The Dirty Dozen: Damsel Edition

by Kay Maree

  My phone lights up on the dash. Picking it up, I open the message. It’s from Jimmy.

  Jimmy - You coming?

  Me - Where? I write back.

  Jimmy - The Warehouse.

  FUCK I curse out slamming my hands down on my steering wheel. I forgot all about the stake out tonight. Damn it.

  Me - Fuck yup Bro coming.

  Jimmy - Well hurry up man like I’ve been here for hours I’m off it and I have pussy waiting at the club.

  Me – Fuck you’re sick.

  Jimmy – They love it and so do you.

  Me – Like fuck I do. I’m all class brother.

  Looking at the little lady in the window, she’s all class rolled inside pure perfection.

  Jimmy – Oh yep and Liza is classy, is she.

  Shaking my head at the dicks reply.

  Me – Na she’s all ass.

  I type back stealing a glance at the fire haired goddess. She’s everything those basic bitches at the club wish they were. Driving off toward the Warehouse, all I can think of is her. Her eyes, her tears and the way she makes my cock hard like no one else ever has and I haven’t even spoken to her or touched her.

  I’m fucked.

  Chapter Four

  In the air lies weight from sins untold and the whispers of the dead.

  ~ Micha Ragen

  Pulling around the back of the Warehouse, I slip in under the cover of darkness and rain. Fuck the rain, I hate it. Rain reminds me of the tears of my mother. It’s the only time in the first few years after my father and brother were killed that I heard or seen her cry, always under the cover of the sound of the rain inside a dark storm where she was battling her inner self to stay alive. She had nothing left but me and I did the one thing she made me promise I wouldn’t. I turned into the violent man that took all she loved from her.

  Taking the stairs up to the top floor, most of the windows have been smashed in and the place is howling with a haunted wind. Rain pelts in splashing onto the moldy floors as I walk toward Jimmy. We call him Jimmy tight lips because that man will keep all shit on lock down no matter how far the torture goes.

  “Fuck, finally dickwad, you decide to turn up.” He throws a used coffee cup at me. I catch it then biff it back at him.

  “Fuck you. I was busy.”

  “Doing?” he says while wiggling his fucking eyebrows at me.

  “A job, dick.” I sit down against the wall with the wind whipping around us.

  “This is fucking miserable,” I say as Jimmy pulls his knees up to his chest puffing on a cigarette.

  “Ya fucking think?” His eyes go to my knuckles bloodied with bruising setting in.

  “Easy one?” he asks me as I pour a hot brew from the flask by his feet into a plastic cup easy to burn so we leave no fingerprints.

  “Yup. In two days’ time I’ll be back and he’d best have the remainder.”

  “Oh, so no kill. You’re going soft.”

  “Never.”

  His eyebrow rises in question. This time I shake it off and take my smokes from my pocket.

  “What did the riddle say?”

  We all like to read the old man’s riddles.

  Taking the card from my pocket he takes it from me.

  Is maith liom è seo ach pian an chinniuint nò an è an fáth go bhfuil tu mall? Amanna anseo a thagann sé

  Riddle me this is pain just an illusion of fate or is it the reason your late? Times up here he comes.

  His head goes back in laughter.

  “The old man is good. I’ll give him that. Was he waiting?”

  “Well when I kicked in his door, he fell back hard and fast. I really didn’t give him time to think too much.” Stubbing my smoke out I sipped my coffee as Jimmy passed back the card.

  “Right, as much as I like watching these dick bags and assisting in your vendetta against these piss bags, my dick needs to be sucked.” He stands and slaps me on my back.

  “Catch ya in the AM,” he says grabbing his backpack.

  “Thanks, bro,” I say my eyes watching the compound across the street. Times running out Damon. I am coming for you.

  I should have never hesitated in killing him those first weeks that I found him. The nights I watched him go about like a god, no like the king of kings, drinking from the cup of sin while lining his pockets with the street’s gold.

  So many times, I could have just put a bullet in his skull.

  Quick.

  Clean.

  And easy, oh so easy.

