Chapter Thirteen

Jackson Blevins

J ackson didn’t need to attend another whiny meeting with stuck-up Shelby and Benny the bummer accountant. Not when he could send his secretary Debbi to take notes in his place. It didn’t matter now anyway. He was smuggling in the good stuff through the border and the drugs were cheap and plentiful. Once he established a stable sales connection, the UPRC wouldn’t have to worry about money ever again. He might even make enough to buy that little bitch out of her share and then he wouldn’t have to deal with her and Benny’s whining about the board’s reactions and his overspending.

This latest shipment was the purest shit he’d ever sampled. He did another bump of cocaine even though he was still flying high from the line he’d done with his morning coffee and doughnut. He was looking forward to his meeting with Dolly Keller later. He’d been trying to get some alone time with the busty blond bombshell for ages.

He had been overjoyed to hire her for marketing and public relations, and not just because of her great rack. She used to cheer for his favorite pro team. He even bought her a uniform from them and had it delivered to her. Jackson was hoping she’d model it for him and do a few high kicks. He adjusted himself at the thought.

Normally, he wouldn’t risk shitting where he ate, even though, he was already nailing Debbi regularly. But he knew Dolly wouldn’t say a damned thing. She had a secret. She’d lied on her application. He only found out about it when he hired an escort from Leisure Industries last week. Normally, Jackson didn’t have to pay for sex.

But he’d wanted something a little different. And he didn’t want all the annoying small talk before and after. So he had asked around and found out that Leisure Industries had a good reputation. The hooker he had hired was a little overpriced, but then again, he got to do what he wanted with her and didn’t get any lip. As he was leaving, though, he took a catalog off the broad’s coffee table. It was an old one from a few years ago, but Jackson figured it would be good spank material. And who knew, maybe he could get a discount if he chose an older model.

Well, he had been damned surprised to see a familiar face. Unfortunately, she had been fully dressed but the little black number she had been posing in gave him such a kick stand, he immediately had to pay the chick he was with overtime for a blow job so he could drive home in peace.

Smart-mouthed, big tits Dolly Keller had been a prostitute, and shocker—she had never disclosed that on her job application. Here at the UPRC, they had a firm morality clause that he would use as a reason to fire her tight ass if Dolly wasn’t nice to him. Real nice to him.

And if she didn’t want to cooperate and decided to make trouble for him, Jackson had a surefire plan to discredit the little slut. He would say that she came on to him and wanted him to be her sugar daddy, and when he nobly refused her wanton advances, she made up false accusations about him.

After all, who was everyone going to believe? The respected CEO of the rodeo or a former cum slut?

Jackson couldn’t wait to tell Dolly all about her new duties, which would start with her on her knees in front of him.

When Jackson’s office door was kicked open, it disrupted the boner he had been thinking of stroking to take the edge off.

“Get the fuck out of here,” he growled as two grubby-looking men stormed in. “I don’t need you today.”

“Where’s our money?”

“For what?” He hadn’t needed their services in a while now.

“We’ve come to collect.”

“At least close the fucking door,” Jackson snarled, realizing the goons weren’t here to earn some extra cash bashing heads for him.

“You’re late with your payment.”

Jesus Christ. They were working for his supplier over the border. “I don’t believe this shit. I’ve got to have time to sell the product.”

“That’s not how it works.” The bigger of the two goons got in his face.

“You tell Bedier…” Jackson started to say, but the goon slugged him hard in the gut.

It dropped him to his knees. Pain short-circuited everything in his brain and body. He retched up his jelly doughnut and struggled to breathe. He’d kill them for this. He’d kill all of them.

“Half upon order.” The big goon followed up with a short kick to his face.

Fireworks exploded behind his eyes. Jackson rocked back, clutching his broken nose.

“And the other half upon delivery.” The next kick was to his groin.

Black and red colors hammered into his brain. He couldn’t breathe. He was nothing but a streak of misery. He was going to pass out. He was going to die. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a tortured moan. Coiling into a fetal position, Jackson rocked back and forth trying to ease the screaming agony that battered into him with every breath.

“The goods were delivered last week. Where’s the money?”

“I’ll…” Jackson tried to suck in air. Tried to talk around the blood that was streaming down his throat.

“You’ll wire it by this afternoon, or we’ll be back. We won’t be as agreeable as we are now,” the smaller of the two goons said, sweeping a hand across Jackson’s desk and knocking everything on the floor. “Do better next time. Or it will be the last shipment you ever get.”

“The last shipment you’ll be alive to get,” the bigger goon clarified. They kicked him a few more times to make sure he got the message.

As Jackson shook on the floor, the two goons rifled through the rest of his office. They took his personal stash of blow and all the money in his wallet and in his special drawer in his desk.

“This is for our trouble,” the smaller man said, fanning the bills out and waving them at Jackson. “It doesn’t cover what you owe Bedier.”

And then they thankfully left, closing the door behind them.

Needless to say, when Dolly Keller walked in a few minutes later, he wasn’t in any condition for a blow job. And her piercing scream was like a nail through his eye.