Fraud: A Stepbrother Romance (10 page)

Tanner was shooting at us from the
Mercedes!

He was firing some kind of machine gun,
but it looked like a pistol.

Maybe one of those Glocks?

I could hear people screaming, at Peg’s
body under the bus, and from the gunfire. They were running all over the place,
and diving for cover behind bushes and into stores.

A police officer came around the side of
the parking garage, and ran towards Tanner, weapon drawn, but he was shot and
fell down. I saw him moving, rolling under a bench, and grabbing at his radio.
I prayed he was wearing a bullet-proof vest.

“Move it!” Derek shouted.

The man called Randy spun out and drove
away from Bayside, as Tanner came flying after us.

The Mercedes smashed across the sidewalk
and almost hit an old lady pushing a shopping cart! She’d jumped back out of
path of the car, just in time.

Tanner drove up the ramp to I-95, and then
he was out of sight.

“This is Alpha One Romeo,” Randy said.

I noticed he was wearing a Bluetooth
headset.

“We have a black Mercedes-Benz, license
tag BCD-104, northbound on I-95. Suspect is armed and dangerous, likely a Glock
18, suppressed. May have other weapons as well,” he spoke into the microphone.

“Aren’t you going to call an ambulance for
Margaret? For Peg?” I asked.

Derek shook his head.

I was shaking all over.

Derek was alive!

Oh, thank you, God!

My love was here with me!

I grabbed hold of Derek, and hugged him as
tightly as I could manage.

“Derek! Oh, Derek! Thank God you’re all
right!” I cried.

My eyes were flowing tears, of joy!

My Derek was alive!

Then, I started to sob.

There was nothing I could do to stop it.

Derek hugged me tenderly, but firmly.

I never wanted to let him go.

Ever again.

“Shhhh! Baby, it’s ok! You’ll be ok,
Megan,” he said.

His voice was very soothing, almost
hypnotic.

I felt myself getting warm.

Suddenly, I remembered the horrible visage
of Peg being mowed down by the bus.

I gulped and then began to cry loudly.

The poor woman never knew what hit her.

“Oh my God! Poor Peg!” I cried.

“Where’s your gun?” Derek asked.

“In my purse,” I replied, still sobbing.

I must have reflexively dumped it in
there, when Peg had been hit.

Derek reached over, and rummaged through
my purse.

He pulled out the airsoft gun.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he said.

It came out angry, as if I had done
something very stupid and wrong.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he
asked.

“Don’t you know could have gotten yourself
killed!” he shouted at me.

His face was pale, and I think he was more
scared than I was.

“I just wanted to scare Tanner off! I
didn’t think he’d try to kill us!” I said.

I finally saw what he meant, and that’s
when everything came into sharp focus.

I was short of breath, and my eyes started
to dim with tunnel vision.

I began to shake all over, and couldn’t
stop this time.

“Randy, we still have the emergency
blanket?” Derek said.

“It’s in the glove compartment, amigo,”
said the man named Randy.

Derek opened a package and then wrapped me
in some kind of tin foil wrap.

“Here, baby, put this around you, for
warmth,” he said.

I felt like a baked potato.

But, I got warmer, and the shakes were
going away.

Maybe I was having a shock reaction?

As we drove, Randy and Derek spoke to each
other in some kind of professional shorthand.

These guys are fucking SEALs, I thought.

The baddest of bad asses.

It made me feel a lot better, and I
decided that I was probably in good hands.

That made me think of Derek’s hands, which
I peeked at.

They were rugged, yet held me tenderly.

I could feel myself getting wet.

In spite of all this awfulness, being this
close to Derek was awakening my old feelings.

“Any pursuit? More vehicles?” he said to
Randy.

“Negative. And, Tanner ditched the
Mercedes off 112th, and is gone. They think he might have gone onto a boat in
the canal over there,” said Randy.

“Or maybe he’s headed out to the airport,”
Derek said.

I perked up.

I knew where that fucker was going!

I tried to speak, but my thoughts kept
intruding.

Derek, Peg, Derek, King, Derek…

My mind whirled, visions of me fucking
Derek mixing with Peg’s head bursting like a watermelon, King’s leering grin,
Tanner’s eyes as he shot at us, the cop getting shot in the chest…

I heard myself intone words, but their
meaning eluded me.

“King has a Sikorsky S-76,” I said,
sounding like a robot for some reason.

I recited the information I had seen on
the safety card, because it made me calm.

I wanted to scream.

“It seats eight, and has the capability
for a water landing. The flotation devices are under the leather seats.”

I continued, feeling like the world’s
worst flight attendant.

“There is a red handle for exiting the
aircraft in case of an emergency. Only people who are physically capable of
operating the latch should be seated by the window…” I droned on.

Derek ignored me, and talked with Randy
for a few minutes.

They spoke to their commander, I guess,
because someone kept replying to them.

Derek spoke into a headset, that he’d put
on at some point.

My head leaned against his strong
shoulder.

I could smell his sweat, and the heat in
the truck, and Randy and the leather of my purse.

My senses seemed hyper alert.

I could hear the tiny noises of the air
conditioning fan motor, and the whirl of the tires on the road.

