Jordan jumped as the door opened suddenly. The giant strode in.
"What do you want?" Jordan asked tremulously.
The man smiled and said nothing. He sat next to her on the bed.
"Does Casey ride you like you need?" he asked.
"What?" Jordan asked.
"Does he pound you like an animal?" he asked. His hand stroked her thigh. "I know I would."
"You don't know what you're talking about," Jordan said tightly. She pulled her leg away.
The man's arm arced across her body and trapped her against the bed. Jordan scooted back against the headboard. The man's other hand pressed against her ribcage and stroked down across her waist.
Jordan shoved back at the man. He didn't budge. He pressed down on her shoulder, pinning her flat against the bed. Jordan tried to squirm away, but the man held her flat. His hand slid upward toward her chest.
Casey POV:
Casey had almost found his quarry.
He'd just driven into Eagle Gulch, the small town Krade's cabin sat just outside of. His fuel light was blinking insistently, and he pulled into a gas station. He filled his tank and headed inside.
A slobby clerk stood behind the counter. The only other people in the store were three young men lurking next to some lurid magazines. As Casey started to pay, one of them interrupted him.
"Hey, Grandpa, you new in town?" he called as he walked toward Casey. "You gotta pay the tax around here. You wouldn't want any trouble?"
He pulled out a switchblade and clicked the knife into place. His companions flanked him.
Casey looked at the man silently.
"Oh, I wouldn't want to disturb the peace," he said. "Let's just see what I've got here." He reached toward his pocket.
The lead punk snickered and held out his hand expectantly. Casey's hand clamped around it and twisted it violently. The punk screamed and dropped the knife. His companions leapt forward to defend him.
As the leader doubled over, Casey slammed his knee into his nose. The man flew backward and fell heavily on his back.
"Get him!" he barked after sucking in a wet breath.
The other two punks charged at Casey. Casey rammed his pointed fingers into the first man's throat and flipped the other one into the nearest shelf. The first man recovered first and launched a punch at Casey. Casey dodged to the side, waited until the man leaned back for another blow, and smashed him backwards. He half-flipped through the air and slammed onto the ground, where he lay without moving.
Casey turned his attention to the punk who was rising from a pile of broken bottles and merchandise. The punk grabbed a shard and waved it wildly at Casey. Casey snatched his hand and squeezed until blood gushed and a bone cracked. The man fell to his knees and screamed. Casey grabbed a bottle off the shelf and smashed it over his head. The man slumped to the ground.
The lead punk was just getting to his feet as Casey turned around. He searched the floor for his knife and saw it was behind Casey. He looked at his friends and back at Casey. Then he ran out the back door.
Casey watched him go. Then he turned to the man behind the counter, paid for his gas, and laid down an extra bill for the bottle.
"It's worth every penny," he said.
Jordan POV:
Jordan tried vainly to push the man's hand away. Then she heard a door slam open.
Krade jerked up with a scowl and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He stormed to the front door to see one of his dealers holding a bloody nose and panting.
"What is it?" Krade demanded.
"Some idiot just blew into town and tore us all up," the man said. "You should go show him who owns this place."
Krade's eyes narrowed.
"Call your boys. I have a job for you," he said.
The man scuttled away.
Casey, Krade thought. I've waited a long time for this. Time to die.