“So…just leave the stuff for you?”
“Yeah, you can leave it, it all has to be destroyed anyway; I’m good at that shit,” he added as the plastic crinkled once again.
“Can I ask what exactly happens to these people?”
“You don’t wanna know. Besides if I told you, I’d have to kill you. Now…be a good little assassin and get the fuck out of here,” he stated with gruff amusement.
“Later, D,” Joe stated as he backed away cautiously, almost expecting another bullet. One could never be too careful.
“See ya, P.” More crinkling, more grunting.
*****
Week Two of no Jane.
He lay in bed half the night, checking his phone, checking the laptop propped up beside his bed. Sometimes he slipped on a set of headphones to hear her soft murmuring while she slept. The occasional mention of food mixed in with a little moaning usually caused a certain appendage to spring to life. It wasn’t her. It was just a really long time since he had sex; that was it. The last day they were together – that was a mistake. He lost his head over a pretty face and a smoking body. It was just a fleeting thing. It wasn’t even worth thinking about.
“I’mmma bad kisserrrr…” His eyes flew open. Did she just mumble that?
No she wasn’t. She was quite exceptional, actually.
Not that he cared, because he didn’t.
Not at all.
Nope…
Maybe he should start taking his meds again. She was screwing with his brain. Last night, he almost botched the hit because of her. His cell phone pinged right at the moment his mark came into the sight of his high powered rifle, causing his eyes to divert for a split second. That was a first. Instead of a good clean shot, he had to take two. Totally unacceptable. D was probably pissed at him. The clean-up couldn’t have been easy…
*****
Week two and no Joe.
Other than the occasional update on his mom, and a few snarky comments back and forth via text, he still hadn’t surfaced. Had she expected him to? She received her first paycheck and seriously considered texting him and asking him to dinner to celebrate, but that wasn’t what he wanted. If he wanted to see her, she was here; he knew where to find her, he just…didn’t want to.
In one week, she had upped her office count to 10 from the previous 7. Her boss seemed more than satisfied with her performance, and, if she continued like she was, she would be working 6 days a week, eight hours a day. He told her that last night.
Nights were occupied, leaving the day open and somewhat boring. Except for the fact that she now had a TV and cable all thanks to the guy who was so thoughtful but unfortunately, invisible. It didn’t make any sense. She’d give up the TV and the bed, and the clothes, and the food…if he would just…show up. But he didn’t.
She was a bad kisser. That was it. She was so bad; he took off as soon as she laid one on him. There was no other explanation. He couldn’t get away fast enough.
Maybe I should practice. How do you practice that? Maybe I should make out with my arm? Why are you even thinking about this? You are a total weirdo…
She lay in bed, her eyes following the yellow-brownish pattern staining the ceiling panels from a long ago leak. This place was a serious dump. Five more paychecks and she would have enough for a security deposit for an apartment in a somewhat better neighborhood. Unless of course; she paid Joe back. The money he stashed in her purse was now stuffed in a drawer under her clothes. She could use it, but it but it would just make paying him back even more difficult. But then again, you couldn’t pay someone back unless you knew where they were. And since he seemed so insistent about not revealing his whereabouts…
Or she could just use the money she stashed in the basement under the dryer…
Holy crap…
Hopefully it was still there.
*****
Wherever she was going, she was running.
He watched the small dot move on his screen as she moved throughout the apartment building. His eyes immediately began scanning the back lot, the alley between her building and the one next door. No one had come in; he knew that, was she being chased? One hand reached for the gun in his inside coat pocket, the other on the door of the non-descript, weathered sedan he was sitting inside.
Alternating between watching the screen and watching the building, he saw her. She ran from the front of the building, down the alley and into the back door, causing him to crouch down in the seat. She looked…well, cute, with her hair in a ponytail and tight black pants with one of the workout shirts he bought her. She must look more than cute…based on the fact that his body was reacting pretty much the same way it did whenever he thought about her, or at least the last day they were together.
It doesn’t mean anything. You’re just horny. Get over it. Mind over matter, jackass.
She resurfaced a minute later, clutching an overstuffed envelope. Her head swiveled from side to side quickly before she ran toward the front of the building, disappearing around the corner.
What was she doing?
*****
Her palms were actually sweating. Why on earth she should be so nervous, she had no idea. Two knocks later and she stepped back, switching her feet anxiously. Maybe she wasn’t home? Of course she was home. Steve never let her leave the apartment other than allowing her to go and get groceries for his drunken ass - at least from what Jane witnessed. She wasn’t allowed to have a job, wasn’t allowed any source of income, other than what Steve provided. All she wanted was to leave, and yet she actually felt guilty about leaving him. On the very rare occasions when she actually spoke to Brenda Patterson, her vision would tunnel almost immediately and a feeling of absolute helplessness mixed with guilt and fear would overtake her. Of course, she spouted this information to Brenda, the information apparently not well-received. Of course, when Brenda Patterson would come calling; it was usually to demand the rent or to make threats of eviction. The last thing she expected was to be psychoanalyzed, Jane was sure.
One thousand dollars.
