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Free Falling	By : CertainUncertainty Category: +S through Z > Saints Row Views: 1633 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Saints Row: The Third or any of its characters, nor do I make a profit from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 5
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Jamien stepped off of the elevator feeling shitty. Shaundi had almost put a bullet in Killbane's face. But, as always, almost doesn't count. Though it wasn't his fault that the Deckers' leader, Matt Miller, had been able to hack the controls to their helicopter and cause them to crash, Shaundi still had been less than happy with him.
She'll get over it.
Denitra and Pierce were seated at the kitchen island, with takeout and a bottle of wine in front of them. Sitting pretty close. Jamien bit the inside of his cheek. "Well, hello lovebirds, how was your evening?"
The look on Pierce's face was priceless. Then again, maybe the look on Jamien's face was enough to make a person shit bricks. "Hey, Boss. What happened?"
"Killbane decided to trash the Saints on TV. You didn't see it?" Jamien took slow steps towards the pair.
"Oh, what?" He looked back at Denitra for a second. "No, I didn't see it. We were talking and eating."
"Talking about what?"
"You." Pierce answered so candidly that it caught Jamien off guard for a second. "Me?"
"Um, I have to go to the bathroom. Is there one here?" Denitra cut in, sliding off of her seat.
"Yeah, just go up the stairs. There's stairs on both sides of the loft and you can't miss the bathroom." Pierce pointed out the stairs for her and she was gone. When Pierce turned back around, he stilled. "What did I do now?"
"Spill."
Pierce sighed, taking off his hat to ran a hand over his head, then put it back on. "You're sorta responsible for the death of her best friend."
"Come again?"
"Boss, the Stilwater University shootout with Sons of Samedi?"
"Yeah, what about it?"
"She said her friend worked in the gift shop. She was killed in the crossfire." Pierce shoved his hands into his pockets. "The girl's really torn up about it."
"Oh."
"Yeah, oh. And, to make you feel bad, she thinks you're attractive. But now you're keeping her here against her will. So things are gonna get ugly before they get good."
"Do you think I should let her go?" Jamien looked at his second.
Pierce's eyes widened. "I don't think anything. I'm just letting you know the situation. I don't know what you plan to do as far as she's concerned, but you should watch your back. I'd hate for you to end up with a fork in your eye or something."
"Well, wait. Does she know I-"
"No. If she knew, there'd be no keeping her here."
"Duly noted."
The distinct sound of a toilet flushing. "So what happened?" Pierce spoke quickly, going over to the bar to pour Jamien a shot glass of vodka. He accepted it with a nod of thanks.
"Well, we found the bastard, took out a good number of Deckers along the way, and in the end, failed to kill the bastard. Deckers hacked our helicopter and crashed it. Killbane lives to see another day." He tossed the shot back. "So, Shaundi's royally pissed off at me now."
"We'll get another chance."
"Don't tell me that, tell her that."
"I've tried, remember? Didn't help that at the time I was getting a lap dance but still. The girl needs to live a little."
"But not a lot. It's near impossible to get her to do shit when she's stoned."
"Um, excuse me?"
Both heads turned towards Denitra, who stood at the bottom of the stairs. "Yeah?" Jamien spoke up.
"Thank you for the meal and conversation..."
"Pierce." He volunteered his name with a small smile.
"Pierce. Thank you." She turned slightly to face Jamien. He noticed that she wouldn't look him in the eyes like she had before. "It's really late. Even if you decided to let me go, I wouldn't want to go. I don't know Steelport well enough. So, if you don't mind, I'm tired and I'd like to just go to sleep."
"Well, that's my cue. Goodnight, baby girl." Pierce gently touched her shoulder then made his way to the elevators.
"Wait, Pierce you can't just-"
Pierce was already on the elevator and the doors closed, leaving them alone. "Bastard." He turned towards Denitra. "Okay, well there's a bed-"
She plopped down on the couch where she'd woken up, curling up into a fetal position. "I'll be fine right here."
Jamien frowned. "There's a bed upstairs." He grabbed her wrist and pulled her up into a sitting position. For a second, he was distracted by her dress. It looked like Barney threw up on his couch. "You can sleep up there."
"There's no telling what STDs live in that mattress." She shook her head. "I'll be fine right here."
"There's a perfectly good king sized bed upstairs! Why would you sleep down here?"
She looked up at him. "There are stripper poles everywhere! You know as well as I do that freaky, sinful things go on around here. I know it's probably a snowball's chance in hell, but I'm gonna sleep on the couch and hope I don't catch anything. Please, if you do nothing else for me, take me to get tested in the morning."
Jamien was at a loss for words. He didn't know if he should laugh or be insulted. "I promise you, it doesn't get that out of hand. We have a cleaning crew who comes in and cleans the place, even sanitizes, every week."
"What days do they come in?"
"Every Thursday."
"They have another three days. I'm sleeping right here, thank you."
He sighed and rolled his eyes. "You can't get a disease from a couch!"
"You can if the body fluids from the infected person isn't washed off."
"It's a black leather couch! It's constantly wiped down just so it looks good."
"So you admit fluids get on the couch?"
"No, I admit drinks and food get wasted on the couch. That's it."
"How do you know? Are you here constantly to monitor your minions to make sure they don't accidentally get jizz or vag juice on it?"
Jamien blinked. "I'm sorry. I-I didn't expect you to actually be capable of saying those kinds of things." He pinched the bridge of his nose and answer with his eyes closed. "No, I'm not here but those so-called minions know better. I'm not a neat freak but some things are just not done. Even in a brothel. I did mention the cleaning crew sanitizes, didn't I?"
"What about the bed then?"
"Seriously? Are we gonna sit here for the next hour or so until the sun comes up arguing about cleanliness?"
