by Harley Fox
My pen stops mid-word. I look up and Lance is staring at me, and I feel that fluttering in my heart again. But it’s not like the fluttering I felt before. This one is full of excitement, and nervousness. And something else … something deeper …
I swallow, suddenly needing water again.
“A lot of my clients have jobs that require them to kill people,” I say to Lance. “People in the army. Police officers.”
But Lance shakes his head.
“This guy isn’t like any of those people,” he says. “This guy is the opposite of them.”
I swallow again. The bottle of water beckons to me and I pick it up, taking another drink. When I put it back it’s almost empty.
“And … how does this guy feel about the type of work he does?” I ask. Lance slowly smiles and his eyes burn directly into mine.
“He likes it a lot.”
I feel myself slowly nod.
“And … did something happen at this guy’s job that made you want to come see me?”
His smile falters. “No,” Lance says. “My job is just fine.”
I lean in. “Then why did you come to see me, Lance? What do you want to talk to me about?”
He looks uncomfortable, the first I’ve seen of this, and for a fleeting moment I feel certain that I’ve got him. It’s the right words, the right tone. His walls are slowly parting, if ever so slightly, and I know that if I watch him closely I’ll be able to see beyond those cracks to what’s hidden, just past his rugged exterior.
But then his smile comes back, and I can almost hear the brickwork crashing back together.
“I told you,” he says. “I’m only here because a friend told me to come here.”
I try to hide my disappointment as I nod. We look at each other, and each of us waits for the other one to say something. But it’s too late. I know that the moment’s passed. Lance almost opened up, and for a first session that’s actually very impressive. But his guard has surely doubled now, and he won’t be giving up anything else up today.
“Did you want to ask me anything else?” he says.
“That’s up to you,” I say. “Do you want to talk about anything else?”
“No,” Lance says, and he gets up out of the chair. “I think I’m done here.”
“Well,” I say, getting up too, “I’m surprised I’m saying this, but that was actually a good first session.”
Lance looks up at the clock. “Well you know, Doctor, these things usually last an hour, don’t they? We could pass the time in … other ways.”
My heart skips a beat in my chest, but I reel it back and level my gaze at Lance.
“I told you, what happened last night was a one-time thing. It will never happen again.”
“And I told you,” he says as he heads to the door. “Never say never.”
Lance opens the door and walks through as I poke my head out, unable to stop from glancing at his ass as he walks.
“Make another appointment with Amin,” I say, and Lance turns to look at me. “Same time, next week?”
He winks. “It’s a date.”
I try not to smile as I close the door, blocking him out of my sight. Turning around, I lean back against it and take a deep breath, then let it out slowly. Once I’ve collected myself, I go to grab my notepad, ready to make a new file for Lance.
Lance
Fifty-seven … fifty-eight … fifty-nine …
My cell phone vibrates and I pause in the middle of my last chin-up, looking over at where it sits on the coffee table. I read the name on the lighted screen and release a gust of breath through my nose.
Sixty.
Dropping down onto bare feet, I pad across my apartment’s grungy wooden floors and pick up the phone, swiping to answer it.
“Yeah?”
“Lance,” comes Gil’s slimy voice. “It’s been a while … We haven’t seen you around here lately …”
“No work,” I reply. “No reason for me to come in.”
“I’ve got work for you to do,” he says, and I can hear his smile through the phone like a snake. “Come to the restaurant.”
“Now?” I ask, looking out the window and into the bright sunlight. It’s the middle of the afternoon.
“Yes,” he bites, and I can tell his smile is gone. “Now.”
The line cuts dead and I look at my phone to see he hung up. I drop it back on the table, shaking my head, and walk to the bathroom to take a shower.
I haven’t been back to the restaurant in four days, but that’s just because I haven’t had any jobs to do. Gil knows perfectly well that I only do what I’m hired for, nothing more. I’m not about to spend my time lurking around some dank, windowless room shooting pool and sucking up to Gil.
I turn on the shower and strip off my boxers, the only piece of clothing I’m wearing. As the water takes a minute to heat up, I look at myself in the mirror, flexing my biceps. I always make it a point to stay in good shape. You need it for the kind of work I do. You never know when somebody’s going to try to run, fight, or beg for their life …
Nathan!!!
I open my eyes, once again unaware of having closed them. Shaking my head, I turn around and test the water with my hand before stepping in.
As the warm, cleansing spray washes the sweat from my body, I think back on the last job I did. The memory’s been fading as the days have gone on, which is a good thing. That first night, after I left Sandy’s place and came back here, I couldn’t fall asleep. Every time I did I kept seeing the guy’s face right behind my eyes. And his voice kept crying out … begging me to do what’s right. To make sure somebody took care of-
NO!
I breathe in and out, hard. This is not going to bother me. The guy got what he deserved. He does not need any of my sympathy.
Except that’s not exactly true, is it?
Because when I checked his background for performing the hit it turned out that Gil had lied a little about what exactly this man had done. It was enough to make me reconsider, but not enough, apparently, to turn the job down completely. Because I didn’t want to get on Gil’s bad side. Isn’t that right? That’s why I did it anyways. That’s why I did as I was told.
