Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
My eyes focusing on the blood dripping from the side of his mouth, I ball my hands into fists and count to ten to stop myself from attacking a second time. And a third time. My head pounds with the need to do just that. “Don’t need to talk to a fucking quack, friend.” I say friend in a way that makes it sound like he’s anything but. “I’m fine. I’m fucking great.”
Happy stands, takes out a handkerchief from his shirt pocket, and dabs at his bloody lip, panting. “That’s exactly why you need to see someone, bro.” We stare at each other. “You’re not fine. I don’t think you’ve been fine a day in your life.”
Happy is my friend, but he’s also a pain in my ass. Turning to allow myself a moment to calm the beast that resides in my head, I breathe deeply. “No quack. Subject closed. What’s on the agenda today?”
He responds immediately, “Damage control. Warehouse A.”
My brow lifts. A sadistic smile appears on my face.
Looks like I’ll be able to take out my anger on someone after all.
Sitting on a five dollar fold out chair from a hardware store, my anger builds watching the traitor who tries in vain to cover his story. But he lies.
I know lies. I’m the king of lies. And his are grating my nerves.
Happy kicks his knees out. He falls forward into a kneeling position.
The middle-aged, plump cronie shakes while pleading, “Mr. T, please, don’t do this. My family, they—”
He bites his tongue upon mentioning his family. As if I’ll go after them.
The guy doesn’t know me at all. That’s not my style.
Reaching into the back of my slacks, I pull out my .32 calibre semi-auto. She’s a beauty, but my .45 is my favorite. I won’t use my baby on this piece of shit though. I don’t want her dirtied by his filthy blood.
Looking down, right into his eyes, I hold his stare.
Using the barrel of the gun to scratch at my temple absentmindedly, I ask a second time, “What did you tell Hamid, Patrick? And don’t say ‘nothing’ because photographs don’t lie. And the way he shook your hand and smiled like he’d won the fucking lottery, I know you told him something.” He trembles and cries. Snot runs down his nostrils and into his mouth. “Nothing? You won’t tell me?”
Standing, I take two steps towards him and sigh at the pitiful state of him. “It’s nothing personal. It’s just business.”
Raising the barrel of the gun to his forehead, I breathe deeply and close my eyes.
I exhale.
The shot rings out.
Smiling like a dork, I’m giddy at getting some girl-time in. I really need it after this week’s occurrences.
Nikki and I have a weekly standing date at a local café. Somewhere we can meet during the week and spend our lunch hour yakking away. I don’t necessarily like today’s subject.
She stirs her coffee and avoids my eyes, looking guilty. “I don’t know anything about this guy and that worries me. I-” Cough, “I’ve asked around and—”
I cut her off with a gasp, “Nikki, you didn’t!”
Placing her hands up in a placating way, she adds, “I can’t let me best friend go out with just anyone now, can I? It’s beside the point, babe, because I couldn’t come up with a damn thing. People know of him. People know about him. And people would rather swallow razor blades than gossip about Twitch. Meaning: he’s not only scary, but the man keeps his shit tighter than a Vatican priest.”
I’m not sure what to do with this information.
So I do nothing. And something.
I change the subject. “You do realize that it’s only two weeks ‘til your birthday, right?”
Completely on to me, she rolls her eyes, “Yes, mum, I do, but don’t even try to change the subject, girlie.” Smiling a sly smile, she whispers, “What’s he like?”
She’s dying to know. I can feel the want coming off of her in waves.
Thinking, I sigh and melt into my chair. “When it’s good, it’s the best and most beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced. So good, that it makes me feel bad for people who haven’t had the honor.” She smiles big and I add, “But when it’s bad…it’s bad, Nikki. A goddamn Greek tragedy. It’s horrific. And really fucking scary.” Stirring the coffee that no longer needs to be stirred, I whisper, “He scares me.”
I watch as the smile falls from her face. She now wears a look of anxiety.
Reaching across the table to take her hand in mine, I tell her honestly, “But those good times…” I sigh dreamily. “I’ll take the bad just so I can have the good. Because the good is outstanding. So, if you must know, I’m going with the flow and taking it as it comes.”
Nikki still looks worried, but her eyes have turned dreamy.