I’m trapped.
I want to put off seeing Steve for as long as possible, so I rush back back to my office. Unfortunately, I won’t be getting any much needed alone time, because Toby is in my office, waiting for me.
“Good morning, Toby,” I say with a tight throat.
I sit at my desk across from him, not liking what I see. Toby looks like shit. He’s sweating so hard his shirt is damp. There are dark circles under his eyes, like he hasn’t slept in days. He’s tapping his foot so frantically the floor is vibrating. Oh fuck, I think.
I soften my face, and fold my hands in front of me. “What can I do for you-“
“I can’t do this,” Toby blurts out, cutting me off.
“Toby-“
“No, Jess. I can’t do this. I’m nervous all the time. Whenever I pass a police car, I want to vomit. I can’t sleep, because when I do, I dream about SWAT teams kicking down my door.” He buries his face in his trembling hands. “You bitch,” he grumbles. “You fucking bitch. What have you gotten me into?”
I take a deep breath to calm myself down, then walk over to him, and place my hand on his shoulder.
“It’s okay, Toby. It’s going to be fine.”
He smacks my hand away, and looks at me with wild eyes. “I’m going to the police,” he spits. “I’m going to tell them everything.”
I straighten my back, losing the compassionate act, and make my face stern.
“That’s a mistake, Toby,” I say. “You don’t want to do that.”
Toby wipes his face on his sleeve, then looks right at me. He’s stopped tapping his foot. He’s stopped shaking. He has real fury in his eyes.
“Or what? You’re going to kill my mother. I’ll get the police to protect her.”
“That’s not going to work. They’ll find her.”
“Then I’ll put her on a plane. Send her far away from here,” Toby says. “You and your friends think you can do whatever you want? What kind of person are you?”
The question hits me right in the gut. I narrow my eyes at him. “If you’re going to the police, why are you telling me this?”
“Because, unlike you, I don’t want to crucify people.”
I throw up my hands. “What do you want? More money? We could work something out.”
Toby shakes his head. “I don’t want anything from you. I want out.”
“Toby,” I sigh. “I don’t think that’s possible.”
Toby stands up shakily. “It is. Tell the mobster you’re fucking that I want out, or I’ll talk.” He brushes past me, then storms out of my office, slamming the door behind him.
In the sudden silence, I realize how hard my heart is pounding. This is it. Toby’s going to talk. I’m going to prison. Maybe it’s what I deserve.
Fear makes my blood pressure drop suddenly. Feeling lightheaded, I sit behind my desk. What kind of person am I? A horrible one from my estimation. I deserve every consequence that comes my way. But my sense of self-preservation rises up fighting. I have to get out of this. I text Snake.
We have a problem.
*
On my lunch break, I meet Snake at the Italian grocer under his apartment. It’s across the city from ShopSuite, and it’s the one place I know I won’t run into any of my co-workers. Snake’s sandwich remains untouched as I tell him what went down with Toby this morning.
“Can’t we just let him go?” I ask. “We can buy him a bus ticket, get him the hell out of here.”
Snake doesn’t answer. He stares numbly in the distance.
“It’s my fault,” I admit. “Toby was never the right guy for the job. He ratted on me in the past-“
“He did what?” Snake asks, jerking his gaze towards me.
I play with the paper around my sandwich. “When he compiled the credit card numbers for me. He told Steve. But don’t worry. I got out of it.”
Snake’s eyes darken. Fear tightens my chest. I haven’t seen that look on his face in ages, the one he’d give me right before he reminded me of his gun.
“Why didn't you tell me that?” he asks.
Heat rises to my chest and face. “I wasn’t, uh, all in at the time.”
Snake raises an eyebrow. “All in? So, are you all in now?”
“Yes, of course.” I take a quick sip of lemon soda. Snake continues to stare at me for a few moments. I feel myself withering under his gaze. “So, what do we do?”
Snake sits back in his chair, his legs spread. “I’ll have to go to Monty with this.”
“Him?” I spit, a knee-jerk reaction.
Snake glares at me suspiciously. “Yes. Him. The capo. My boss.” He leans forward, looking right into my eyes. “And your boss too, whether you like it or not.”