Like a good little doggy should.
The water splutters for a moment as I hear the neighbor’s toilet flush overhead. A moment later it goes back to its normal pressure.
I shake my head. I’ve got to stop thinking about this. The job is done and there’s nothing I can do about it. I turn around and drop my head, letting the warm shower envelop me, take me to a more relaxed place.
She would know exactly what to do.
I shake my head, feeling renegade water droplets trickle down from my hair to my eyes. Doctor Katie Simmons. What a fucking babe. It doesn’t matter that she’s hot as hell. And it doesn’t matter that I’ve already had to jerk off to the memory of fucking her Wednesday night. I can tell what kind of woman she is, even if she did let her guard down outside of Mario’s. But still, there’s something different about this woman … something that sets her apart …
She saw inside you. She saw past your walls.
I shake my head again, reaching over and blindly grabbing the soap.
No, she didn’t. She didn’t say anything that really meant anything. I’ve gone over our conversation again and again, and she only asked questions that anybody could ask. She didn’t do anything special at all.
So then why did you open up? Why, for even that one second, did you feel yourself open up to her?
Just shut up, okay? I begin lathering myself up, knowing that if I stay in here too long the water’s going to turn cold.
And as if granting my wish, I feel the temperature slowly but steadily begin to drop. I hurriedly lather up, pausing for a second when I reach my cock and finding it hard as a rock.
Huh. Well shit.
I would love to jerk off to the thought of her right now, but Gil’s already waiting and I shouldn’t be too late in showing up. Pu
tting the soap back, I quickly rinse off and then turn the water off, stepping out.
As I grab a towel and begin drying myself off, I stare at my reflection in the mirror and shake my head.
In the end, she doesn’t know anything about me, even if she thinks she does. She has no idea what I’ve been through. She would never know.
Fully dry now, I walk out of the bathroom and into my bedroom, tossing the towel over the door to dry. I take some clothes out of my dresser and put them on. Dark colors, always dark. Sometimes duty calls when you least suspect it, and there’s no sense in trying to sneak around at night if you’re going to be wearing bright orange and green.
Slipping my shoulder holster on over my t-shirt and throwing my leather jacket on top of that, I grab my phone, keys, and wallet off the dresser and leave my apartment, heading out the front door, locking it behind me.
As I stride down the hallway I glance left and right at the cracked plaster, the burnt-out ceiling lights. I moved into this apartment a couple years back, when my old place was getting too hot for my liking. It’s shitty and run-down, no one can deny that. But nobody asks too many questions and it’s the perfect place to shake off some heat. Everybody living here hates the cops, and the cops hate them right back. So they don’t mingle. My kind of people.
I walk down the stairs and step outside, squinting against the bright afternoon sun. I walk to my car and get in, starting it up and pulling out of my space and onto the road in the direction of Gil and this new job he apparently has for me.
It’s a beautiful day, but I feel my stomach start to act up on me again as I drive. I grab the open bottle of antacid I got a few days ago and shake a few into my mouth, chewing them. Although they’re a different brand from what the bartender gave me, these ones also taste like candy. Was it so hard to get people to take antacid that they had to make them all taste like the same candy? I mean, aspirin tastes like shit but people still take those, don’t they?
I turn the corner and see Mario’s Pasta and Pizza up ahead. My stomach burns, but less so now that it has a few antacid in it. I pull into the parking lot and go around back, parking in an empty spot and turning the car off, getting out.
The lunch rush must be done because the parking lot looks practically empty. When I walk through the front doors I only see one couple sitting at a far table. The restaurant is quiet and when Sandy, standing at the front podium and doing something on the computer screen, looks up at me, she does a double take before her cheeks flush red.
I smile as I approach her. She keeps her eyes on me but drops her head, making her look like a school girl playing coy.
“Hi, Lance,” she breathes when I stop in front of her.
“Sandy,” I say. That’s strange. Why don’t I feel anything right now?
“You left the other night before we could get together.”
The memory of Katie and me fucking just outside makes my cock stir in my pants. But I pull myself back to reality.
“Sorry baby,” I say. “Something came up.”
She drops her gaze again, putting on a sexy look, and I know that she’s expecting a certain reaction.
“Don’t worry, though,” I say to her, almost needing to force the words out. “I’ve been thinking about you, and I want to see you again. Tonight.”
Sandy gasps and her eyes open again.
“Tonight?” she says.
“That’s right,” I rumble. “I can’t wait to take you again. Hold you down and fuck you until your pussy explodes.”
She takes in a shuddering breath and looks at me.
“Okay,” she breathes. “I’ll be here.”
I force myself to give her one last smile before I keep walking, leaving without saying goodbye.
What in the hell just happened? That woman is throwing herself at me! Why don’t I want to fuck her?
I can feel Sandy’s eyes on my retreating back but I don’t turn around. I reach the double doors and push through them, then walk down the hallway to the back room.
Stopping outside the metal door, I hammer with my fist three times before I hear the metal latch slide back. The door opens a crack and the barrel of a gun comes out to greet me. I merely push open the door and walk past the guard. But two steps into the room and I slow down my pace.
