Bulky & Beauteous

Chapter 2-1

Chapter 2

The shrill ring of my phone woke me from a dead sleep. I was dreaming about the hottie I’d seen at the bar, his hands wandering over me like they owned my body. I was wet, hot damn, was I wet. There was nothing I wanted more than to finish that dream, but unfortunately, duty called.

Literally.

I didn’t even have to look at the phone to know who was calling me. It was 4 am, closing time. Which meant I had another pick up to make.

“Where are you?” I whispered into the phone, desperate not to wake Sam up. She was a light sleeper and usually rode with me, but I always felt bad. It wasn’t her responsibility.

“Addi! Can you come get me?” the whiney voice penetrated what was left of my sleepiness and I was suddenly wide awake. That tone catapulted me back to the first time she’d called, scared and alone and needing me. In high school it scared me more than I ever admitted to anyone. I thought for sure my parents would kill me for sneaking out of the house, but she was my sister, and I couldn’t leave her.

“Where are you, Cass?” I said as I pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.

Cassandra was four years younger than me and had always been a party girl. That first phone call came when I was only a junior in high school, just a few weeks after I’d gotten my license. Cassandra snuck out to a party and got so high she didn’t know which way was up. Yeah, she was 13. It was the most terrifying night of my life. I didn’t know if she was going to survive, but she begged me not to tell our parents.

I’d been covering for her ever since.

“At a party,” the slurred speech came back. “Edge of town. Cold Front Road. I’m cold. Hurry.”

The word hurry always got to me, something Cassandra figured out years before. If she told me to hurry I got anxious that she was in danger and drove even faster to get to her. The sound of that one word falling from her lips always brought me back to the first phone call, and the urgency and panic I felt that night.

Now, 12 years later, I was still jumping at the sound of my sister’s scared voice.

I ducked out of my room, keys in hand, and headed to the front door. As I was slipping on my sneakers I heard Sam’s door open. “Where to tonight?”

“Go back to bed, Sam. You don’t need to deal with this.”

She ignored me, like she always did, and slid her feet into her boots. Sam followed me out the door dutifully, like the best friend she was.

Twenty minutes later we pulled up in front of a house that was clearly the party. People were passed out on the lawn, music poured from the open windows, and yelling could be heard even through the closed car doors. I saw Cassandra draped over a guy who was half dragging her toward his car. He stumbled as he walked, telling me he was almost as messed up as my sister.

Sam and I bolted out the door, barely slamming the car into park before we were gone. I reached Cassandra’s side just as he lowered her into his car.

"What the f**k?" the drunk shouted in my ear. He grabbed my shoulder and turned me roughly, my back slamming into the door frame of his car. Sam grabbed Cassandra's arm and started tugging her out of the car.

"She's not going anywhere with you," I growled at the man who hovered over me. His breath stunk of stale beer and cigarettes, and something else that I'd come to identify as angry male. He was a good eight inches taller than me and used his height to appear more menacing than he probably was. Being drunk helped him feel tougher too, I'd learned from these encounters.

"What do you two fat bitches think you're gonna do about it?" he snarled at me, taking Sam in with his gaze.

Fat bitches. Wow, he was original. Not. In the twelve years I'd been rescuing Cassandra I'd been called everything under the sun, but insulting my weight was the favorite among the drunk or high assholes my sister was always attracted to. It made me wonder what she really thought, but I couldn't go there while I was facing down the latest adversary.

"Well, first, my friend is going to remove my sister from the car. Second, we are going to carry her to my car. And third, we're going to drive away. Through all this you're going to stand aside quietly and let us go."

He laughed loudly, throwing his head back and bellowing like I'd just told him the funniest joke he'd ever heard. Sam and I took advantage of it and had Cass out of the car and standing between us, her arms looped around our shoulders so we could drag her to the car together.

When he finally stopped laughing, he glared at us, his eyes struggling to focus as he looked from Sam to Cass to me. "That b***h promised me a good time. She's not going anywhere until she does all the dirty s**t she said she would."

"She's not even conscious," Sam argued with him, further goading the smug piece of s**t.

"A promise is a promise," he gloated, running his tongue over his slightly yellowed teeth as he checked out my sister. "I don't need her conscious to have fun. I just need a place to shove my d**k. Better yet, maybe I should take you two with us."

He stepped forward, menacing eyes scanning Sam and I from head to toe. We'd been through it before so neither of us was falling for his s**t, but he was big. And scary.

My heart pounded as he took another step and I wound up and brought my knee up hard into his crotch. He stumbled backward, his knees giving out as his hands flew to his balls, checking to see if they were still attached. Sam and I quickly moved past him, stopping only when he screamed at our backs. "I'll get you bitches!"

"If we ever see you again, or hear you've come near her again, your balls will be the least of your concerns. We've been recording this whole interaction, including your license plate number. We ever see you again and every word you just said, like how you don't need a conscious woman to enjoy yourself, just a hole, will become public record. I'm pretty sure you'd find out what men in prison think about your... hole."

Sam snickered at my words as we d**g Cassandra to the car. The asshole insulted us with very colorful language but didn't get up from the ground. Once we had Cass laid out in the backseat, Sam and I got in the car and I started breathing again.

"Thanks," I said to her as I pulled away from the curb.

"Any time. You know we really do need to start recording these assholes one of these days. At least snapping a pic of the license plate just in case."

I laughed and shook my head. The men my sister picked up were always afraid to get reported. Once Sam and I figured out that threatening them with calling the cops made them back off, we did it every time. Of course my knee meeting their nuts helped, too.