She thought she needed one thousand dollars to get her own place, get away from him once and for all. But she had absolutely no prospects. She was trying to shave a bit from each grocery run, but he had taken to checking the receipts. Her situation was completely hopeless, as far as Jane could surmise from the few times she read her.
With the money she ‘borrowed’ from Steve and a few extra bills thrown in from the ample stash that Joe provided, she stood outside of Brenda Patterson’s door, waiting anxiously for it to open.
Another knock and she stepped back. What if Steve answered? He wouldn’t answer. He should be at work. Of course she didn’t hear him leave this morning. Then again, with her new comfy bed, she was sleeping better and later. And then of course, there were the dreams. Dreams about having crazy, hot sex with Joe...
Creaking from the other side of the door sounded on the floorboards, causing her apprehension to rise.
The deadbolt clicked and the door opened to reveal Brenda Patterson in her housecoat, her graying, frazzled hair in rollers on either side of her face. Her bruised face. Dammit.
Maybe I’ll beat his ass tonight just for the hell of it.
Of course, she had tried to intervene once, stating she would call the cops but the offer was met with threats and adamant denial from Brenda. Staring at the woman before her, she averted her eyes to the yellowing bruise on her cheek and kept her focus there. She had something to say and blurting out Brenda’s inner thoughts was not on the agenda.
“Yes?”
“Um. Hi,” Jane finally stated with an awkward smile.
“If this is about your rent, your boyfriend paid it for a year,” Brenda stated blandly. Not her usual sneering tone, this one was actually somewhat…nice? Coming from Brenda, at least…
My boyfriend? A whole year? How the hell will I ever repay THAT? Jane thought before clearing her throat and trying to concentrate on the conversation. She’d think abo
ut the rent later.
“Um. No, I…it’s not about the rent. It’s about…you.”
“Me? What about me? And why am I any concern of yours? You just -”
Jane interrupted what was going to escalate into something unpleasant, she was sure. “Would you just…you know…just…Oh, fuck it! Shut up for a second! I want to give you this money right here, see?” She lifted the envelope and shoved it straight at Brenda. “You need a thousand bucks to get out of here. I’m giving you a thousand bucks. So…take it.”
Brenda’s squinty eyes widened immediately at the sight.
“Wha…what is that?”
“It’s a thousand bucks, here.” She jabbed the envelope toward her again. Brenda still didn’t make a move to accept it.
“Why?” she whispered; her eyes still firmly attached to the bundle in front of her.
“Because your husband is a douchebag and you need to get the hell out of here. That’s why.”
“Have you seen him?” she whispered, her eyes finally traveling from the money to Jane.
“What?”
“Steve. Have you seen him?”
“Ahhh…no?”
“He hasn’t come home for a week now. I mean, he’s done this before, but he’s never been gone this long,” she stated quietly after scanning the hallway.
“Did you talk to the Police?”
“Shit, no. I hope that asshole’s dead,” she stated emphatically before finally grabbing the envelope.
*****
Jane:
When you said you took care
of the landlord what exactly did you mean?
Chapter 15
“’Bout time you showed up.”
“Yeah, well. I’m gonna quit. Rick doesn’t like me doing this anyway,” Mimi stated as she shrugged off her new fur coat and handed it to the bouncer.
“What am I, a fucking coat check? Put it in your dressing room,” he stated.
“Feel it. It’s like Chinchilla or something. Isn’t it gorgeous? Rick is so freaking sweet,” she practically gushed.
“Where is Rick?” he asked as another bouncer walked up.
“In the car, he had a phone call. Hi Teej,” she smiled before the newcomer folded her into a hug.
“Hey Babe. You dancin’ tonight?”
“Nah, I just wanna talk to Moll,” she stated as her eyes swept the room quickly.
“He’s in the office.”
“Thanks,” she called over her shoulder as she took a few steps into the room.
“Hey, Mimi!”
She turned quickly.
“You ever run into your crazy bitch friend?” Both bouncers spurted a laugh.
“What friend?”
“Average height, smokin’ hot, can’t dance worth a shit…”
“I have no idea -”
“What did this girl look like?” a new voice asked.
“Brunette, skinny, light brown eyes, totally hot -”
“Jane,” Rick stated softly.
“Jane Fonda! Yeah! Oh my God, it was so funny.”
“What was so funny?” Rick asked carefully.
“This chick, Mimi’s friend. So she comes in here lookin’ for Mimi and its Amateur Night, right? So she’s hot and we’re like…’get up and dance’…and she does, and holy shit! She sucked! We had to toss her out of here before the riot started. And then she fuckin’ changes the sign out front. She’s a whack bitch, but oh my god, that was funny! Her boyfriend was like, ‘what the fuck’? Like he missed the whole damn thing.”
“What boyfriend?”
“Dude she was with.”
“What did he look like?”
“Not real tall, maybe a little under six feet, average build, dark hair, five o’clock shadow. Good lookin’ guy I guess, but I ain’t gay, so whatever.”
“Did you catch his name?”
“Nah. We told him never to bring her ass back here, though.”
