When I pull the shirt from his mouth, he licks his lips and begins pleading.
“Don, please. I’m sorry. I was a different person then. I was angry and I shouldn’t have hurt you. I know. I’m sorry, Don. Please, please don’t hurt me.”
I grit my teeth when he calls me Don. I’ve always fucking hated it. “You were different? The person you are now is a better person?” I question. “With the pictures of underage girls?”
“They’re not . . . Don, they’re not underage. I promise. I’m not. Fuck. I don’t even know what to say.”
“There’s not much for you to say at all, Michael. Damage has been done.”
“I’m sorry. What do you want from me?” he pleads, his voice getting louder.
“I want you to keep your fucking voice down, for one. Your fucking neighbors ruined my plans by having a party tonight, and I don’t need you drawing their attention.”
“Don’t hurt me, Don.”
“Stop calling me Don,” I seethe.
“Donovan, please. Please don’t hurt me. I have—”
“You have nothing, Michael,” I say, preventing him from lying to me. “I know you don’t have kids. Your wife is dead. You have nobody and you know it. And I’m not going to hurt you.”
“You’re not?” he asks, sounding relieved.
“No,” I say with a sinister smile. “I’m not in the right place to hurt you like I want to. Fortunately for yourself. However, I’m still going to kill you.”
He tries to get off the bed, but with his hands still tied behind his back, he struggles, rolling to the ground. I calmly walk around where he lies on his stomach, trying to roll over. With a kick to his side, I turn him to his back and stare down into his crying eyes.
“My, how the tables have turned.”
I pick him up and push him against the wall. With my left hand covering his mouth, I use my right to thrust the blade into his gut. Once. Twice. Three times for good measure. We stand there for a while, me making sure he doesn’t make a noise or try to run, and him groaning into my glove. Once he collapses to the floor, I cut the ties from his wrists and watch his blood soak into the carpet.
After washing my blade and gloves in his sink, I go back and check on him. He’s still hanging on, but barely. I take pleasure in sitting on the bed and watching the life leave his body. Once he’s dead, I make my way to the living room and shut off the light. A peak through the blinds tell me the party across the street is still going, but I don’t see anybody outside.
Just to be safe, I go out the back door and walk the half a block to my truck. I turn around before getting in, thinking I heard something behind me, but nobody’s there. The street is fairly quiet over here, and most of the houses are cloaked in darkness. As I start the car up and look in my rearview, I think I see someone standing near a tree.
After a full minute and no movement, I determine it’s just a shadow and make my way home.
AFTER I PULL into the parking lot of Celebrities, I take a minute to prepare myself for what I’m sure will be an annoying night full of drunk assholes who get on my fucking nerves. I put on my normal person façade and exit the car, knowing Nick is already inside.
“Donovan! You made it!” Nick yells, spotting me as soon as I enter the building.
The sports bar is dark with lights strung up around the room and several TVs mounted on the walls. Nick and a couple other guys are seated near the entrance with a table full of food and half empty beers.
“I told you I would. Happy birthday, man,” I say, sitting down next to Nick.
“Thanks, dude. Grab you some food, because we’re gonna be drinking the rest of the night.”
The waitress comes over and stands so close to me that her hip touches my arm.
“What can I get for ya?” she asks with a flirty smile.
“Burger and fries and whatever they’re drinking,” I answer.
She stands there a few seconds longer than necessary. “Let me know if you need anything else, okay?”
I give her a grin. “Will do.”
“Damn, Donovan. You could probably go fuck her on her break,” Nick says when she walks away.
I shrug and steal one of his fries. “She’s all right.”
Nick laughs. “Anyway, this is my cousin, Jake,” he says, gesturing to the only guy at the table I don’t know. “He’s in town visiting for a little while.”
“Hey,” I say, lifting my head slightly.
Tim is the other guy at the table, but he works with us, so I already know him. The lights bounce off his bald head as he scrolls through his phone.
“Miguel’s on his way,” Nick tells me.
“Great,” I murmur as the waitress drops my beer off. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” she chirps. “I like your tattoos,” she says, touching my arm.
I glance at her pink fingernails on my skin before looking up and giving her another smile. “Thanks.”
She walks off and I take a gulp of my beer as the guys all stare at me. “What?”
“You don’t even have to try. It makes me sick,” Tim say with a laugh.
I shrug again and smirk. “Sorry.”
“Fuckers!” The loud voice carries over the already booming noise in the bar. Fucking Miguel. I don’t even turn around.
“Hey, man,” Nick replies.
“You assholes start drinking without me?” Miguel asks.
“Of course,” Tim says, drinking the rest of his beer.
“Hey, doll,” Miguel calls out to our waitress as she’s at the table next to ours. “Bring me a beer, will ya?”
She gives him a tight smile and finishes up with that table before going to the bar. Miguel watches her as she walks away and then turns back to the table with a stupid grin. “She’s hot.”
“Well, she’s been on Donovan’s balls since he got here, so I don’t think you have a chance,” Nick says with a laugh.
Miguel then turns to look at me, and I return his stare as I take a drink, waiting for him to say something. “You interested?” he asks me.
