Shoshanna Evers - The Pulse

She looked up at him and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down on the bed for a kiss. “That’s what you’re for.”

Her lips tasted so sweet, so wonderful, he could easily get lost in her kiss. But it wasn’t fair to let her think he’d be here when he’d probably have to leave her in three days. Pulling back, he disentangled himself from her embrace awkwardly, leaving her sitting on the bed with a hurt look on her face.

“They’re all waiting for you,” he said softly. She nodded and got up, leaving him without another glance back.

Grand Central Terminal

JENNA

Jennaand Taryn were alone in the subway car on the Tracks with the soldier. He tore his shirt off after he had told Jenna it was her turn to grab the bar. Dog tags glowed against his muscular chest in the light of the fire.

Jenna’s pussy got wet when she grasped hold of the cold metal above her head, pushing her breasts toward the soldier.

“Come on, soldier,” she said, “eat my pussy. Show Taryn you’re not as scary as she thinks you are.” Jenna looked over at Taryn, who didn’t look any more at ease now than she had before.

Taryn, naked, her pale skin covered in gooseflesh now, whimpered and sat against the hard seat, looking like she was trying to disappear into the cold orange plastic.

“It’s okay, honey,” Jenna said calmly. She could tell Taryn seemed freaked out by the soldier joining their little performance. “This man—what’s your name, sir?”

The soldier loomed over, at least a foot taller than her. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Okay,” Jenna said. She’d hoped to get the man on friendlier terms, to ease up on the alpha act for Taryn’s sake, even though Jenna thought it was hot. But he wasn’t looking friendly. Even his prick looked menacing, pressing hard against his army pants.

He glanced at Taryn. “Now it’s your turn to watch.”

Taryn jumped up then, as if to save Jenna, but Jenna shook her head. “It’s okay, hon, it’ll be fun,” she said. “We’re gonna have a good time, me and Mister Man over here.”

Taryn shook her head, looking like she wanted to say something but couldn’t. All that came out was a weak mew of terror. Her voice sounded so tiny.

Jenna looked at the soldier, dropping her arms from the metal bar. He still hadn’t touched her, even though her empty cunt ached for relief. “What do you have as payment, sir? Food? Anything?”

He grinned, a scary smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Grab the bar, slut.”

This would have been perfect if it had had been her and the soldier, without Taryn around to worry about. Taryn’ll be fine . No big deal. She’d talk to Taryn after and explain it was no biggie. Let him do it and be done with it so they could get on with their evening. Jenna grabbed the bar, smiling gamely as he slowly unzipped his pants, his cock looking huge and veined.

“You don’t know who I am, do you?” he asked.

Suddenly her instincts shifted into overdrive. Something’s wrong. Something’s very wrong here.

He wrapped his meaty hand around her throat, his menacing gaze boring into her. “You wanna know my name, bitch?”

Don’t panic.

She focused on breathing as his grip on her neck tightened. “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me anything,” she gasped. “But you’re hurting me, please let go of my neck.”

He kept his hand on her neck as if to remind her he was in control. “You really don’t know who I am, do you. You’re even dumber than you look.”

Who was he? Jenna searched his face, but she couldn’t place it. She’d seen him around, she’d seen all the soldiers around. But she’d never serviced him before. She’d remember that.

“I—I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Tell me who you are. Remind me, I’ll remember.”

“I’m Andrews.”

Andrews? But—that was the soldier everyone said Emily killed. That didn’t make any sense. “You can’t be Andrews,” she squeaked. “Andrews is dead.”

“ Eric Andrews,” he said, talking slowly like she was dumb. “The Andrews who is dead is Mike. And I’m Mike Andrews’s brother. You roomed and whored with the cunt who killed my brother, and I’m going to make sure she hears about what I’m about to do to you.”

Oh shit. This wasn’t good. Jenna looked over the soldier’s massive shoulder at Taryn. The other girl, still naked, had a look of crazed fear in her eyes. Her hands trembled as she hefted the soldier’s rifle and pointed it precariously at his back.

“No,” she whispered. “Taryn, don’t. It’s okay.”

Taryn must have heard her but she didn’t listen. “Let her go you son of a bitch!” she screamed, the rifle still pointed at the Eric Andrews’s back.

The soldier ignored her, not even turning around. Taryn looked ready to shoot. But Jenna stood directly in front of him—if Taryn shot him, would the bullet go straight through him and into her? She didn’t know much about guns or bullets, but she knew those army-issued rifles were powerful.

Gasping, Jenna flung her leg forward, kneeing the soldier in the groin. He cursed and dropped his hand from around her throat, reaching his hand back to slap her face as she fell to the floor of the subway car.

A loud shot rang out, deafening in the tiny space.

Eric Andrews’s face went pale and his mouth dropped open like a fish, frothy spittle dripping down his chin from the corner of his mouth. He collapsed forward onto Jenna on the floor.

Jenna groaned as his weight hit her—over two hundred pounds at least.

“Oh my God,” Taryn whispered. “Oh my God, what did I do, what did I do?”

The sound of the shot had all the soldiers in the Tracks running. Within moments a group of men gathered at the door to their subway car. Jenna didn’t know what they expected to find, but a small naked woman holding one of their rifles and one of their own troops dead on top of a whore probably wasn’t it.

Jenna scrambled, trying to get out from under Andrews’s deadweight. Two soldiers came to her aid. No, she realized. Not to her aid. They were trying to save the soldier, pulling him off her only so they could assess his injuries.

He was dead—dead as his brother.

She looked over at Taryn, who screamed at the top of her lungs as the soldiers grabbed the gun from her shaking hands and picked her naked body up, dragging her out of the car.

“I had to do it!” Taryn screamed.

One of the soldiers saw Jenna and grabbed her arm as well.

Taryn shook her head wildly. “Don’t touch her, she didn’t do anything wrong,” she sobbed. “It was all me. I killed him, she told me not to but she couldn’t stop me.”

Tears filled Jenna’s eyes as her friend tried to save her for the second time that evening.

“We’re taking you to Colonel Lanche,” one of the soldiers said, looking down at Taryn with disgust. “He’ll take care of you.”

“Please, please don’t do that,” Jenna said. “He’ll have her executed.”

“She deserves to be executed—she’s a murderer, like your other friend, Emily. Something has to be very wrong with you,” the soldier said thoughtfully, looking at his fallen comrade, “for you to hang out with these fucked-up chicks.”

“Please,” Jenna begged, falling to her knees, “don’t let him kill her for this. She was trying to protect me.”

Taryn cried so hard she looked like she could barely breathe, and her naked flesh shivered in the light of the garbage fire. Jenna picked up her oversized T-shirt and sweat pants and went over to her friend as she struggled weakly in the soldier’s arms.

“Let me dress her,” Jenna said. “Please.”