The polite thing to do, I felt, was to go make the call. Leave the two men in peace and allow them to relax. Maybe fetch some water or lemonade in a jug in case they decided to refresh themselves. A plate of cookies perhaps.
I shouldn’t just stand there, letting them stare at me like I was something on offer in a store. But that’s what I did. It had been such a long time since anyone had looked at me like that. I didn’t want them to stop.
Women in the town looked at me, and always enviously. Their men would occasionally look, too, the way a dog on a chain will look at a steak, a piece of meat that’s just out of their reach. Nobody looked at me the way these two men did. Did Hollis look at me like that in the beginning? I couldn’t remember.
I did remember the way he looked at me when the phys ed teacher told me to go find him that one time, and I had to go look in the shower. He was wet, holding a towel. He stopped, practically froze when he saw me. Then he had that hungry look.
Turning and almost bumping into wet, white tiles I ran out of there so fast. Afterwards I often wondered, if it weren’t for that moment, that one split second, would it still have been me that he had for his bride? If I could have escaped, I wondered which other poor girl would have gotten the prize, the poisoned pill.
All this time I hadn’t ever had a man just look at me, see me, appreciate me. Other men would look at Hollis’s wife and wonder what Hollis’s daddy bought him. I know. And Hollis, he just saw something stale. Something that he would use when he needed it, but something to have only when there was nothing else available.
Cold meatloaf. Something you might drag out of the fridge in the early hours, or pull a hunk off on a slow afternoon when there was so much of nothing to do you couldn’t be bothered to even care.
Hollis, my husband, knew every backdoor that wasn’t locked in this town, every wife with some lust left to spare. And of course he knew his way all over little Kylie, although I couldn’t believe that particular treasure map was a very well-kept secret.
Here I was tearing myself up with all this sordidness when there were two really fine looking men sitting, if not quite at my feet, at least sank deep in the upholstery of my lounge. Deep enough for their eyes to be about level with my knees. Deep enough for them to appreciate it, and for me to enjoy their appreciation.
Then the noisy rattle at the front door broke the spell. Without a thought I knew the sound of Hollis stumbling and barging in. Football captain in high school, and just a few years later he didn’t have the physical grace to make a decent entrance to his own house.
Red-faced and rheumy-eyed, his hair looked like something a farmer abandoned. Without even looking straight ahead, where he would have seen me immediately, he lurched through the hallway shouting, “Courtenay? Courtenay?” and he whacked each door open as he passed while I called out to him.
“Hollis. Your guests are out here.”
He exploded past me into the room. As soon as he saw the two men that sat in their black suits in our armchairs he swung an open slap at my cheek. He was so sloppy it barely knocked my face sideways.
“You made me late!” He took another swing, but it was easy to lean back and dodge him. As I did, I caught the hard stares the two men were giving him. He almost lost his balance. “Why didn’t you bring them to me? Why couldn’t you have let me know sooner?”
“I had no idea where you were,” I said, “Dear.”
“Get us some beers.” He growled, swaying with his paw outstretched towards Pennsylvania. “Good to see you, gents. Good of you to come.” He fell and sagged onto the sofa and began to fish in his pants for a blunt.
As Hollis lit the short end of his blunt, New England said evenly, “No drinks for us, Mrs Cullen, thanks all the same.”
“Welcome to our humble little town.” Hollis said, stretched his arms out along the top of the couch and sank deep as his thigh spread wide. He lit the spliff and held a deep draw.
When he let the gray smoke seep out he said, “I know that your stay will be short but I hope it’s to your liking, and that our business is concluded fast. Your business, I mean. The piece of work that you’re here to do for me.” And he held the smoldering joint unsteadily towards Pennsylvania. A slightly raised hand was a polite refusal.
Hollis leaned over to offer the joint out to New England. Liam. He also refused. Hollis shrugged. “Well the piece of work, and he is a piece of work I’ll tell you now…”
Pennsylvania leaned forward and cut him off. “You sure you want us to talk in front of your wife?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Matters to us.” Said New England.
“She won’t make any trouble.” He didn’t even look at me. Pennsylvania did, though. And Liam stood. “Why don’t I help Mrs Cullen fix us some coffee after all.”
Chapter Five
AS I LED him down the hallway and we turned into the kitchen, Liam’s hand rested in the small of my back. His gentle warmth relaxed me and I felt like I had a friend. Silly, I know. Then his hand slipped down. I moved it away.
“I’m a married woman.”
“Not happily?”
My cheeks prickled, “What’s it to you?”
“I mean, what people usually say is ‘I’m a happily married woman.’ But you didn’t say that.”
I stood in front of him. “Do people usually say that?” I arched an eyebrow. “Do they say that to you a lot?”
I loved the spark in his eyes.
There wasn’t any point in hurrying the coffee. The point was for me to be out of the room while Pennsylvania discussed their business with Hollis. The coffee didn’t matter, it was only a charade. The air seemed thick as we stood in the kitchen.
He said, “You didn’t ask if he was expecting us.”
“No.” For no reason, I just leaned against the counter and watched him. We both knew that he and his partner weren’t going to drink the coffee. Hollis needed it but he wouldn’t have any. And I’d had coffee already in the café.
After I set a tray with four cups that nobody was going to use, I ground the beans and started to put the coffee together that nobody was going to drink.
“Your husband could make use of some coffee, I’d say.”
“He could, but he won’t drink it.” I moistened my lips as I looked at him. “Anyway, I’d say he’s a little past where coffee’s going to help. Wouldn’t you agree?” His honey brown eyes shone back and we both felt we were standing a fraction too close. I knew because of how it felt when neither of us moved to do anything about it.
“It’s unusual.” He leaned back against the fridge. His face was in shadow but I could still feel the intensity of his eyes. “You’re not asking if he was expecting us. Or if he knew us even. Your husband might not have wanted to see us, Mrs Cullen.”
“I wouldn’t have cared either way.”
“We could have been anyone.”
“But you’re not anyone, are you?” I was too close again. I must have moved. “You’re Liam, aren’t you.” Then I stepped back like I had nearly gotten burned.
He didn’t say anything about it, but he blinked slowly. “He didn’t tell you that we were coming, hasn’t said anything to you about who we are, has he? When you brought us here, I was sure that he hadn’t.”
“No, he never tells me anything about any of his business. Nor any other part of his life, come to that.” A short, nervous laugh got out of me. “And I don’t ask. Anything I find out by accident, I usually wish that I hadn’t.”
“Not something I’d normally say, and I’d usually keep my nose right out of it, but I’m a little taken aback that having a fine woman like yourself at home isn’t enough to make the man straighten up and fly right.”
I was hot. I wanted to say, I hate him and I wish I’d never set eyes on him, and I didn’t have anything else that I could say. Naturally, I should have said, Do you buy that kind of talk by the yard? But I didn’t.
In the silence I found that my eyes had gone off and
strayed over Liam’s suit. Got lost around the weight that pressed at the front of his pants. It seemed to lengthen when I looked at it.
Eventually I managed to say, “Do you think we’ve given them long enough to complete their business?”
To carry the tray out, I had to move by Liam. New England. He didn’t get out of the way. His scent and his cologne made my head light but scraping past the ridge at the front of his hips made me so hot I almost dropped the tray.
To be sure, I had to move past him very slowly. A fire lit inside me as I listened to him breathe in through his nostrils.
Chapter Six
AS WE CAME back into the room, Hollis was telling Pennsylvania something about the state of American literature. Pennsylvania had a way of listening, or appearing to listen so that everything seemed mildly interesting but still unimportant.
To hear Hollis you’d think he was Nicholas Sparks, Stephen King and James Patterson rolled into one. He self-published some stoner nonsense that was barely even in sentences as far as I could tell. He said they were men’s adventure stories.
Once to get him off my back I tried to read one of them. Not that I’m any great literature critic but it didn’t seem to me like there was a massive demand for incoherent rambling with bursts of incoherent and unrealistic sex. I have no idea how much of it he published and he was always saying they sold really well, but then, Hollis said a lot of stuff.
“Will I have read any of them, Hollis?” Pennsylvania said, “Do you publish any of them on the Amazon?”
Liam said, “Or maybe you’ve got a traditional publisher. That’s what they call them, Declan, the old established publishers. They call them ‘Trad’ now.”
Declan looked up, “Is that right? I thought they were called the ‘New York’ publishers.”
Liam sat on the couch beside Hollis. “I believe they call them that, too, but that’s only for the big five.”
Hollis said, “A book of mine was a bestseller. It was called ‘Ripped In Two.’ I don’t know if you’ve read that.” He paid me no attention at all as I put the tray on the coffee table. I left it for the men to help themselves, if any of them decided they wanted coffee.
“Oh, I think I did read that,” Pennsylvania said, Hollis swelled and Pennsylvania said, “It’s an awful story where a man gets tied by his wrists between two tractors and the bad guys drive away in opposite directions and rip him in half.”
Liam sat back. “You told me about that. I remember it particularly because we couldn’t decide how well it would work.” Hollis was looking from one man to the other, trying to get back in the conversation.
“That’s right,” Pennsylvania was animated, “Because, as you said, quite rightly I thought, the most likely thing would be that it would just pull both of your man’s arms off.”
“That’s what I thought, and if you want to know, I still think it now. And as you said, that would not be ideal at all because after his arms have come off, your man’s not tied or detained in any way. I remember you mentioned that at the time.” While he spoke to his partner, Liam’s eyes stayed on Hollis, “Very perceptive of you I thought.”
Pennsylvania said, “You see, Hollis, that would expose the bad guys to the risk that the victim will get up and run into a hospital.”
Before Hollis could speak, Liam said, “In fairness, the hospital would have to be pretty near by.”
Pennsylvania nodded. “It’s true, he’d not be running all that far, you’re right there.”
“See, what I think, Hollis, if you don’t mind my saying so, is you missed an opportunity there.”
Quietly I sat on the free chair. It gave me a strange feeling to watch these two men dominate Hollis. He had bullied and dominated me, and everyone around him was intimidated by him. Seeing the tables turned on him gave me a tingling thrill.
Liam said, “You see, if you’ve tied a rope around each of his wrists and tied the other end to a tractor, why would you not get another two ropes, and tie them to his ankles as well?”
Declan added, “That would definitely nail the running away problem.”
Hollis finally was able to jump in. “But maybe the killer didn’t have enough rope.” He said it like it was a triumph. A coup de grace.
Pennsylvania looked at him a while. “What an interesting turn of phrase, Declan.”
Hollis grinned. “That’s the writer’s mind at work though.”
Liam asked him, “Have you got enough rope, Hollis?”
Hollis’s head snapped around. For the first time it seemed like he was awake and paying attention. “What?”
Liam said, “We don’t have two tractors, Declan.” Pennsylvania didn’t miss a beat, but the word hung there. Even Hollis’s eyes flickered when he heard it.
“Oh, so we don’t. But we’ve a sturdy SUV. All we’d need would be a nice, strong tree. See, the two tractors thing, it’s dramatic alright. Good for a movie or the plot in a story. But you only need to tie your candidate to the one moving force, and then to something on the other side that won’t move.”
The two men looked at Hollis, nodding as Liam said, “It doesn’t have the dramatic flourish and it wouldn’t look as good on screen.”
Declan. Now I knew two names. And Hollis knew at least one. They felt like very dangerous things to know.
I wasn’t sorry to know them, though. Not then.
Liam smiled, “Two tractors faced away from each other. High up in a field at dawn, on the horizon and in silhouette. And the unhappy subject is collapsed, kneeling and bent over between them. Can you picture it, Declan?”
He’d said it again. I was sure he’d done that just in case Hollis was stupid enough to have missed it the first time or to have thought it was an accident.
Pennsylvania, Declan, said, “The tractors start up. They shake and smoke.” His voice was deep and strong as he told it like he was narrating.
Liam spread his arms, “And as they begin to move, the two ropes straighten.”
“The victim’s arms lift.”
“He holds up his head. Brave to the last.” Liam stood. He paused, looking down at Hollis. “All very good for the screen. In real life, you’d mainly want something that just got the job done.”
Declan stood, too. “Speaking of which, we’ve work to do now.”
====
When the two men in black left, Declan carried a heavy brown bag. Not even a new one. He carried it with some distaste while I showed them out.
As I closed the front door I heard that Hollis had managed to separate himself from the couch, and made it all the way to the doorway of the lounge. He called down the hallway, “Do you think they’ll count it?”
Not really listening, I said, “Sure,” before I registered what he’d said. Then for a moment I froze.
As I turned back into the house, I saw the anger in his eyes, “Are you sure?”
That was so like Hollis, to ask me what I thought and then get outraged about it. Without interest I wondered whether he would start beating me. One day he’d cause me some serious damage for sure. Maybe today.
I said, “They won’t count it. They won’t, I’m certain.” I didn’t even know what ‘it’ was, although I was pretty sure I could crack it with one guess.
Hollis was straight out the back door then. Considering how hopelessly loaded he was, he moved at quite a speed. After a moment I heard his pickup spray shale as it hauled out of the driveway.
As hard as he had obviously tried with Hollis, I blamed his father, Hoagie. How else could Hollis have reached his thirties with such a soft head full of dumb, childish ideas? Thinking that, if he just wanted something bad enough, he could have it. Not earn it, not buy it. Not even have to go and get it. Whatever he wanted was his by right and he had no need to thank anyone for it.
Not even his father. Whatever his business had been with the men in dark suits and shades, I guessed that this time he’d stepped too far out of his playpen. Pennsylvania and New England weren’t afraid of him,
or his father, and they didn’t look to me like they would be too impressed by his money. Especially not if it came up short.
Chapter Seven
MY LIFE IN the daytime is perfect. Or at least, it appears that way outwardly. I am the envy of all the ladies in our small town. Most of the women, too, but I won’t dwell too much on the difference too much at this point.
I visit the DeLacey Doily for coffee each morning. The wives of all of the important men in town are here from about eleven. We all gather, meet and greet, smile at each other on the outside. On the inside something else may well be going on, but we perhaps we’ll leave that to the side for now, too.
Two Hitmen: A Double Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Lawless Book 1) Page 3