  Well, semi-clean.

  Blood still splatters regardless.

  But it’s the games I like to play that keep him alive. For now, at least.

  I’m waiting for the delivery van we use to deliver the bouquets at all random hours and places. The wind howls as the rain whips in around me. I pull my jacket further around my ears, settling in to watch the great man squirm.

  Looking at my watch, the delivery is right on time. He places the bouquet on the steps of the compound. The guard opened the gates without hesitation. Blood will be shed for that rookie move. Hitting the call bell then walking back to the van, he’s driving off as Damon comes to the door. I get to look at him dressed in a royal blue suit, gold tie and black shoes. Always the same. I wonder if he kept the suit he killed my father in, or did he discard it as easily as he took his life. He looks around, the look of dread hitting his features, knowing too well what this is. I see him pale as he rips the card from the center of the wreath.

  Is maith liom…. Tagann sè an là an dorchaclas ar oicheanta oighreata agus là geal. Tagann sè go dti na cathain agus na leapacha leapa. Tithe agus ď áit oibre. Nuar a thagann se, tagann sè ina aonar, deanann sè sciath ar guhalainn, ansin tà sé imither cè he….?

  Riddle me this… He comes to bedsides, icy bridges, battlefronts, and crumbling ridges. When he comes, He comes alone, taps a shoulder, then is gone. Who is he…..?

  His eyes dart around his compound as his body shakes. He knows someone’s watching but he has no clue who. You see him try and think… search his mind for clues as to who, why, what, when and where. He would never guess. That’s the thing about a man like him, he has many enemies. The difference though between them and me? I am careful, cold, and calculated. I am filled with a hate that turned into a sick passion to hurt him and all that he loves. I have yet to see a wife or kids. Doesn’t surprise me though, as a man like that only loves himself.

  He screams for his men and they all come running. The flowers get picked up and the door slammed. I laugh to myself as I check all my gear in my bag and light one more cigarette. Taking a long drag, the welcome burn of the smoke fills my lungs. I check that my Ruger is loaded and ready to go. I flick the safety, then stuff it into the waistband of my jeans. I pull a plain black hoodie over my t-shirt and stuff my jacket into the duffle bag. Grabbing my balaclava from inside the bag, I roll it over my face so my eyes and mouth are the only visible parts. The rain has set in which is good. It will help mask some of my movements - not all, but some of them at least. Stealing one last look over toward the compound I see they are all busy running around the compound. It’s in high alert and I can’t help but laugh. Playing with him is satisfying. The outside lights all get flicked on and men are positioned at windows where you can see their silhouettes. Next stage of fuck with Damon is send him a message from inside his compound. Two men tonight should be good. Last week it was one. That quelled my bloodlust for this fucker for 7 days. Two should give me two weeks at least. I need to find out more about the young girl with the sad eyes.

  I take the same exit as Jimmy as the back is quicker to the adjoining street that gives me access to the back of his compound. The rain pelts down on my skin and the wind loud as the sky lights up with lightning strikes as thunder erupts. This is good. Pulling my rope from my bag, I unwind it from around the steel grip and throw it over the concrete pulling back until it bites into the wall on the other side. I crack my sho
ulders and neck before I pull myself over the wall. At the top my hands find shards of glass and barbed wire embedded into the concrete and a hiss leaves me as my skin is pierced from the wire. I suck the blood from my skin as I unhook the rope and throw it back over the other side so that my escape route is ready for when I need to run.

  Waiting… Timing my next jump for when the skies open with a clap of thunder. It bellows out and I jump falling into the roses below. Taking deep breaths in and out I try to calm it down to a slower pace so I can hear any noise around me. Slowly I move from the bushes staying concealed in the shadows of the garden, not wanting any lighting strike to light me up. Men are walking back and forward past the windows and the door into the house. I don’t need to enter; I just need to get close enough to take the two men out and leave their blood on his front step with another riddle.

