Day five was here, but three pounds of unsold product remained. Since the incidents in Mark’s apartment and after, barely any conversation occurred between step-daughter and step-father. Enough to indicate she needed to make drop-offs or to nightclubs for networking purposes, but that was it. Otherwise, Frankie’s frustrations with online gaming or Bill berating television and movie protagonists were the only words spoken.

“Hey, um, could you give me a ride to meet Dante at the abandoned cabin?” Her speech barely rose above a murmur.

His response?

An affirmative nod.

***

They parked in the same spot as before, and a young lady also exited like last time – albeit a lithe, black, natural-haired woman on this day whom Frankie took photos of. After she drove off in her hatchback, Frankie’s phone buzzed, and she thumbed a message back before cracking the door open.

“He’s going to be okay with you not selling all of that stuff?” Bill asked, resting his arm around the top of the passenger seat.

“Not really sure. I think he will. I gotta see when I talk to him. Be right back.” Frankie jumped down and toddled towards the cabin.  The door opened before she reached the top of the steps, prompting her to pause for a moment, and then proceed. After a minute, she peeked out and waved Bill to come over, which made him breathe deeply, and exit the comfort of his jeep. When they entered together, there stood Dante – smacking chewing gum –adorned in a black leather jacket and jet-black hair that was slicked back with side-burns. His initial focus was on Frankie, but it then shifted to Bill.

“Who the fuck are you?” Dante asked, placing his hands akimbo.

“Excuse me?” Bill pushed forward an ear with his hands behind his back.

“Dante…” Frankie interjected, “Come on, you said you’d be cool.”

“Hey, I’m talking to him, not you. So, once aga–”

“Why is that even important?” Bill asked.

Dante drew a nine-millimetre pistol from his waist and stepped to Bill, planting the muzzle against his forehead. Frankie shivered and mouthed, “Oh my God,” before cupping the lower half of her face.

“How about, because I think it fucking is, eh?” Dante clicked the safety off.

“I t-told you,” Frankie stuttered, “He helped me get the stuff around. If not for him, I wouldn’t have sold as much as I did.”

“You didn’t sell all, that’s my problem,” Dante said. “And now you’re involving people I know nothing about into my business.”

“Hey, look, I’m her step-dad, alright.” Bill stood still to the point it appeared he wasn’t even breathing. “I’m just helping her out, that’s all, but if you don’t want me t–”

“Oh no-no-no. You’re fine. You’re fine.”  Dante clicked on the safety and tucked his firearm into his pants’ waist by the hip. “My apologies, just that I get a lil antsy when too many unknowns are flying around; know what I’m saying?” Dante waved his hands about his head and chuckled, which Bill echoed but without the same glee in his eyes. While this was going on, Bill looked several feet past Dante and saw an open trap door. In the floor opening was a black bag – or suitcase – with what appeared to be cash sticking out of it. After this discovery, Bill shifted his gaze to avoid Dante noticing what he noticed.

“You should have a holster,” Bill said.

“What’re you talkin’ about?”

“A holster, you know? Keeping it in your waist ca–”

“You let me worry about how I carry my hardware, aight?” Dante smirked and tapped Bill’s shoulder.

“Alright...” Bill put up a hand and nodded.

“Okay, here’s what I want.” Dante looked over to Frankie, and she stood at attention. “I want the last three pounds sold by midnight tonight. I’ll call at that time and arrange to meet for the rest of the money.”

“And I get my twenty percent, right?” Frankie rocked on her heels and toes.

“Yes, sweetie.” Dante walked over to her, held her shoulders, and kissed her. “You’ll get it.”

As Frankie passed, Dante swatted her butt, and she giggled before leaving with Bill. When they got back into the jeep, he squinted at her and shook his head.

“What?” she asked.

“What happens if you don’t get that last three pounds sold?” Bill swung the engine and nosed out of the brush. Frankie’s response was a barely audible whisper.

“I didn’t hear what you said,” he responded.

“I… I don’t know, okay.”

“Is he the type that would, well...?” Bill pointed gun fingers at her and flicked his wrist upward.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to do, and I have no one else to sell to.”

They drove in silence for a few more minutes, until Frankie sat up straight, and a smile stretched her little face. Bill glanced over and cringed at her grin.

“The hell’s the matter with you? Why are you smiling like that?”

“Does Scott smoke weed?”

“My co-worker you screwed? Don’t you talk to him anymore?”

“Not since that night.”

“Hmmm, well… ”

“What? What is it?” Frankie turned to Bill; her eyes widened, and her mouth opened, awaiting news.

“I did hear him talk to some of the others in the office about how he smoked occasionally in college, but hasn’t done it since.”

“That’s it. He’s our buyer.”

“I don’t understand.”

“For everything. He’s going to take the rest of this off our hands.”

“Really? And why would he do that?”

“Remember that video you recorded?”

Bill nodded, and Frankie unfastened her bottoms.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked.

“You’ll see. Give him a call.” Frankie’s bottoms graced the floor, and she snapped selfies with her legs spread and splaying pink. Burst shots caught her fingering herself and sucking the juices from her digits. When she had enough of that, she turned on the recording feature and spoke to her intended audience.

“It’s been a while, so let me give you a little inspiration to see me again.” She sucked her index and middle fingers, then glided them over her nipples which hardened immediately. Next, she rubbed her curly, pubic patch before folding her fingers inside to a gasp. Slow and steady initial frigging soon quickened, and the sopping effect increased in volume the longer she went.

“Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck.” Her face scrunched into the camera, reddening as her fingering digits were a blur, leaking fluid onto the passenger seat. “Please, Scott. I want you to fuck me sooo bad. Oh fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum for you, Scott. Fuck!”

She stared blankly past the camera as her body jerked around in the leather seat, her mouth formed a zero, and she pursed her lips for a final, “fuck.” The recording ended promptly after.

“Jesus Christ, Frankie.” Sweat beads dotted Bill’s forehead as he was between the road and the action next to him.

“Bill,” Frankie panted.

“Yes?”

“Call him.”

***

The drive to Scott’s home took less than thirty minutes. They parked on the adjoined curb, and Bill walked up to be greeted by a grinning Scott, opening the door of his one storey suburban home.

“Hey, Bill. What can I do for ya?”

“Sorry for the sudden visit, but I really wanted to talk in person.”

Scott’s phone vibrated, and he faced it towards him.

“Sorry about this. I was in a pretty deep convo before you got here; just gimme a sec.” Scott reviewed the messages he received and held down a button at the side before thumbing his phone screen. “Know what, I’ll check that video out later.”

“You should probably check it out now. Get it over with, ya know?”

“Nah, I shouldn–”

“Scott, play the video.”

Scott’s brows furrowed, and he swallowed before saying, “Bill?”

“Just play it, will ya, son?”

Scott hit play, turned the volume up by two notches, and a video of a fully-clad Frankie speaking came on. She said, “Look over to Bill’s jeep.”

Scott peeked up at Bill, to his phone, and then to the jeep. At that moment, the passenger window descended halfway to expose a grinning Frankie waving at him like the Queen of England.