“Maybe,” I reply, turning my attention to the TV that’s showing the Lakers/Bulls game.
The waitress returns with my food and Miguel’s beer, and while I eat, the guys argue about which bar we should go to after we’re done here. Miguel tries to convince everyone to go to some new place that opened up a few weeks ago.
“Nah, man,” Nick says. “I hate going to new places. Too many fucking people.”
“Yeah, but more people means more girls,” Miguel says.
“There will be girls at other places too,” Jake chimes in, scratching at his long beard.
“We should just go to the strip club that’s like fifteen minutes away, “Nick says. “Maybe the strippers will give me special treatment since it’s my birthday.”
“The 215?” Miguel asks, making a face.
“Yeah,” Nick answers.
“I don’t know, man. What do y’all think?”
“I think we should do whatever the fuck Nick wants to do since it’s his fucking birthday,” I answer, not being able to take his whiny shit anymore.
The following silence at the table is a little uncomfortable, and makes me realize maybe I overacted, but I fucking hate that guy.
I drink down the last of my beer. “Whatever, man. Nick, I’ll do whatever you want to do. I’m gonna go take a piss.”
When I emerge from the bathroom, I exit and find the waitress waiting for me.
“Hi,” she says shyly. “Umm. I just wanted to give you this,” she all but whispers, handing me a piece of paper.
I take it from her and glance at the name and number written across it. Mindy, with a heart replacing the dot over the i.
I slip it into the back pocket of my jeans. “Thanks, Mindy. I’m Donovan.”
“Hey, Donovan,” she says, tucking a blonde piece of hair behind her ear as she smiles. “Give me a call sometime if you want to get together.”
“Okay,”
I reply with a grin. “Have a good night.”
“You too.”
When I get back to the table, Nick’s grinning like an idiot. “Get her number?”
I smile. “Yep.”
He shakes his head. “Well, we’re going to the strip club next. Try to leave one for me.”
“Whatever, man,” I say with a chuckle. “Is Miguel outside crying about going?”
He grins. “He’ll be fine.”
Not if I get my hands on him. “Well, let’s get going,” I say.
It takes about twenty minutes to get there, and once we’re inside, we find a small table near the stage without having to actually be at the stage where they expect constant tips. The room is dark with a mix of glow-in-the-dark and strobe lights illuminating up certain parts of the club. The music fills the space, but it’s not too loud that we have to shout to hear each other.
“All right, shots to start off right,” Nick says, signaling to a waitress nearby.
“Five shots of Jack, please.”
Her bright green bikini top stretches across her tits, covering her nipples and not much else. She smiles and struts away on a pair of high heels like a pro.
“I’ll be right back,” Miguel says, slamming his hand down on the table before scurrying off.
“What’s he up to?” Tim asks.
With a shrug, Nick says, “Who knows.”
The waitress comes back with our shots balancing on a round tray. “All right, fellas. Here you go. We out celebrating something tonight?” she asks.
“It’s my cousin’s birthday,” Jake announces, grabbing Nick’s shoulder.
“Oh, is that right?” she flirts, batting her extremely long and probably fake lashes at Nick. “You gonna be a naughty boy tonight?”
“It wouldn’t be any different than any other night,” Nick replies with a grin.
“You boys are gonna be trouble tonight, aren’t you?” she says with a laugh, looking at all of us.
“Not me,” Tim says, raising his hands. “I’m a gentleman.” He flashes her a big smile.
“He’s full of shit,” Nick quips.
She shakes her head. “Well, can I get you anything else to drink? Beer?”
We all tell her our drink orders, and she flirts with all of us, working really hard for a good tip, and then makes her way back to the bar.
“Where the fuck is Miguel?” Jake asks as we all lift our shot glasses.
We look around, but don’t see him anywhere. “Fuck it,” I say. “Let’s take the shot. To Nick!”
“Whoo!” Nick exclaims, shaking his head after taking the shot. “Time to scope out who’s gonna give me my first lap dance.” He puts the shot glass down on the table and makes his way to the stage with Jake and Tim on his heels.
I stay back, telling myself it’s to hold the table and not because I’m enjoying being alone again, even if it’s just for a little while. My solitude is ruined when Miguel comes back and I instantly regret not going to the stage with the other guys. Getting an eyeful of ass and tits is much better than looking at Miguel’s face.
His eyes are small and dark, his wavy brown hair has way too much gel in it, and he always looks like he’s up to something.
“Where’s everyone else?” he asks, sitting across from me.
I use my head to gesture towards the stage and he turns to find them.
“Here we go,” our cocktail waitress says, placing the drinks on the small circular table.
“First round’s on me, I guess,” I say with a smirk, handing her a fifty.
“Well, aren’t you nice,” she flirts, touching my shoulder.
“I’ll take a beer,” Miguel chimes in.
The waitress seems to notice him for the first time. “Oh. Okay, I’ll be back.”
“Cheers to myself, I guess,” Miguel whines, taking his shot.
“Are you gonna act like a child all night?” I ask.
He squints his already beady eyes at me. “What?”
“You’ve been complaining all night. You fuckin’ left, man. What do you want us to do? Wait for you? Tonight’s not about you.”