  Slipping through the dark of the garden taking slow controlled breaths, I come up behind the first guy. I grab him around the back of the head, my blade slicing a fast, thick line around the front of his throat and a warm pool of blood drips down over my blade to my fingers as he falls back unaware of what just happened. Falling to the ground his eyes meet mine before the glaze of death wash over them. Crouching down over him I watch as the blood drains from his throat. It’s a small slice that’s opened up with a river of crimson running over the ground in front of him. My body hums with the kill, the bloodlust feeling alive. This makes me feel alive. I change from a dead man to half-beast while feeding on the feeling. The smell that lingers in the air and the mercury taste sitting on the top of your tongue while drawing small designs in the blood as my eyes scan the area for my next victim.

  Tonight, is the night I’ve been waiting for. I’ve spent weeks planning and plotting each of the Irish’s demise. I’ve sat back and pulled strings, watching each of my pawns move across the board, letting them think they have the choice over their next move.

  Slowly, I’ve been plucking off members of the Irish mob. Making it look like rival attacks from lower mobs threatened by their power. Oh no, Damon, your worst nightmare is coming and he’s a man now. No longer a boy who watched you take the one man he adored.

  My next kill for tonight was closer to the front door hiding along the side of the house. I creep along the wet concrete as the thunder bellowed and the rain fell. 1,2,3 the lightning strikes. I waited again for the next clap of thunder. It came 40 seconds after the first clap. I waited 1,2,3 lighting strike again then repeated another 40 seconds later. Thank you, mother nature, for being on time. With the next belt of thunder, I leapt from my hiding spot, my blade running through his throat as his eyes burned into mine. His body tensed then fell and he gurgled on his blood as I watched the death glaze flood his stunned eyes. The blood pooled around my feet as it exited his body. Wiping my knife on my jeans, I place it back in my sheath on my hip, pull my hoodie back over the sheath and pull the note from my pocket. With a smear of blood attached, I tack it to his front door.

  Riddle me this… They gave you everything... You gave them nothing but silent echoes of pain. Can you feel the sandman... He’s coming. Are you sleeping or waking?

  Power washes over me as I walk from the front steps toward the back wall. I pick up a rock from the garden and get ready to throw it through the lounge window. Petty? Yes. Alerting them to the fact that I have been, and they didn’t even know it. Men were killed. Their blood mixing with the rain over the grounds they failed to protect.

  It’s then that I see her. Her fire red hair is falling in damp curls around her as she sits alone. She’s in the dark under a small courtyard canopy. Her arms are wrapped around her knees, pulled tight to her chest. Could she really be here? Is it her, really?

  Why the hell is she here? How is she here?

  Rubbing my hands over my eyes, swiping the water from my vision, I shake out the bloodlust and place the beast back to sleep. I step closer to this beauty as I need to know if it’s her or a ghost. She’s dressed in white. The fabric sticks to her skin as the rain falls like her silent tears that fall down her beautiful face. Why is she here, and why is she crying?

  My hand falls to my gun. Either my mind is fucking with me or one of his team is the girl I’ve been worshiping in the nighttime hours. She is indeed sitting in this sicko’s compound. Stepping closer as I may just need to fire, I’d much rather slice, but shit, if it calls for a bullet then a bullet it is.

  The closer I get the more my mind screams no, it isn’t so. It’s her. The girl from the coffee shop. The girl that runs around the lake. The woman who has invaded all of my waking hours.

  Crouching down in the shadows so I could just watch her, sitting there alone in the dark. Her small body is trembling with sobs and the harsh pelt of cold rain. It has me wanting to take off my clothes give them to her and steal her from this hell hole. But why... why is this the place she has to be the night I’m here to kill and destroy.

  I’m hesitating. I should kill her, but I just can’t seem to do it. It’s solely for my own benefit because I love to watch her.

  Sitting there in the rain, still, silent bar her sobs and the rain. The lightning and thunder had all but disappeared, it was just us and the dark.

