Read Online High Life by Matthew Stokoe - Free Book Online

tum-tum. Looks like after she was gutted someone relieved themselves at close range. Know what I’m saying?”
    “Me, I suppose?”
    “I’m hoping. But I tell you what, Jackie, I’m a guy who tries to see all sides of a problem, you know, consider all possibilities. So I’m gonna give you a chance to settle the spunk aspect.”
    “Er … how?”
    I had a feeling something bad was coming, and it did.
    “We got come in her guts. The obvious step, obvious to me, anyhow, is get a sample from you.”
    “Sure, anything to help the investigation. What do I have to do, give some blood?”
    “I’m kinda picky about these kinda things. We find spunk, we should match it against spunk. Call me old-fashioned.”
    “You’re kidding.”
    “I’m giving you a chance.”
    “Jesus, all right … Where do I go?”
    “Shit, Jackie, I don’t want to put you to any trouble. You can do it right here.”
    “Are you serious?”
    “It’s up to you. Of course, if you refuse it’s gonna be difficult for me not to draw the obvious conclusion.”
    “You want me to jerk off in the car?”
    “Why not?”
    “No way. This is too weird …”
    “Say, have I shown you my gun?”
    Ryan leaned over on one side of his ass and pulled a short revolver out of a belt holster. The metal was dull. It looked well used. He twisted it in the cabin light.
    “Thirty-eight. Not as powerful as the Glocks the young guys carry, but it does its job. Know how many people I’ve killed with it? Enough so I have to use my toes to count.”
    “This is like a subtle threat, right?”
    “When I was fucking her I used to wonder what her old man was like, what I was competing with, so to speak. Turns out he’s a worthless fuck who won’t even cooperate solving her murder. I got two reasons to shoot you, Jack. First, it would close the case. You tried to escape—you musta been guilty. Second, I’d just like to do it. Now, if I was a guy sitting next to a guy like me, I wouldn’t be arguing over a couple of teaspoons of love juice. Get my meaning?”
    “Okay, okay … Will you at least get out while I do it?”
    “Can’t. Sorry. You might contaminate the sample in some way—cigarette ash, say. And I don’t want to have to do this all over again. Here, you can use this.”
    Ryan took a plastic pharmacy jar from his pocket and handed it to me. It was a safe bet that no cop on a bona fide investigation was going to collect evidence like this. But there wasn’t much I could do. His gun was pointing in my direction and I’d already painted myself into a corner by lying about the tattoo. So … I got my dick out.
    The starter bone from the tramp was long gone and getting hard was an impossible task. I rubbed for a while and tried to think of something dirty, but Ryan staring at me made it difficult to concentrate.
    “I can’t do it with you watching.”
    “Sure you can, you just need a kick-start.”
    He took a photo from his inside pocket and held it out. It showed a rear-end view of a naked young woman, face down on a concrete floor, knees drawn up under her chest, arms thrown stiffly out to each side. The angle of the shot made it possible to see the blood that had run out of her mouth and pooled around her head. She had a crowbar sticking out of her ass.
    “Gang killing. South Central squadies like to pass these things around. Kinda erotic, huh?”
    Despite the sickness of the subject, Ryan was right. The flat, pitiless quality of the lighting, the thick flesh of her cunt, the violated anus—all combined to produce something that made my head swim. The horror of it drew me out of the world for a while, blocked out Ryan long enough for me to pump up.
    After that it only took a minute to spurt into the jar. There was a lot and some of it missed and splatted against the dash. The intensity of the orgasm surprised me, but as soon as it was over I felt disgusted. Being watched while you wank is as bad as taking a shit in front of someone.
    “That’s