Over the Line Read Online Free PDF Page B

10th, 2:00 a.m., Blue Heron Boulevard, West Palm Beach
     
    Edwin Grimm lay on his back on a queen-sized bed in an upscale hotel that cost him three hundred plus a night. Compared to his six-by-six cell and his lumpy cot at the correctional facility in San Luis Obispo, California, it was a bed fit for a king.
     
    Freedom was not free. Neither was the skill of the high-priced hooker he'd sent packing after he'd gotten his rocks off a few minutes ago. She'd been blond like Janey. Petite. Pretty. The similarities ended there.
     
    But he'd needed some relief, so he'd made do. And he'd already repented for giving in to the demon lust. He'd found Jesus in prison and Jesus forgave. Now he could just lie here and relive seeing Janey again.
     
    His ears were still ringing. The concert tonight had been one loud, wild blast of a ride—just like the night before. God, he'd missed it. These past three years, he'd missed the rush of rocking to Janey's beat. Groovin' on that smoky, sultry voice.
     
    Watching her incredible body.
     
    She'd learned some new moves while he'd been in stir. He stared at the program he'd sprung for to the tune of twelve bucks. Pocket change now that he had access to his bank accounts again. There was a great head shot on the cover. She looked so fine. Back in the joint, he'd liked to lie at night, quiet like this, and look at her pictures. He'd found them in magazines in the prison library, ripped them out, and taped them with care onto the scarred metal bed frame above him. Some were old and dog-eared at the corners. Some were ripped and taped together. Bastard guards. Couldn't leave a man's private possessions alone.
     
    Private possessions. Like he'd really had any in that hellhole. Just those pictures of Sweet Baby Jane. And his memories of how she had smelled, how huge her deep brown eyes had gotten when he'd paid his little visit to her house three years ago. If only he'd had time to touch her. It would have all been worth it.
     
    He worked his hand down inside his briefs and thumbed his cock. Despite the hooker's expert manipulations, thinking about Janey got him rock hard again.
     
    It had been a damn long time since that night. Damn long years of his life wasted. Just because he'd wanted to see her. Smell her. Touch her. She hadn't understood.
     
    She would soon. This time, he'd make her understand. He just had to deal with some bothersome obstacles first.
     
    He rolled to his side, laid the program with a full-length centerfold photo of his Janey on the pillow beside him. Touched a blunt index finger to her face, eased it along the curve of her breast. He could still hear her sing. Could almost smell her now. Could come just staring at those ripe, vixen lips.
     
    Vixen. He liked that word, he thought, slowly working his dick. Female fox. That's what it meant. He'd looked it up in the prison library after some slick Nancy-boy reporter had called Janey that. A vixen.
     
    That dumb-fuck reporter had been right about that one thing, but he didn't know anything else about Janey. Edwin knew. He knew everything. He wished someone would have asked him tonight at the concert. Hey, Edwin, he wished they'd say, what do you know about Sweet Baby Jane?
     
    He'd tell 'em. He'd tell 'em that she was as sweet as her name even though they dressed her up like a slut. He'd tell 'em that she'd grown up without a daddy in a dozen low-rent trailers all up and down the state of Mississippi where her momma drank like a fish and washed other people's clothes along with doing a little back work to make ends meet—most often they didn't. He'd tell 'em that Janey was loyal. That she took care of her mom even though she'd never been a mom to her.
     
    Yeah, he knew everything about her, even before she made it big. And oh, had that little girl made it big. Even bigger than when his high-priced gutless wonder of a lawyer had let the Los Angeles D.A. whip his ass on their defense case three years ago and he'd ended up