If this gigantic room was devoid of life back on Wednesday, then it’s practically barren right now. The only people in here are Gil, Jackson, and Willy, plus the guy at the door whose name I don’t even know.
“Lance!” shouts Gil as the guy shuts the door behind me. “Get over here!”
Gil is seated behind his desk with Willy and Jackson standing beside him. I walk over, feeling strange and exposed in such an empty room. It doesn’t help my unease that Gil doesn’t look happy at all.
“When I tell you on the phone to be here now, I don’t mean in half a fucking hour!” he shouts as I reach his desk. I keep my face calm, and in my periphery I see Willy looking nervous and Jackson looking like he’s got front-row seats to the greatest show on earth.
“I had things to do,” I tell Gil in an even voice.
“The only thing I want you to do is whatever I tell you to do!”
Whenever Gil gets like this he reminds me of an oversized baby. One who’s just been denied his third bowl of ice cream. But unlike normal babies this one won’t just throw tantrums. Instead, this one will do a few lines of coke before killing you.
“Okay,” I say, my voice calm despite the resentment that’s bubbling up inside of me. “I’m here now. So why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”
Gil breathes heavily as he stares at me for a second, but then he breaks eye contact and looks around at all three of us, taking us in.
“I have something I want you to take care of,” he tells us. Beads of sweat pepper his forehead and I wonder how many lines he’s done since this morning. Probably more than I want to know. “There’s a loose end in a recent job that I want tied up.”
“A loose end?” Jackson asks, his eyes landing right on me. “Who fucked up?”
“Nobody fucked up,” Gil says. “It’s just something I want done.”
“What is it, boss?” Willy asks. Gil looks up at him.
“The guy Lance took care of a few days ago,” he says. “He has a son. A little baby called Nathan. I want you three to take care of him too.”
Silence reverberates around the room. My mind is whirring, and Willy’s face has blanched of all color. The only person showing any sort of positive emotion is Jackson.
“What, didn’t Lance do the kid when he did the dad?” Jackson asks before looking at me and shaking his head. “Sloppy workmanship, old pal. If it were me, I would’ve made sure the whole family went out.”
“This isn’t part of the deal,” I hear myself say to Gil. “Doing the son … this isn’t part of the job.”
“I’ve been thinking about it,” Gil says. “And I’m going to be in this business for the next few decades. Haven’t you seen those ninja movies? I don’t want some pissed-off son coming after me for revenge in twenty years’ time.” He focuses on me and his pupils are huge. “You need to finish this, Lance,” he says to me. “You need to do the job that I tell you to do.”
I taste bile in my throat as I stare down at this piece of shit who calls himself my boss. I could kill him right now. Half a second and it would be over with.
But Jackson would react, and as much as I hate the guy I have to admit that he’s quick on the draw. He’d have to go too, and then the guy at the door. And what about that couple out front? They’d hear the shots for sure. Something would have to be done about them.
Inside my head, I sigh. No. Even if I managed to kill Gil and get it done in the best possible way, who would I work for after this? It’s like Willy said: working for Gil sucks but at least we have some of our freedoms. The other bosses out there are just as bad, or worse. No, I’m not going to kill Gil right now.
Gil’s still looking at me, and despite the p
ain in my stomach and my growing hatred for this man in front of me, I force myself to nod. Gil’s face breaks out into a wide smile.
“Goooooooooood!” he says, and he suddenly turns in his seat, holding his hand up to Jackson, palm facing him. Jackson blinks, then brings his own hand up and high-fives Gil. Gil turns to Willy, doing the same, and then he turns to me.
What the fuck is with this guy? I want to pistol-whip him instead, but what can I do? I lift my hand and Gil reaches forward, slapping his palm onto mine.
“Yeah!” he says. “Whoo! You guys are the best!”
“So … this Nathan kid,” Willy says. “How do you want it done?”
Gil swings his eyes over to me.
“Lance,” he says. “You do your research. Go to their house, find out when he sleeps. It’s got to look like an accident. Like that sleeping thing that babies get or whatever. Find a way to do it and give me your info on Tuesday.”
I feel like I’m going to throw up but I nod again. I got all the research done when I took care of the dad. I already know what room Nathan sleeps in, but I’m not telling Gil that. He smiles again.
“Good! Once we have that I’ll tell you all how to keep going. And until then,” he looks around at us, “keep yourselves fresh! Okay! That’s it, we’re done!”
I blink and straighten up, turning and walking with Willy over to the shelf on the far wall. When we lean against it, I see Jackson still at Gil’s side as Gil empties a plastic baggie full of white powder onto his desk. Jackson’s bent low and is speaking into Gil’s ear while Gil nods.
“Jesus Christ,” Willy says in a low voice. He’s looking down, shaking his head. “Lance-”
“Shh,” I say to him, glancing around. Without anybody playing pool or having any other conversation, our voices can carry far in this empty room. “Wanna get a drink?”
Willy gives me a sad look.
“Normally I’d say it’s too early. But yes. I do want to get a drink.”
We push off from the wall and head towards the door, but as we do Gil snorts a long line and then he raises his head, and his eyes lock onto mine and he watches me as Willy and I move. He stares for a long moment, and then: