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“She doesn’t seem the same as the other women I know. She’s… She doesn’t want anything from me. When I offered to help her if she needed it, she looked insulted.” She pauses. “Anyway, I’m gone. The screws will be doing their rounds soon.”
She hangs up, no doubt turning the phone off and hiding it somewhere in her cell, while I contemplate my next move.
I could go straight to my next job, or I could ride home, jump in my car, and drive by her house.
Going to earn my money would be the sane thing to do, but I haven’t been sane in a long fucking time.
“I’m out,” I tell my brothers as I pass their table.
“Say hi to your woman for us,” Riot hollers, and I leave to everyone’s laughter.
They’ll see who’s the joke when I bring her around… after we get to know each other.
Her house is shrouded in darkness, apart from the TV light flickering in the top left window. It doesn’t matter that I’ve only seen her the one time, and during that one time, she was fully clothed, and only for a few minutes. I remember every single detail about her, so wondering if she sleeps naked or in skimpy lingerie is enough to lead me astray.
Lexi asked me to take her shopping for some food, so for now, I drive away from her house, knowing I’ll be back in the morning. Ten hours, and I’ll finally get my face-to-face with her.
Driving across town to my mark’s property doesn’t take long, and I park in the shadows, grabbing my bag of tricks.
I’ve been watching him for weeks, and tonight is the night I get my face-to-face with him.
He lives alone. His lights go out around 1 AM every single night. His nearest neighbour is half a mile away, meaning no one will hear his screams.
Picking his lock on the back door, I let myself into his kitchen and close the door behind me with a soft click.
Even in the darkness, I can see the place could do with a good clean. It’s a hoarder’s paradise. Boxes are piled up in every corner and on every surface. The house is silent as I make my way upstairs and nudge the first door open to find a disgustingly dirty bathroom. The second door leads to an overly cluttered guest room, but the third door leads me to my mark, sleeping peacefully in his bed, believing he’s going to wake up to another day.
The guy who hired me doesn’t want him dead. He just wants him to hurt a lot, with permanent reminders of how he crossed the wrong guy. Either way, it doesn’t bother me. I get paid to inflict pain, and that’s what I’m going to do. Most people have to pay to get therapy. Me? I get paid for my own personal brand of therapy.
Lowering my bag of tricks quietly onto the floor, I stand at the bottom of his bed and look down over him. Thankfully, the prick sleeps in his boxers. His rounded belly heaves with every breath he takes, and it repulses me.
Sliding my knife out from my inside pocket, I run the tip of the blade along the bottom of his foot, up and down until he kicks out, trying his best to stay asleep and be rid of the annoyance. I can’t wait to see how he fares when I slice him open. Adding pressure to the stroke of the blade, I watch a dark red line appear and flick my eyes up to watch him jump up, trying to work out what the fuck is happening.
“Who the fuck are you? What are you doing in my house?”
“Royce Dolton sends his love,” I murmur, walking around the bed.
The moonlight streams through the window, and it brings me pleasure to watch the colour drain from his face.
“Me and Royce a-are f-fine,” he stutters.
“Come on, don’t lie now. It won’t help you, and only makes me enjoy this more.”
Grabbing him by his hair, I pull him from the bed, collect my bag, and drag him down the stairs to the kitchen.
“Sit,” I instruct him, pointing to one of the chairs.
“How much is he paying you? I can pay double if you just leave.”
“You couldn’t afford my rates, let alone double them.”
One arming the crap off the table, I dump my bag on top and unzip it to get my ropes out.
I make quick work of tying him to the chair, then take a moment to decide whether to gag him or not.
I decide I need to hear his pain tonight, because I’m in a good mood. Reaching for my iPod, I turn my music on, step back, roll my neck, and grin.
Picking up the blade, he gulps thickly, watching my every move, and I laugh. Walking around him, I say, “Tonight I will make you bleed. You’ll live, but lessons have to be learned. And tomorrow, we’ll both go on our way, and you’ll never see me again.”