My own heartbeat…

“This is Alpha One Romeo, there is a
strong indicator that suspect may be fleeing to the Miami International
Airport. I need a manifest of all helicopters, specifically the Sikorsky S-76
and variants, business-class, that are currently inbound, outbound, or
stationed there, over,” said Randy into the headset.

“King’s chopper is black, with orange
trim,” I said.

Then, I snapped to attention.

“Derek, oh, Derek!” I cried.

“I’m so confused, right now! How can you
be here?” I asked.

Derek grabbed my chin and tilted my head
up, so that I could look into his eyes.

I saw the love there, but I was still too
unsure of our situation to commit to anything.

“Megan, I missed you,” he said.

He leaned over and gave me a brotherly
kiss on the tip of my nose.

And something broke loose…

*****

I grabbed Derek by his hair and kissed
him. Hard.

Pulling him close to me, my tits pressed
against his strong, muscular chest, I devoured his mouth.

My tongue leaped out of my mouth, feeling
around his lips and the stubble on his chin before diving into him.

He seemed startled, but only for a second,
and then his tongue was in me.

We licked and sucked on each other, our
saliva mingling with our tears and sweat.

Randy cleared his throat, politely letting
us know he was still there.

He gave us some kind of weird look, his
eyebrow raising.

I ignored him, kissing Derek even harder.

Derek grabbed my hair, his fingers winding
deep into its folds, as he leaned into me.

I could feel myself nearing orgasm,
already, and I began to make the moans I knew so well from my self-pleasure.

Derek sucked my tongue, stroking it with
his teeth.

I plunged my own tongue deep into his
mouth, again and again as I came, my hips gyrating and pulsing.

I felt his heat against my cheek.

I reached down to grab his cock, and he
was rock hard for me.

My nipples felt like they were going to
tear themselves free from my heaving chest and shoot into his mouth, feeling
his warm lips and his tongue swirling across them until he plunged his tongue
into my… what the fuck?

Derek was pushing me away!

He was on fire, I could tell.

He blazed with passion, and I couldn’t
help but notice that his huge cock was hard and erect underneath his blue
jeans.

I wanted to wrap my aching pussy around
it, or have him shove it all the way down my throat, so I could empty his
balls, and drink all his milky cum.

My own nipples were poking out from the
sheer fabric of my blouse.

And that lacy, tan bra begged to be unclasped,
to release my tits for Derek’s use, as I gasped my pleasure at having been
ravaged by this giant man.

I wanted to just tell Randy to stop the
truck so I could throw him into the bed of the truck and fuck Derek’s brains
out.

But, suddenly, there were more pressing
matters to which to attend.

*****

Randy drove down 112 to the airport, the
Metrorail on the north keeping pace with the F-150 as he sped along the toll
road. He roared down the off ramp, going off-road past a line of cars trying to
exit. We spun around in some mud, and knocked over a barricade, as the truck
blew through the traffic signals.

I kept wondering when a Miami-Dade police
car was going to chase us down, but there weren’t any following.

Randy got to the far west end of the airport,
where the warehouses were stationed, and pulled into the parking ramp leading
to Building 706. He raced around the tight spiral ramp to the roof.

Derek and Randy jumped from the cab of the
truck, and sprinted along the parking area.

“There he is!”  shouted Derek, pointing at
a black S-76 that was parked next to a huge 747 cargo jet.

“Call for backup!” said Randy.

“Roger, that!” said Derek, and he thumbed
a button on his headset.

“Alpha Hawk, meet us west end of MIA,
vector forty-five, runway two seven,” he said.

I couldn’t hear the response, but suddenly
Derek reached behind the seats of the truck, and came out with two short
rifles.

“Randy, here!” he yelled, and Randy caught
one of the guns on the fly.

“Megan, stay here!” he shouted at me as he
and Randy went running across the lot.

They raced to the stairway, and leapt
three stairs at a time down to the ground floor.

Ignoring Derek, I followed as best I
could, and saw them run into the Air Cargo offices.

They burst through a door marked “Secure
Area. Authorized Personnel Only” and into the warehouse, guns held at the
ready.

They had some kind of badge on a lanyard
around their necks.

I pushed past all the confused people,
trying to keep up with them, but they had outrun me in seconds.

“Hey!” yelled the security guard as I ran
past.

“I’m with them!” I screamed back, but he
stopped me from going further.

Suddenly, I heard gunfire.

People came streaming out of the
warehouse, panicked and yelling to get down.

A few stray bullets shot into the walls behind
us, and one window shattered.

I heard the helicopter engines revving up,
and hot air and dust whooshed into the warehouse doors, blowing papers and
debris all around.

There were about a hundred gurneys, all
marked “USPS International POST” on them.

This was a post office? I thought.

Who knew?

Amid all the flying dust, I sputtered,
trying to see what had happened.

In a few minutes, Derek walked back in,
cradling his weapon.

Randy was beside him, swearing up a storm.

“This fucking close, Derek! This close!
God damn it!” he roared.

He had a cut on his forehead, and a small
rivulet of blood ran down his cheek.

“You’re bleeding, man,” said Derek.

Randy swiped at it with his hand, smearing
it.