The Rage Mystery Series Bundle by Brent Pilkey

Author:Brent Pilkey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery
Publisher: ECW Press
Published: 2011-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

Wednesday, 14 March

1437 hours

Jesse Polan was horny.

If there was one thing worse than needing some crack and not being able to find a dealer, which rarely happened in Jesse’s neighbourhood, it was being horny with no one to fuck. Jesse wasn’t just a bit horny, he was that blue balls, gonna explode kind of horny. The kind of horny he only experienced when indulging in some particularly fine rock. And he had scored some exceptionally fine crack yesterday, not as good as that Black stuff on the streets last summer, but pretty damn good. He’d also been able to afford half an eight-ball thanks to a couple of easy house breaks. He had spent all of last night high with enough rock at hand so that every time he felt himself coming down all he had to do was light up and he was back to feeling fine.

But he had woken up this morning — or was it afternoon? — with a fucking giant case of blue balls. After a quick hit to get him started, he headed out, looking to get fucked. He hoped to run into what’s-her-name with the green hair. She was skinny as shit with a couple of lumps she called tits but could she ever suck a dick. Fuck! He was getting hard just thinking about her. When he found her, he’d offer to share what was left of the half eight-ball if she came back to his room. That would be fucking fine. Nothing like fucking on crack. He was so hard it felt like he had a steel pipe shoved down his jeans.

Jesse stepped out onto the rickety front porch and paused to pull at his dick, trying to find a comfortable position. On the sidewalk, a woman pushing a baby stroller saw him and frowned.

“What the fuck you looking at, bitch? You wanna suck it?” Jesse unzipped and the woman hurried off. He laughed at her fleeing back. “Bitch prob’ly never saw one as big as mine.” Fuck, yeah, he was feeling fine!

He zipped up, careful not to snag the equipment and pulled his jacket tight. Still fucking chilly. “Thought it was s’posed to be spring. Fuck.” But not even the brisk air could dampen his mood. He had a good coat, army surplus, with lots of pockets to hide things. It was fucking warm and kick-ass black. Jesse liked black. It was tough, cool. Fucking kick-ass fine.

That green-haired chick — what was her name? Linda? Leslie? Fuck her name — usually hung out around Queen and Sherbourne, so Jesse headed south on Sherbourne, following in the steps of the cocksucking bitch with the stroller, though he had already forgotten her. As he was about to cross Shuter Street, who did he spot but the green-haired whore. She was working the corner over on Seaton. One glimpse of her lime spikes and he was steel-hard again. He crossed Sherbourne, his dick leading him like a blood-pumped divining rod.

She was watching the cars cruising by and didn’t see Jesse until he was beside her.

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