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Brenda breathes out, trying to say something but can’t speak. She knows I’m not going to kill her. We’ve done this sort of thing before. It’s the only way I ever get close to getting hard. I haven't been fully aroused since I was a kid going through puberty. I’ve tried the pills they advertise in commercials, but they don’t work. I haven’t gone to headshrinkers either. In my line of work, someone would find out. Then my head would be found with my tongue cut out, and the shrink’s head would be found without ears.
I know what they’d say already, anyway. My impotence is due to my father, who used to beat me and my mother before he was killed in a mob hit. Then Mama took off right afterward, leaving me to fend for myself.
“Ugh, Ugh,” Brenda gags as my grip tightens. I ease up and bend down further, so my face is right next to hers. I feel hot puffs of air on my cheek as she tries to catch her breath.
“Stop being such a baby,” I say, removing my hand from her neck. Brenda’s perfume smells familiar. It reminds me of when I stepped close to Mari in Sonomi’s office.
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir!” she says and coughs.
I think of how Mari told Artyom she doesn’t want to meet with me. My hand moves back over my shoulder and then forward again. I slap Brenda’s face as hard as I would someone who tried to steal from the Bratva. Her body and the bench rock, nearly toppling over on its side.
“Yellow!” Brenda calls out. It’s sort of a safe word, but it doesn’t mean stop like red does. She looks at me, licking a little blood from her lips. I look down at her. I didn’t really want to hit her that hard.
“Okay, Blondie. It’s alright, but I need to point out blood, and any marks cost double, you know. I’m sorry to break character, and we could keep going if you want, but I paid for all this stuff out of my pocket too.”
“I’ll pay double, and I’ll pay for all this stuff too. It might come in handy. For when you come back again, I mean. This session’s over, ” I say and release Brenda from her bonds.
“Thank you, Josef. Sir,” Brenda winks, with a bit of blood running down her chin.
“Sorry about that, B,” I say.
“No problem. It seems like you got a lot on your mind today. Do you want to try again after I wash up? Or we could work on anything else you want. No extra charge for you, Josef,” she says seductively. I know she’s attracted to me and would love it if I could get it up. So would I.
“That’s it for today, ” I say and smack her ass. “There’s a stack of cash in the left-hand desk drawer. It should be more than enough to cover everything, with some left over for a tip. There’s also a little something else in there for you.”
“Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!”
“You’re welcome,” I say as Brenda goes over, grabs the cash, and puts it in her pocketbook. She pulls out a small mirror, some wipes, and a bandage. She looks back down in the drawer and then up at me again as she works on her bloody lip.
“Oh, Smack!” she says. I’d cut some stuff into the Southside’s pure H and put it in the drawer before I met Artyom at the marina. Brenda is the best person I know that could tell me just how good the stuff is.
“Join me for a blast?” she asks.
“You know I never touch the stuff.”
“Thank you, Josef,” she says while getting her works out of her bag. “Is it alright if I bump here?”
“Go ahead. I was hoping you would. It’s new stuff. I want you to let me know how it is,” I explain. Brenda is my normal type of customer these days. She’s one of those users that manage and regulate their use. She doesn’t spend all of her or her family's money on it like junkies do. Junkies are a pain in the ass, and dealing with them and their families is just depressing. Junkies are the first to try to run away without paying or go snitching to the cops when they get pinched for something else.
“Oh, by the way,” Brenda says as she leans back and forth, enjoying the effect of the drugs.
“What?”
“Artyom came by the house earlier. Don’t worry. He didn’t see any of this stuff. I gave him that skinny-dipping slut’s clothes. I told him he should try to get in her pants. Get it? I gave him her pants!”
Brenda is laughing hysterically now. The image of Artyom seducing Mari pops into my head, and rage flows through my body like electricity. I don’t really know Mari, but I know Artyom. The thought of a pig like him touching Mari makes me angry, and I’m not exactly sure why. I did have an amazing dream about her, but I’ve only met the girl once.
I’m not sure what I’m doing or exactly why I’m doing it, but I’m going over to the desk to unlock the right-side drawer and retrieve one of the many guns from the false bottom. Brenda is still leaning back and forth, giggling now. I raise a revolver up so she can see it.
“You going to shoot that slut?” Brenda stops giggling and sounds serious now, her mouth wide with an exaggerated surprised expression on her face.
“You want to hear something fucked up?” I ask her.
She nods her head again with a heroin-induced exaggerated slow movement.
“When I was just a boy, just starting middle school, my father gave me a beautiful shiny revolver, a lot like this one. Papa told me to get a group of friends together and get them to play Russian roulette. It was my initiation. If I survived, then got the other boys to tell the cops that the loser committed suicide, I would deserve to be accepted into the Bratva as a soldier. Now I’m captain of a crew. I haven’t played roulette, not even in Atlantic City, since then. Want to play a game?” I ask.
“Yeah, let’s play!”
