture, Emerson." Emerson was my given name, although pretty much everyone called me Sonny.

"Wasn't going to give you one. I've been on this ride. It sucks, you live through it, and hopefully you learn something from it. I'm going to get in the shower. When you feel up to going, we'll go get your stuff and stop at the store. I don't have much in the way of food." I stood up and headed to the bedroom to get some clothes, and then headed for the bathroom.

When I was finished, she had straightened up the bed. On the table was a list of things from the store that she had started. I added a couple of things I needed to it. Julie was sitting on the couch, doing something on her phone.