I hate the way he’s talking to me. I roll my eyes, looking away.
“This is the way we do things,” Snake says in a low voice. “You wanted to be included, so you are. I suggest you learn how to handle it.”
I bristle at this, and accept the challenge. “Okay,” I say, casually. “We’ll talk to Monty.”
After lunch, Snake walks me to my car. He’s silent, walking with his hands in his pocket. When we get to my car, I start to open the door, but he stops me.
“Jess,” he says, swinging his head down. He swipes his fingers through his thick hair. “Look, I don’t mean to be an asshole. Sometimes it just happens.”
I’m still a little pissed. I just shrug, and murmur, “Mmm-hmm.”
Snake steps closer to me. He slips his finger under my chin, lifting my head up. “I don’t want anything to ever happen to you. And I’m going to make sure it doesn’t.” He kisses me lightly on the lips. “I’ll protect you. No matter what,” he promises.
I believe him. I believe every word he says. I collapse against his chest, letting him kiss me again. I just hope that in the process of him protecting me, no one else has to die.
*
“Get rid of him,” Monty says, then takes a bite of his gigantic, and sloppy, meatball sub.
Snake folds his hands in front of his face, nodding coldly. I watch with disgust as a meatball falls out of Monty’s sandwich, and lands with a wet thud on his desk.
“Get rid of him?” I ask. “What does that mean? Send him away?”
Monty cocks an eyebrow at me. “No, that’s not what that means.” He glances at Snake with a questioning look.
“Then why don’t you tell us exactly what you mean?” I say.
I feel Snake give me a warning look, but I continue to stare at Monty, challenging him to answer the question.
“Snake knows what I mean,” Monty says, coldly. “He knows what to do.” He picks up the meatball with his bare fingers and shoves it back into the bread.
Anger creeps up my spine. I think of Monty at Dr. Stone’s office, the look on his face when he handed over that envelope of money. This guy’s gone through life doing whatever rotten thing he wanted to do, and has never had to face any of the consequences.
This fucking gluttonous creep, I think. I wish I had my gun right now.
“So, kill him,” I say, bluntly.
Monty looks up from his sandwich, glaring at me. The evil in his eyes gives me a chill, but I brush it off.
I throw up my hands. “I’m just trying to be clear. Someone gets in your way, or inconveniences you in the slightest, you kill them. Right?”
Snake straightens up in his chair as Monty’s gaze darkens. I’m starting to think I pushed things too far, until Monty suddenly starts laughing.
“Jesus,” Monty says, wiping his brow. “What crawled up your panties today? You got a hard-on for this fucking computer guy or something? Snake, you going to let some nerd steal your girl?” Monty claps his hands, laughing so hard he begins to wheeze. After a brief coughing fit, he starts to talk again. “Yes, kill him. Okay? You got that? This is the mob, sweetheart. It’s how we do business.” He picks up his sub, pointing at me. “I only allow someone with a great pair of tits to talk to me like that. So take it as
a compliment.”
“Compliment,” I growl.
Snake grabs my arm, pulling me up before I say anymore.
“Got it, boss,” Snake says, leading me to the door. “Consider it done.”
Out in the hallway, Snake grabs my wrist, pulling me towards him. His grip is cold and hard.
“What the fuck were you doing in there?” Snake says.
I’m still seething from being in Monty’s presence. I feel my need for revenge rising up, making me ravenous. I yank my arm, hard, breaking it from Snake’s grasp.
“You’re actually going to do it?” I ask. “You’re going to kill Toby because he got scared?”
Snake leans down, whispering coldly in my ear. “I am. That was my order. I’m going to follow through.”
I hate the way my stomach leaps with fear and lust, the excitement that bubbles in my belly when I look into Snake’s cold, dark eyes. I hate knowing that I never want to live without him. In this moment, I hate him.
“Snake, the good soldier,” I say, mockingly. “The Mariano’s before anything else. If that’s true, then why am I still here?”
