CHAPTER 9
"Please tell me you don’t know your clock…" I murmured loud enough for her to hear it. Trent noticed me and waved. There was an odd feeling rising in my gut. Act casual, I wanted to wave back, no! Elle Morrison is not friendly. Just give him one of your famous death glares. Yes, that’s it. I ignored him, hearing Ana laughing loudly. