Born Bad - Part 4
#4 of Born Bad
The Jorgensons, the family of jaguars who lived on the fourth floor of the same apartment building as the Mortensons, returned to find that their home had been broken into. Young Jimmy cried hysterically when he was that his Nintendo and all the games were long gone, and Mr. Jorgenson was furious when he discovered that the stack of twenties he was going to use to pay the rent was gone, along with his coin collection and his wife's jewelry. Violated, furious, and wanting answers, the male jaguar called the police and filed a robbery report. He had little hope that he would ever see any of those things again, but needed to file the report before he could file a claim with his renter's insurance carrier.
The police came and knocked on several doors of the building, asking anyone if they knew anything about the break in robbery at the Jorgenson's fourth floor apartment. Like usual, everyone was at work, asleep, and all the kids were a few blocks away playing in one of the city's many public pools. It was a pointless exercise in futility, but the cops had to do it. It was there job.
Knocking on the door of the Mortenson apartment, the cops had no idea what kind of people really lived behind that door. They would have never guessed that one of the actual perpetrator's of the crime was home, and in bed screwing his mother at that time. They were utterly clueless about the church robbery, the beatings, the muggings. It was just another apartment they were knocking on.
"Hello?" answered Marv, sticking his muzzle through the door.
"Police officers, son," said one of the two German Shepherd officers standing outside the apartment. "We'd like to ask you some questions."
"Sure," said the wolf in his sweetest, most helpful tone. He unlocked the door and slid outside before shutting the door once more. He'd been instructed by his late father that if you ever had to speak with the police at your home, go outside and shut the door. If you left the door hanging open, the cops would take that as an invitation to come in and anything they saw out in plain sight that might be incriminating, they were free to use as evidence against you. Marv wasn't about to let them see the Nintendo and all the games sitting beside it.
"How can I help you officers?" asked Marv innocently.
"You know the Jorgenson family up on the fourth floor?" the first cop asked him.
"Yeah," said Marv. "The boy is friend's with my brother."
"Is that so," grumbled the other cop, scribbling something down on his notepad. "Your brother home right now?"
"No, sir," said Marv, shaking his head. "He's at church right now."
"Oh," said the officer. "Okay. Have you seen or heard anything lately? Anything out of the ordinary?"
"Not that I can recall, sir," answered Marv.
"Your upstairs neighbors had their apartment broken into while they were out of town visiting family. You know anything about that?"
"No, sir," said Marv. "I've just been sitting at home watching television or going to the store for my Mom. That's my usual day."
"Is your mother here right now?" asked the second cop.
"Ah, no, sir," replied Marv. "She's at work and won't be home until much later tonight."
"Alright," said the first cop, reaching into his shirt pocket. "If you think of anything that could be helpful, you give me a call at this number anytime, okay?"
Marv looked at the business card thoroughly. "Yes, sir. I'll do just that if I think of anything."
The cops both smiled at him, with the first cop saying. "I wish more kids could be polite like you are, son."
"Thank you, sir," said Marv with a smile. The young wolf waved goodbye to the two cops. Making sure they were both out of sight, he opened the apartment door, went back inside and shut it once more. Looking at the card with disgust, he threw it on the coffee table. The young wolf walked back to his mother's room, where Brenda was lying naked and waiting for her oldest boy.
"Who was that?" she asked.
"The cops," said Marv, pulling off his clothes.
"What did they want?"
"Ask questions about the Jorgenson's apartment being broken into," answered Marv.
Brenda looked at the silver bracelet on her nightstand. "Thanks for that by the way."
"Sure," said Marv, pulling off the last of his clothes and climbing on top of his mother. "Now where were we?"
Brenda took hold of her son's erect member, guiding it into her eagerly awaiting pussy. "We were right here!"
Marv felt the familiar, and always welcome sensation of his dick being shoved into his mother's pussy. He grunted, wanted to fill his mother with his cum for the fourth time that day. Though Brenda let Sean use her in the same manner as Marv, there was something far more satisfying to the she wolf about letting her thirteen year old Marv fuck her so much. He was big, tall, strong and had a big cock that she was teaching him to use for her pleasure. Leaning her head back, she groaned as her son cupped her breasts, fucking her senseless with his well endowed genitals. It was just a normal day in the Mortenson apartment.
Nighttime had come once more over the city. Marv and Sean walked around their little section of the city, seeing the numerous lights, hearing the honking of horns and the occasional gunshot in the background. The temperature had been very pleasant over the past week since the heat wave had finally broken. It was just the right time to go hunting for the Mortenson brothers, and Marv had yet another plan on how to make some quick cash.
"You heard about this crack rock shit?" asked Marv, eating a mustard covered hot dog that he had purchased from a street vendor.
"Yeah," said Sean, whose hot dog was covered in pickle relish and onions. "What about it?"
"I heard it's makin' the dealers tons of money," observed Marv. "Just the thing we want to get in on."
Sean curled his nose at the idea. Even at eleven, he was well aware of the news segments that came on every night talking about how many deaths were related to the crack trade, how many police departments were underfunded and needing additional resources to deal with the problem. Being a crack dealer appeared to come with a very short life expectancy, something that didn't appeal to the young Mortenson boy.
"I don't wanna sell any of that shit, Marv," said Sean. "We'll probably get shot!"
"No, no, no," said Marv, swallowing the last bit of his hot dog. "I don't want us to sell it."
"Then what?" inquired the confused younger wolf.
Marv grinned, pointing down at his belt line as he briefly lifted up his shirt, revealing the wooden grip from the pistol that Marv had taken off the park bathroom victim. Sean got the idea really quick, but thought it risky.
"You wanna rob 'em?" he asked, feeling himself getting queasy from the street vendor hot dog he'd just eaten.
"Yeah," said Marv, putting his shirt back down to avoid attracting attention. "You know how much those guys make in just one fucking day?"
"How much?" asked Sean, his curiosity now piqued.
"Thousands," answered Marv. "I swear, the fucking news reports are like the best kind of education for guys like us, Sean! They keep talking about how cheap crack is, how much you can make selling it. Why go work for minimum wage when you can make real money?"
"You've got a point," said Sean. "You know somebody we can take off?"
"I know just the person," stated the older wolf.
The brothers got on a city bus and rode some twenty blocks away to an area that they were both familiar with. After all, they'd recently hunted there before. Getting off the bus, Sean instantly noticed where they were.
"The park again?" asked Sean. "Shouldn't we be laying low from this place for now?"
"It's the other side of the park," said Marv. "I've been staking this place out for a few weeks now, trying to get a good idea for a plan to take this guy off."
"What guy?"
"That one over there," pointed Marv.
Sean looked in the distance, seeing a black bear in his late teens loitering over by the fountain in the park. Sean was skeptical of his brother's assertion that such a beast was a drug dealer.
"You sure about this?" asked Sean.
"Trust me," assured Marv. "I've been watching him from a safe distance every night for the past week! Beasts come up to him, give him some cash, and he gives them these little baggies filled with crack!"
"The police don't stop him?" asked Sean.
"Fuck no," scoffed Marv. "They're too busy filling out parking tickets and eating donuts. Besides, you don't think some of these guys pay the cops off? Cops make shit for pay!"
Sean was liking the sound of this more and more. Here they were going to get a chance to make thousands of dollars by jumping a drug dealer. This was far more lucrative than robbing churches! The younger wolf listened in as his brother relayed the plan to him.
"Here's what we're going to do: You're going to come up to him with a hundred dollar bill in your paw, telling him you want everything you can get with it. Normally crackheads only buy five or ten bucks worth of rock because they're so fucking broke. He'll be so happy to see that C note, he won't even notice me coming up behind him. Got it?"
"Got it," said Sean, taking the hundred dollar bill from his brother's paw. He watched as Marv ran around the park, flanking the unsuspecting black bear as he would be sneaking up on him. Sean calmed himself, trying to concentrate on the task at hand. He'd never participated in an armed robbery before.
He walked up to the bear . . . . slowly, making sure he was giving Marv plenty of time to get into place. The bear must have heard the young wolf, as he turned his attention towards the source of footsteps. The black bear gave him a dirty look.
"The fuck do you want, bitch?" he asked in a gruff voice.
"Hundred bucks worth," answered Sean, showing him the hundred dollar bill.
"That so?" grinned the bear, pleased to see such a large purchase. "I think I can help you out there. Just need to . . ."
The bear froze mid sentence, hearing the unmistakable metallic click of a pistol's hammer being pulled back. He didn't dare turn around, knowing that he'd get a bullet in his back. He heard a voice whispering to him.
"Freeze, motherfucker!" ordered the voice. "Get your paws up in the air and spread 'em!"
Grumbling, the bear did as he was told, letting Sean pat him down. The younger wolf took him for his drugs, money, and a compact Beretta nine millimeter that Marv told Sean he could have. If they were going to hunt, he should be armed too.
The bear showed his contempt for the two robbers. "Man, fuck you guys! Now that I can't bring that money back to my dealers, they're going to have me whacked!"
"Don't worry," said Marv. "I'll save them the trouble!"
BANG!
Sean and Marv watched as the bear was shot between the eyes, dead before he hit the ground. The younger Mortenson brother hadn't expected this! He looked over at Marv, panicking.
"What'd you do that for?" he asked hysterically.
"No witnesses this way," answered Marv, tucking the .357 magnum back in his belt and covering it with his shirt. He pulled his brother out of sight from the murder scene and the two ran through the park, ending up on the other side. The brothers made sure to keep calm and not run, as they were now under the streetlights. Marv saw a cab and hailed it down. With so much money in their paws, it was far easier and quicker than waiting on the city bus.
"Where to?" asked the driver, a Siberian Husky.
"Bronson Street," answered Marv.
The driver did as he was ordered, going to Bronson street where Marv and Sean lived, but not before they passed several police cars with their flashers on and their sirens sounding away.
"What happened there?" asked Marv.
"Heard it on the radio," answered the Husky. "Looks like some drug dealer got his brains blew out on the other side of the park. Ah, poor bastard."
"That's awful," said Marv. "Did they catch the guys?"
"Not that I heard," responded the driver, turning the corner around the park. "I hope you kids are safe out there this time of night."
"We try to be, sir," answered Sean.
"That's good," said the Husky, cracking a slight smile. "Lots of trash out there in this world, kids. It's a good thing that the world has a couple of polite kids like you to make it a better place!"
Marv and Sean looked at each other, grinning from ear to ear.
The boys arrived home, climbing up the three flights of stairs to their floor. Walking inside, they were greeted to an empty apartment. There was a note on the refrigerator from Brenda saying she'd been called into work and wouldn't be home until early next morning. Marv and Sean saw this as a blessing, as they weren't interested in sharing the spoils of their conquests with their mother anymore, although they still had to give her some to avoid suspicion that they were holding out on her. Someday though, they'd be on their own and could split the proceeds fifty-fifty.
Both the boys lit up cigarettes and got out some beer as they counted up the loot. This was probably their greatest heist ever. Not only did they get over $2,500 in cash, they were now in possession of the remainder of the dead bear's drug stash and Sean now had his very own gun. He didn't want to say anything in front of Marv, but he'd been jealous that his older brother had a gun and he didn't. Now he had his own piece to go hunting with. Marv showed him how to put the magazine in the gun, how to remove it, how to chamber a round and how to make sure the safety was on or off. While this was going on, a certain questioned lingered in the younger wolf's mind.
"Marv?"
"Yeah?"
"What . . . . what was it like . . . killing that bear?"
Marv pulled the cigarette out of his mouth, blowing smoke up at the ceiling. "It was fun, Sean. Did you see how terrified that motherfucker was right before I pumped a round between his eyes? I was the grim fucking reaper tonight!"
Sean listened to his older brother's words, hearing the thrill, the rush he got out of ending the bear's life with his own hands. It took some time, but eventually Sean had to ask the question.
"Can I do it next time?"
"You serious?" asked Marv, splitting up the cash between them.
"Yeah," said Sean, more confident than he'd ever been. "I wanna know what it's like!"
Marv slapped his brother on the back, proud of his willingness to step up to the plate. "There you go. Next time, Sean, you're gonna be down with the one-eighty-seven!"