Chapter 1

In the Four Corners compound, Luke Stillman woke up at 4:30 every morning. By 5 he was in his private gym for his hour-long workout. He had traded lifting weights for isometric exercises, muscle mass for agility. At 6’ 2” and 193 pounds, he was physically in his prime. These days, he worked on balance, endurance, and range of motion. At 28, he realized that the healthier he kept himself, the quicker his mind seemed to function. He went through his routines in the nude.

He spent 10 minutes in the shower, then, toweling his black crewcut, he walked through the short corridor to his office suite. As usual, his mother and sister were waiting for him. Both women wore pantsuits and carried clipboards. Nothing they spoke of in their morning meetings would be recorded or retained.

Willow, 30-years old, said, “Luke, we got a problem.”

His mother, Claire, 52, smiled and said, “Let him have his coffee first, honey.”

Willow nodded briskly, and poured him a cup. Fresh, black, strong. Her younger brother registered in her mind without her really looking at him. Except for two years when he had been in Kuwait and Afghanistan, she’d seen him every day of his life.

She was familiar with his slender build and ropy muscles. With his catlike grace and quickness. She knew how broad his shoulders were, how flat his tummy was.

Willow glanced down at his penis. She knew that it was around six inches soft, and that it would grow only another inch or so when he was erect. She also knew that it was the thickest one she had ever seen.

Claire watched her quirky daughter and alert son with fondness. Since her husband, Bobby, had been viciously murdered two-and-a-half years earlier, Willow and Luke had grown even more serious about the business, about Four Corners, about continuing its hard-won success.

Luke set down his coffee cup, smiled at Willow, “A problem?”

“Yeah. Lucy Boardman came around again last night. She’s back trying to unionize the girls.”

“The locals or the circuit girls?”

The Entertainment section of Four Corners was composed primarily of Pink Pussy — a gentleman’s club that featured two types of dancers. The locals were just that — women who lived in the area, many of whom had either a husband and kids, or just kids.

The circuit girls spent two weeks in the Four Corners, then traveled by charter bus to medium-sized Midwestern cities — Des Moines, Omaha, Kansas City, St. Louis, and the like. Each group was replaced by another — ensuring fresh faces twice a month.

Willow said, “Locals for now. Maybe forever — Boardman knows who she’d be fucking with if she tried the circuit girls.”

Organized crime. The Stillman family had an uneasy truce going with ‘the man’ in Des Moines. They were currently paying Tiago ‘Teeny’ Delgado for the privilege of hosting the circuit girls. $500 per girl per week. In return, he was, for now anyway, leaving Four Corners alone. Letting the Stillmans run the business that had been in their family for eight generations.

Willow said, “It might not be so bad, letting the locals form a union. We treat them well and they know it.”

Luke nodded, “Maybe. But if they went on a work stoppage, or even a slowdown, we’d be more dependent than ever on Teeny.”

Willow muttered, “That cocksucker.”

There was a two-rap knock on the door. A pause, then two more. Claire smiled and opened the door, “Speaking of.”

A plump, pleasant looking woman, close to 40, came in and smiled at Claire, “You want I should undress, Miss S?”

“Don’t bother, Lucinda.”

The woman pulled up a chair in front of Luke, placed her Apple AirPods over her ears, and took his penis into her mouth.

Willow said, “The transport numbers look good. Up almost five percent from last week.”

Claire glanced at her notes, “Truck stop, up three. Diner, three. Claire’s Garage, almost nine — we’re servicing more and more cars from about a 50-mile radius.”