Snake clenches his jaw, making me wince. Fear tightens my chest while heat simultaneously flushes between my legs. What’s wrong with me? He snakes his hand around my neck, grabbing the back of it, making me look at him. The corner of his mouth turns up in a half smile.
“You don’t know when to quit, do you?” Snake growls. “How about I take you back home, and fuck some sense into you?”
I hate him. He’s evil. He’s hot. He’s powerful. I want him.
I step towards him, running the back of my hand up the shaft of his cock.
“You better do that,” I warn.
It’s a tense ride back to my apartment. Snake is quiet, and still as stone, as he calmly drives. My skin is hot to the touch, my thighs clenched in anticipation of what’s to come. Pent-up rage and lust threatens to break me loose at the seams. I’m too worked up to consider the morality of the situation. I need Snake inside of me.
I walk into the apartment, and stand in the living room, facing him. Snake casually drops the car keys on the counter. With his hands in his pockets, he walks towards me, slowly. I stand my ground, not backing up an inch, even though my instinct tells me to run.
He stops close to me, so close my breasts are against his chest. He combs his fingers through my hair, then gathers it in a fist.
“Don’t ever question my loyalty again,” Snake hisses through his teeth. “Is that clear?”
Fucking cocky bastard, I think, as my panties flood with wetness.
“You don’t tell me what to think,” I say, defiantly.
Snake pulls my hair harshly, yanking my head back, and exposing my vulnerable neck. He licks up the side of my neck, slowly trailing the tip of his tongue over my skin, then sinks his teeth into my earlobe.
“I know how to shut you up,” he says, into my ear.
I want to spit back an insult, but a deep shudder chokes my voice. What comes out is a moan.
“See?” Snake says. He starts unbuttoning my blouse. “I have complete control over your body. This belongs to me.” He opens my blouse, then seductively kisses the tops of my breasts. He hikes up my skirt, then thrusts his fingers into my panties, seeing exactly what he’s doing to me. He groans against my ear as he plays in my wetness. “I know what you like, Jess. You like danger. You need a man like me.”
Snake hooks his other arm around my waist, then starts to finger me. He presses hard into my g-spot, massaging, coaxing my release. My eyelids fall, and my lips part.
“Admit it,” he growls, bringing me closer to climax. “These hands make you come, but they’ve also killed, and you like that.”
I grit my teeth, refusing to answer.
“Admit it,” Snake says, massaging harder. His thumb comes up to press into my clit.
My knees buckle beneath me. My body is giving in to the pleasure he’s giving me. I want to smack him, to tell him I hate him, that I want nothing to do him.
“Admit,” Snake says again, thrusting harder.
I take a deep breath, preparing to yell in his face, when a powerful orgasm crashes through me.
“Yes,” I scream, grabbing his coat for dear life.
Snake continues his work with his hand while I come. While I’m gripped by pleasure, writhing in his arms, a truth comes to light. I do get off on the danger. It heats my blood, it makes me feel alive. Snake’s brutality stirs something deep inside of me that I’ll never be able to forget.
When I’m finished, Snake throws me on the couch, then takes off his clothes. He grabs my legs, propping them up on his shoulders, then sinks inside of me.
“I’m the only one, Jess,” he says while fucking me. “I’m the only one that can have you. I’m the only one you need.”
In the back of my mind, I know he’s talking about Jake. His cock banging inside of me flushes out all thoughts of my dead fiancé. For as long as I ride the tumultuous wave of pleasure, Snake is the only one.
*
Later that night, the intensity of our hate fuck has faded. Snake comes into the bathroom where I’m taking a shower. He leans against the shower door.
“You don’t have to be there if you don’t want to,” Snake says. “When we get Toby.”
I let the warm water flow over my face, considering this. I shut off the shower and open the door.
“I’ll be there,” I tell Snake. He nods, then walks out the bathroom.
I have to be there. I need to see the consequences of my actions for myself. I can’t look away.
Chapter Twenty-One
Snake
Toby’s last night on earth comes up fast.
It’s dark. Almost midnight. Toby lives in a shitty apartment complex in Park Mesa Heights. It’s Friday night. The place is quiet, almost dead. Most of the residents here are probably out barhopping, but not Toby. He’s in his apartment, all alone.