  She is so fucking sexy. I couldn’t ignore that fact. I glanced at her slowly rising chest, then stood up and walked over to her. I knew I shouldn’t, I knew I should leave before they are alerted to the two dead men in the front yard and the note on the door. I can’t though. I slowly closed the space between us. She was gorgeous. Her hair was thick, bright red and shining in the dim lights falling around her from the fairy lights pinned to the courtyard roof. I couldn’t stop staring at her. My heart beat so fast and my cock hummed under the weight of my heavy, wet, denim jeans. I shook my head, then took a step away from her while still staring at her body. No way could I be this close without something bad happening. As I stepped back, she looked up. “I am coming in. Just give me five more minutes,” she said to my figure concealed by the dark and I looked around checking no one else is there. “I said five more minutes. You don’t need to stand there and count. Tell him I am just in the garden.” Her voice cracks over the sad tones of emotions leaving her body. She sounds broken. I stepped from the shadows toward her. “I said I’ll be in soon. Just leave me alone.” I really can’t have her talking if I want to stay watching her, so I take the plunge and step into her line of vision, my hands up showing her I am of no threat to her.

  “Shhhh, don’t scream,” I say crouching down in front of her. “Who the hell are you?” she asks me, her voice a whimper this time but not concealing her shock.

  “I’m no one but I’m everyone,” I say to her. I watch her look around for the security team. “I killed them,” I say taking her hand in mine. I needed to touch her. She pulls back “You did what?” Her voice is an angered whisper now. “Killed them,” I said bluntly. “Um, ok and why?” Her body moves back on the seat. I see the flight thought wash through her eyes. I can’t have her running inside… not yet. “Riddle me this…Not all is as it seems. Inside the light always looms a dark.”

  Her eyes go wide as her brain pieces that piece of information together.

  “Ahh, you’re the silent killer, the tormentor of his soul and the reason for all the extra men that you seem to just kill anyway.”

  Smiling as I bring myself closer to her while still hunched down on my legs, I stay hidden behind her body. I don’t want to blow her up with pellets if they see me and open fire.

  “I am,” I say to her. “And you’re the guy that watches me from the coffee shop.” For the first time I actually get to look into her eyes as her head rises from her knees showing me the most incredible green color with streaks of yellow. “Why are you crying?” I say wiping a tear that’s falling down her check. She doesn’t flinch back from my touch, she doesn’t cower. She’s not scarred of me, but she should be. I could slit her throat. Right here, right now. Let her fall into a pool of her own beautiful blood that I bet is a
deep rich red.

  “Why do you care?” She says fast, her eyes slipping from mine and staring past me into the dark.

  “I care because I am a man and you’re a woman. You shouldn’t be in the dark in the rain crying.”

  “Who are you?” She asked me, her eyes still filled with unshed tears lock with mine as my hand reaches out cupping her porcelain skin.

  “I told you already. I’m no one but everyone.”

  “No. Who are you? Why are you doing this?” I glanced down, not sure what I should tell her. I want her to trust me. For some strange, stupid reason I want her. I don’t want anything but vengeance, death and blood. I want the screams of Damon to walk inside my mind at night, not the sobs of my mother or the gurgling sound of my dying father and brother.

  The safe bet was to just tell her nothing, walk away now. Maybe kiss her lips then walk away.

  “Please, tell me. Who are you?” Her plea rips over me. I feel something inside of me flutter. It can’t be feelings, I have none.

  Kill her. Should I? And then slip inside kill Damon and walk away from this. No more riddles, no more games. Just death.

  I couldn’t do that shit. I couldn’t kill her. She’s a woman, and a fucking sexy one at that, and he could be the reason she’s so sad.

  “I work for the Ragen Family.”

  “I don’t know what that is.” I frowned at her.

  “Are you serious?” She nods at me turning her eyes to look behind her at the back door to the house. “No-one is coming,” I say. “I can see right inside from here.” She nods her eyes turning back to mine.

  “I seriously don’t know who they are.”

  “We’re the ItalianIrish Mafia. We’re the biggest crime family in the city.” She looked away from me. My palm itched to pull her eyes back to mine.

  “I guess my Uncle pissed you guys off.” I laughed, shaking my head.

  That was a fucking understatement.