“I know someone who works here. I went to go say hi.”
“Well, good for you.”
I get up and leave him at the table, finding my way over to the rest of the guys. I plop down next to Nick with a huff.
“You good?” he asks.
“Fine. Just getting away from that fuck face over there.”
He turns around to see Miguel and then looks back at me. “You really don’t like him, do you?”
“Nope. I don’t like most people, but something about him really gets on my fucking nerves.”
Nick chuckles. “He’s not worth it,” he says, using his elbow to gently hit my arm. “I think I’ve found my first lap dance provider.”
I snort. “Yeah? This one?” I ask, looking at the bleach blonde girl on stage.
“Oh yeah. She knows how to move.”
The dancer makes her way around the stage, lying on her back in front of us and lifting her legs in the air, making her ass shake. Nick puts a few bills in front of him, using it as stripper bait.
When she gets over to us, he leans forward with a huge grin, and she smiles at him, doing a few moves right in front of his face.
“How about a lap dance when you’re done?” Nick asks. She nods in response and finishes her dance.
We all go back to the table and finish our drinks, and Nick disappears with the stripper soon after. A couple other dancers make their way over to ask if we want dances, but only Jake takes one up on her offer.
I ignore whatever conversation Tim and Miguel are having, looking around the club instead. My eye catches a female bartender who’s looking at me. When I notice her, she looks away, like she didn’t want to be caught. In this place, girls will blatantly stare back at you, smile, and use their body language to get you to go over. Not this girl. She acts like she didn’t want me to see her looking at me.
After watching a particularly entertaining dancer on stage, I go to pick up my glass and find that it’s already empty. Our cocktail waitress is nowhere in sight, so I decide to go to the bar myself.
I try not to get annoyed as I push through the groups of people who seem to all be trying to keep me from the bar. I notice the same bartender look at me through the corner of her eye as she makes someone a drink, but another bartender takes my order. I look over at the girl, because her behavior has caught my attention.
She’s cute. Shoulder length hair that’s either brown or auburn. Hard to tell in this light. She turns and catches me looking at her as I wait for my drink. She does a double take and gives me a tiny smile. At first glance she looks innocent, but I can see something else lying underneath that exterior.
“Here you go, man,” the bartender tells me, putting my drink in front of me. “Twelve dollars.”
I hand him some money and think briefly about approaching the girl, but I decide not to. As I’m walking back to the table, I hear a voice call out.
“Hey!”
I turn and see the female bartender smirking at me. She doesn’t say anything else, so I walk back to the bar.
“Hey.”
“Do I know you?” she asks, studying my face.
“I don’t know. Do you?”
She looks me over. “I’m not sure. You look sorta familiar. What’s your name?”
“Donovan. What’s yours?”
“Leigh. Well, Analeigh, but most people just call me Leigh.”
I nod and take a sip of my drink. “So, do you know me, Analeigh?”
She smiles. “I don’t think so. When I saw you earlier, something about you rang familiar. Guess I was wrong. Doesn’t mean we can’t get to know each other, though.”
Her straightforwardness surprises me. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Well, Donovan,” she says with a grin, “I get off at two. Will you be closing this place down or what?”
I look back at the guys. “
Not sure. I’m here for my friend’s birthday. Don’t know what the plan is.”
She reaches over and grabs a small white napkin and pulls out a black marker from underneath the bar. I watch as she scribbles her number on it.
“Give me a call. Or a text. Whatever.”
I take the napkin and put it in my pocket with the other one. “Will do.”
Back at the table, everybody’s there, drinking and laughing. I take a glance at the time and see that it’s already a little after midnight. I have no doubt that we’ll close this place down. I don’t see the guys wanting to leave anytime soon. And truth be told, I don’t mind hanging around and waiting for Analeigh.
Just because I’m not really a people person, love my privacy, and do some immoral things from time to time, doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy being with a woman. I’m still a man.
I’ve never had serious relationships, more like friends with benefits. I don’t want a girl who wants to spend a whole lot of time at my house, or call me every other minute in the day. That would require me to put my normal person mask on too often. Sex I can do. I don’t want romantic dinners and I don’t want to binge-watch TV shows together.
I’ve already decided I’d rather see what Analeigh is about. Mindy seemed like the type who’d want more. Analeigh is asking to see me after she gets off work at two in the morning. Plus, something about Analeigh is intriguing. She’s more my type.
“Fuck! Donovan, you need to get a dance by Candy!” Nick yells, excitement in his voice.
“The bleach blonde?” I ask.
“Yes. I think I’m in love.”
We all laugh at him.
“Let me buy you another dance, cuz,” Jake says. “Maybe you’ll love that one, too.”
“I won’t turn down a free dance. Let me see,” Nick says, looking around the club for another girl.
“I saw you talking to that bartender,” Jake says. “She’s cute.”
“Yeah, she is,” I reply honestly.
“You got another one?” Nick exclaims, his cheeks and eyes red. I spot some more shot glasses on the table.
I smirk at him. “She’s not a stripper. You said to leave you a stripper.”
“Dick,” he says with a laugh.
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