"If I have to, yes."
Jamien scowled at her. "You're starting to remind me of me."
Denitra, in turn, scowled. "That's an insult."
"Really?" He shrugged and swiftly steped over to her, grabbing one arm as he stooped over, and yanked her over his shoulder. "You could at least look at the bed."
"I don't want to!"
"Why not?" He asked calmly as he made his way to the stairs.
"You're so damned controlling! Does everyone have to do whatever you say, the minute the words pop into your head? I don't like the Saints so why in the hell would I willingly sleep in a bed that's had, God know, how many people fornicating in it?"
Jamien grunted as he adjusted her on his shoulder. "You make it sound like we're less than human beings or something."
"Have people fucked in the bed?"
"Okay, when you say people, do you mean couples like two people at once or individuals like every single person?"
"PUT ME DOWN!" She screamed and began pounding his back with her fists.
"Two! Just two people okay?"
"How do you know?" She stopped hitting him and he put her down at the top of the stairs, so that she was eye to eye with him.
He fidgeted uncomfortably. "You're gonna take it the wrong way."
"Either way it goes, I'm gonna sleep on the couch so what does it matter how I take it?"
"Then why ask?" He countered, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking down at her feet.
"Because it's hard to believe just two people have ever slept in that bed."
Jamien sighed deeply, and dragged a hand over his face. He was beginning to realize his mistake in being so hasty to get one up on Shaundi. "I've always had my own place to sleep. Back in Stilwater, we have more than one crib so it's easy to claim one as my own and allow the runts to crash there for a drink or something to eat. Here... We're working on it. I hated Shaundi's loft; it's way too small for anyone to crash and the piss mat she called a bed was ridiculous. The HQ is awesome, but Pierce likes to party whenever we're not doing anything important. So, as soon as we got this place, I claimed it. Pierce wants it, but I like quiet when I sleep, sometimes also to think and get my head together."
"Okay, so you're saying this is where you sleep. So you've slept in that bed with one person?"
He nodded.
"Some random stripper or ho?"
"Candi is...Candi's more than that. She's a friend who helps me relax when I'm stressed out."
"She helps you sexually though, right?"
"Yes."
"I'm not sleeping in your jizz."
"The sheets get changed every time we do anything."
"It's the principal of it. No woman sleeps in a man's bed after he's had a different woman in it." Jamien started to say something. "No. Would you sleep in my bed if I told you I had sex with a different guy in it like last week?"
Jamien's shoulders dropped. "I don't plan on fucking you so what does it matter? I just want you to sleep where I can watch you."
"That's creepy as fuck. Who watches people while they sleep? Aren't you tired? When will you sleep?"
Jamien let out a groan of frustration. "I plan on going to sleep. I'm a light sleeper so I'll know if you get out of the bed. That's what I mean by watching you."
"Why can't you do that with me downstairs?"
"I won't feel the bed move."
"Look, I'm sleeping downstairs, on the couch where I woke up. That's it." She tried to get around him but he put her over his shoulder again and continued on to the bed. Without much thought, he dumped onto it.
"There. Now, we go to sleep."
"What the fuck?" She yelled at him. He smirked at her and dove onto the bed, aiming for the spot next to her. She lashed out at him with her foot, catching him in the throat which resulted in him falling onto the floor clutching his throat. Seeing that he was still alive, she got up. "Again, I'll be sleeping on the couch."
Jamien didn't get up until he heard the couch downstairs give a slight squeak from her weight. He sat up against the half wall and counted slowly to fifty. Once he was sure that if he got up, he wouldn't go shoot the girl in the face, he took his time undressing the bed. He dumped the old sheets and pillow cases into the laundry basket in the hallway closet then pulled out a brand new set. He flipped the mattress over then dressed it. He made a note that the harlequin purple silk and satin set was the best he'd ever laid hands on and he needed more sets like this one. Once the bed was made and smelled fresh, he walked downstairs, making an effort to keep his anger in check.
He expected her to be awake, just laying on the couch waiting for him to come back downstairs. He expected to argue some more, making note of the fresh bedding and overturned mattress. He expected her to still say no, even after all his effort to make her more comfortable. He expected to have to admit that maybe he was in over his head with his decision to keep her around just to prove a point to Shaundi.
He didn't expect to find her asleep, snoring.
He scratched his head and thought about his options. He could leave her there, but more than likely she'd try to make a run for it. He could take her upstairs, but Pierce had a point about forks and eyes. She could also get out of the bed and he not notice. He wanted to leave her there, but realized that some part of him was still a gentleman. If he did wake up with a fork in his eye, he'd kick Pierce's ass for jinxing him in the first place. Carefully, he scooped her up in his arms. When she didn't wake up, he took that as a cue to haul ass upstairs and get her in bed. Once he had her settled in, he pulled her sandals off and pulled the covers up to her shoulder. He picked up the remote that sat on the bedside table and with one click, all the lights turned off. He carefully laid down on his side of the bed, on top of the covers, and kicked off his shoes.
He pulled out his phone and pressed a button, illuminating the area with a dim light. 4:28 a.m. He let out a sigh. Twenty four hours ago, he'd been in the same bed with a different woman, doing very different things.
He looked at Denitra as he gave second thought to what Pierce had told him. She looked peaceful in her sleep. He remembered when he used to sleep peacefully. Then again, a coma may not be considered sleeping. Whatever, it was peaceful. She'd been through hell because of him, and just from the past day, but from what Pierce said, the past few years. Another decision of his that resulted in tragedy. He'd told himself that those who died in the crossfire were just victims of fate, but he never was sure if that was the truth. Guilt started to set in. He touched her cheek. Maybe he could make up for one wrong out of many. Maybe, just maybe.
- 5
- 6
- 7
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Free Falling