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I glance over at the clock: 10:38 P.M. Then step away from her body. I walk into the bathroom and wash off the blood on the gun and my hands, carefully drying them. Then I wash my face, glancing up from the sink at the reflection staring back at me in the mirror. I don’t like what I see.
I don’t even know who I see.
The bitch staring back at me has my face, my complexion, my hazel eyes. But she is still a stranger to me. I don’t like her.
I don’t like me.
But this is who I am.
This is what I’ve become.
Thanks to Jasper.
Thanks to Felecia.
Thanks to every motherfucker who took his turn at fucking my throat raw.
I flip off the light and walk back out into my office over to my desk and pull out one of the burner phone’s Lamar had given me, then place a call. “Who this?”
“Pasha.”
“Oh, what’s good? You still need that remodeling work done?”
“Yes. I’m ready for that paint job,” I say, unlocking and opening my office door, then walking into the staff lounge, going over to the counter and pulling out the top drawer. I grab a steak knife, then shut the drawer. “And I need the carpet pulled up and tossed along with all the dead weight in the room.”
“Oh, aiight.”
He understands, clearly. She’s dead. He’s the only person I told about my meeting with her tonight here. The only person who I let know things might get ugly between us. He was the only person I let hear the extent of my rage toward her. And when I told him out of anger that I felt like killing her ass, he said, “Then maybe she should catch it. What she did was some real grimy shit. You didn’t deserve that. So, whatever you decide, I’ma ride it out with you. Real shit, ma, I know that’s ya fam ‘n’ all, but I think you should handle her.”
He said it with no expression, no emotion. Then leaned into my ear and whispered, “I have a professional cleanup crew in case… things get bloody. I can get you a piece that won’t ever trace back to you. You won’t have to do anything except pull the trigger.”
He walked me through it. Told me to make sure to turn off the security cameras just in case I decided to handle her—permanently, so no one would see her coming in if anyone were to ever ask to see any footage. Not that they would have reason to. But I needed to be three steps ahead. He told me to be sure to meet with her in my office, where it’s soundproofed. Then handle my business.
“Right after you pop her top, hit me up and I’ll handle everything else. I specialize in these kinds of jobs. Security work is my other gig.” Without him saying more than that, it was evident at that very moment that there was a whole lot more to my armed-security stud. “You wanna rid ya’self of a poisonous snake before it has a chance to strike again, chop off its head.”
The seed had been planted. Her slick mouth sealed her fate.
Hate me? Bitch, please!
There is no room in my life for snitches and snakes. Felecia really thought she’d reap some hefty reward by snaking me. Thought she had snatched her the door prize, along with a quick come-up by backstabbing me. Ha! I showed that bitch. She couldn’t have possibly thought she’d get away with it. She almost did.
Almost.
But getting caught happens to the best of us. Eventually she would have to pay her dues. It was only a matter of time. And, tonight, her time had come.
It’s over. When I walk out of here tonight, I will go home, grab a bottle of wine, run a bubble bath, then soak away any memory of tonight. Then I am going to pop two sleeping pills and sleep the rest of the night away free from any chance of being plagued with nightmares of what I’ve done. And, before the crack of dawn, I will wake up with a smile plastered on my face. Catch my flight to Los Angeles to spend the day with my son. Catch the red-eye flight back. Then Tuesday morning, bright and early, I will step up in my salon, facing the day with the same renewed purpose. To shut down everyone else who had a hand in hurting me.
And I will go on with my life as if nothing ever happened tonight. As if I hadn’t laid eyes on this bitch in almost two weeks. I will pretend she never existed. As if, minutes ago, I’d never pulled the trigger, blowing a hole in the back of her head.
I grab a pair of latex gloves, then the toolbox from under the cabinet and take out a wrench and a pair of pliers, then place the toolbox back in its place.
“Oh, aiight. You still there?”
I walk back into my office. “Yes.” He already knows where to park his trucks. Around the back of the building as we discussed. He knows to enter through the emergency exit door on the side of the building where the staff lounge is. I snap my fingers, suddenly remembering something. Yes, that’s exactly what I need. A large bag of ice and a cooler. I pull out the key to my storage closet, unlocking it, then taking out what I need. One last piece to finish this bitch off…
