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“Best eighty-nine million I’ve ever spent.” I grinned at Liam.
LIAM
We weren’t wasting time, simply because we didn’t have any more time to waste. I was sure that Avian knew we were here, and I was beyond ready for payback. This was what we needed. So I sat in the booth, and watched as the hooker in the tight, blue dress and fish net stockings, flirted with the undercover agent who was currently ingesting copious amounts of drugs. I should’ve be insulted by the fact that he didn’t notice my beautiful wife, who was pretending to be a bartender. Normally we had people to do this type of work, but this was personal. It needed to done correctly, and the only people who could make sure that would happen was us.
Mel didn’t look bad in her red wig and tight-vested shirt, in fact, I would’ve taken her into the back and have my way with her right that second if I could’ve, and I briefly wondered how my blond wig and glasses affected her. She glanced at me and winked as though she could read my mind.
The crowded bar smelled like old smokes, stale peanuts, and booze. I watched as Mel mixed drinks with skills I didn’t even know she possessed, and the idiot who was supposed to be a federal agent drank them down as he spoke with the hooker.
When Mel was finished, she took a tray of drinks and walked away from the “couple.”
“You look like you need a drink,” a woman said, as she stepped into my line of sight and blocked my view of Mel. Her breasts were all but falling out of her shirt, and the skirt she wore was so tight it looked as if she needed to piss when she walked.
“I’m fine.” I lifted my glass to show her.
“Yes you are, sugar.” She licked her lips.
However, her flirtations only last for a moment before Mel was standing before her.
“Leg it babe, he’s not on the market, and I’m the last woman you want to piss off,” she said, a lot nicer than I’d hoped. But I knew she was just trying to keep from causing a scene. Luckily the woman didn’t bother fighting, and she left quickly and smartly.
“I leave you for a few minutes and you’re already picking up strays,” Mel said, as she took a seat in front of me.
“Next time, don’t leave me and we won’t have a problem.” I winked at her.
She rolled her eyes at me before she looked back at Agent Wilson and his new friend. “How long will this take?” she asked knowing that the faster we got out of here, the better.
“Soon. He’s about ready to jump her.”
“And you know this how? Because he’s leaning in?”
“Because I know the feeling.”
She paused and looked to me. “Not in that wig.”
“What? I think I look dashing as a blond!”
“You look like the man that mothers warn their children about. I’ll keep mine on, but you’d better take yours off if you plan on coming near me later.”
I felt a tightening in my pants and I wished that later meant now. “Noted, wife.”
She held my gaze for a moment before it once more shifted to the Agent who was had just left with the woman. We waited for a few seconds before we rose and walked out to the back alley where Monte had been waiting. He handed Mel a large bag before he walked down the quiet alleyway to an awaiting car. We both put on our gloves.
As the cold air kissed our faces, I watched as the happy couple skipped across the street to the motel…after all, what good was a seedy bar if there wasn’t a trashy motel close by for a quick drunken fuck?
I took out a smoke only to find Mel glaring at me. “What?”
“You’ve been smoking a lot lately.”
Seriously? “It’s cold.”
“I’m in a vest and a skirt, but you’re cold?” she said slowly.
“Since when do you have a problem with me smoking?”
“Since we have a child. I don’t want him getting sick. Secondhand smoke kills. But hey, you’re cold.” She shrugged, and her lips pulled together as she looked towards the motel.
Sighing, I flicked it over to the corner. “You happy now?”
“Ethan’s lungs are,” she countered, proving once again how easily my emotions could flip with her.
Rolling my eyes, I began to walk towards the motel. “They should be out by now.”
“Lead the way,” she said.
I was tempted to look both ways before crossing the street just in case. Whenever my wife tells me to “lead the way,” I have to make sure I’m not about to get kicked in the face for her amusement.
Pulling the rusted doors open for her, I watched as she raised an eyebrow at me but said nothing before she stepped in.
“Room thirteen,” the manager said.
Reaching into my jacket, I pulled out a thick envelope and threw it at him.
“Take it and walk away from this place tomorrow. This motel is going to be closed for a while,” she told him, and he nodded greedily.
Obviously the motel business was not going well for him, the flickering lights and water stained ceiling was proof enough. We both walked down the hall until we reached the wooden door with the number three that was hung upside down on a single nail.
“Let the games begin,” I said to her as I opened the door, which creaked as we stepped in.
The room glowed in cheap, dull, golden light, and across the room, the couple’s clothing lay spread about the floor.
“How much time?”
The woman, who was still awake, lay on the musty bed next to the naked, tattooed man with a horrible farmers’ tan. He was so out of it, that no matter how much noise we made, he didn’t even stir.
“Five, four, three…” Mel counted down, “…two, one.”
Just like that, the hooker fell asleep. Without a word, Mel opened the bag, pulled out Agent Wilson’s badge and credentials, and placed them on the floor next to his clothes. Then she took his gun and threw it against the wall before we proceeded to trash the room. Satisfied with our destruction, we planted the cash, cocaine, and heroin all over the room.
She handed me the knife with a smile, as I walked over to the bed and placed it in the agent’s left hand. As I suspended his hand above to the woman’s chest, I drove the blade into her, stabbing her multiple times until Agent Wilson’s body was covered in her blood. The drugs in their system were untraceable, and luckily for the hooker, she never felt a thing. I took her hand and dragged her nails against his arm. That, plus the evidence of their sexual activities provided more than enough physical evidence.
Releasing his hand, it dropped almost lifelessly with the knife still clenched within it. Turning back to Mel, I watched as she looked through the edited files once more before she left them strewn on the ground.
Avian had declared war, and like any war, there would be casualties.
Mel walked out into lobby knowing that there were no cameras on this block, or anywhere else in the hotel for that matter. Then she dialed from the burner phone.
I listened in as the 911 operator answered.
“Hello? Me at the Nomad Inn at 1325 New York Ave, there was much screaming and yell! No sé lo que está pasando!” she said with a thick Spanish accent that was almost flawless.
The operator questioned for more, but Mel hung up without another word.
MELODY
When we both stepped in, newly dressed and wigless. The one person I needed to see was dressed in a darling little onesie, waiting for me.