“I have no idea who that is,” Mimi stated as she looked from one bouncer to the other before focusing on Rick. She gave a shrug before turning and wandering to the far end of the large room.
“I do,” Rick stated under his breath.
*****
“We have a problem.”
“What?”
“This girl, used to work for me. Dumb as shit, totally clueless. She’s been looking for me. I thought she just wanted paid for her last delivery, but I have a feeling she’s up to something entirely different,” Rick stated into the phone.
“Why?”
“Because she’s hanging out with a guy. Average build, dark hair, stubble, good looking. Sound like anyone you might know?”
The Scotch that was swirling in the glass stopped chasing itself. “What does this girl look like?” came a softly spoken question as the amber liquid settled and shown through the etched glass.
“Brunette, average height, probably one of the most beautiful women you’ll ever see, but crazy as shit.”
“Name?”
“Jane Hamilton.”
Adrenalin surged as silence ensued.
“I thought he was done with that. I thought he gave up,” Rick stated.
“He obviously hasn’t.” Oh why couldn’t he just give this up?
“I’ll waste ‘em both,” Rick replied forcefully.
Eyes widened quickly as the Scotch was placed on the table and the phone was gripped tightly.
“No. You don’t touch them. I’ll take care of them.”
“When?”
“I’m not sure. I…have to think about this.”
“Think quick. She’s been all over asking about me. I’m not going to jail,” Rick added before catching himself. That sounded awful familiar.
“You’re fine. Keep a low profile; stay hidden and stop taking your girl out clubbing. I’ll let you know when it’s done.”
“How soon?”
“Patience. This has to be done right. Otherwise, it’ll look awfully suspicious. You say this girl is crazy?”
“Totally.”
“See? That’s perfect. Because he’s crazy too.”
*****
Week Three and no Jane.
She was at work, safely tucked away inside a rather large office building in Warren. He had driven by earlier to watch her leave her vehicle and jog up the steps. When he was satisfied she wasn’t being followed, he forced himself to leave and return home, where he could keep tabs on her. Every pair of shoes he bought her had a tiny chip embedded in the insole allowing him to track her wherever she went – as long as she was wearing shoes, of course. Hopefully she wouldn’t find the need to buy any. And then of course, her phone was linked to his, giving up her position as well as allowing him to see the screens she used. The tiny cameras in the hallway and the two in her apartment were checked periodically just in case she had a visitor – either while she was there, but especially when she wasn’t.
What if it didn’t pan out? Rick’s phone conversation certainly seemed final. He made it clear he never wanted to see her again.
That wasn’t the plan. He was supposed to want to see her again. How long would he have to monitor her whereabouts before he stopped? And what then? The prospect of never seeing her again was unpalatable for some reason.
But then again, he was never supposed to see her again. That was wasn’t the original plan, although she didn’t turn out to be the woman he thought she was. She was…a nice surprise, actually. A really inconvenient one, but a surprise nonetheless.
He folded his arms behind his head and blew out a loud breath in the otherwise silent room. Don’t think about her. Think about your future instead.
Mom seemed to be responding rather well to the transplant, or at least her vitals improved somewhat. She still wasn’t out of the woods yet and it was a day to day thing, but as soon as she was ready – he would take her and Betty and they could live out the rest of their lives somewhere pleasant – away from all the heartache and bad memories. So what if he didn’t find Rick? At leas
t his mom knew there wasn’t another woman. But…she still thought he did it. She still thought, just like everyone else did, that Marcus Peters was a dishonest cop that killed himself instead of facing the charges. It just wasn’t right. But this was so hard. It had consumed him for so long and yet, here he was; no closer to finding this asshole than he was two months ago.
Maybe it was time to give it up and just…go away. Away from…Jane. If he moved to Hawaii, he would definitely never see Jane again.
What a terrible thought.
No, it’s not. His eyes wandered to the set of pajamas he found in his duffle bag days after he dropped her off. Don’t do it. They sat, neatly folded on a chair in the corner of his room, beckoning him, and up until this point, he resisted the urge. He would put them in her apartment when she wasn’t home, or …maybe he should throw them in the trash; they were after all, just pajamas…
Or maybe…
*****
A soft ping caused his eyes to shift to the laptop screen on his nightstand. Something moved in her apartment. She was home. He had followed her earlier, watching from a distance as she walked quickly from her car to the front of her building. She needed to move. His hand had gripped the door latch earlier as he watched her, thoroughly expecting some creep to jump out of the shadows and grab her. Of course, she seemed more than able to defend herself, but one just never knew…
His body relaxed when he realized it was just Jane walking toward the bathroom. He tightened his grip on the fuzzy pajamas he was holding in his arms and turned his whole body to the side to watch the screen. A small smile formed on his mouth as he watched her walk back to the bed and lay back down a few moments later, her hair spilling everywhere, just like it did when he would climb into bed next to her sleeping body. His body was aching for her and instead of talking himself out of whatever reaction he was having, he let it overtake him for once and it was disturbing. This wasn’t supposed to happen. What is that? What is that feeling?
He sat up quickly and went in search of a paper and pen.
This Guy Kills Me Page 34