Jess waits in the car while Salvatore, Bruno, and I walk up the stairs to Toby’s apartment. We’re dressed in all black, and keep absolutely quiet. Some tough LA streets gangs own territory around here, and we don’t want to start anything up. The goal is to get in and get out, all while keeping a low profile.
I should be focusing on how to quickly and efficiently carry out these orders, with as little problem as possible. Usually, I’d be going over different scenarios in my head, preparing myself for anything that could happen.
I’m not focused at all. Unlike past hits, I know the guy we’re killing. And I know Jess really doesn’t want me to kill him.
You’re a fucking soldier, I think, squeezing my hands into fists. Act like it.
Salvatore points at door on the third floor. I nod, confirming that this is one. Sal knocks on the door, three quick, piercing knocks, then steps to the side. We wait for awhile. I hear footsteps walking up to the door. The door doesn’t open. I know Toby’s looking at us through the peephole, probably scared shitless.
“We know you’re in there, Toby” I say. “Open up, or I’ll have Bruno open it for you.”
Bruno walks up to the door, putting his eye right up to the peephole. There’s a scuffle, probably Toby shuffling backwards.
“Just a second,” says a squeaky voice.
But the door doesn’t open. I figured Toby would try something stupid. He’s probably grabbing his phone to call the police. I give Bruno the signal.
Bruno smashes his elbow in the door, right at the lock. It’s a clean, fierce hit that doesn’t make much noise, and packs a lot of power. He hits it a couple more times, and the bolt pops out of the lock, allowing the door to swing open easily. We show ourselves inside.
A video game blares from the television, something with crashing cars and lots of guns. Toby’s at the back of the room, clutching his cellphone. He’s wearing a t-shirt and boxer shorts.
“Toby, Toby, Toby,” I say, waltzing inside. “We just wanted to talk. But you had to do things the hard way.”
Bruno walks up to him, and snatches the phone out of his hand. A single nine has been dialed.
“What do you want?” Toby asks. “I told Jess I wasn’t working for you anymore. I won’t say anything. I promise.”
“Well, shit,” Salvatore says. “That clears things up. Looks like we can go home, boys.” Salvatore grins, and we all start to laugh. Toby joins in. He looks a little relieved. Sal raises his hand, and we all go quiet. “Except for one problem. How do we know you won’t talk? Huh? We don’t. You’re a rat. Rats don’t change.”
“I swear, I swear on my life,” Toby says.
“Let’s take a drive, Toby,” I say, snapping my fingers.
Bruno clamps his gigantic hand down on Toby’s shoulder. It looks like Toby will crumble under the weight.
“Where are we going?” Toby asks.
I turn around to walk out. “You’ll see.”
Bruno keeps his hand on Toby, dragging him along as we make our way down the stairs. Jess is waiting in the driver’s seat. When she sees us, she starts up the engine and pops the trunk.
“No,” Toby says. He tries to run away, but Bruno is quick to grab him.
“Don’t fight it,” Bruno says, pushing him into the trunk. “It’ll only make things harder for you.” Bruno shoves his hand down, then quickly closes the trunk.
For the entire drive out to the desert, Toby doesn’t shut the fuck up. He kicks his legs and punches the roof, yelling at the top of his lungs. He pleads for his life and curses Jess between bouts of sobbing. I regret not tying him up, but I wanted things to be quick. And I thought he’d be smart enough not fight.
Everyone’s quiet, like they usually are on these rides. It’s strange having Jess here. I keep watching her, wondering what she’s thinking. Does she think I’m a brutal animal? Is she disgusted by me? Or has she finally resigned herself to the violence of this world?
Her eyes are cold and focused on the road ahead. She leans forward slightly, her lips tightly pursed. She’s been unpredictable in the past, so I start to worry.
When we get to the spot, I tell her stop. Salvatore and Bruno extract Toby from the trunk. They hold him while I tie his arms behind his back with rope, and shove a cloth bag over his head. Sal and Bruno escort him forward while Jess and I follow behind.
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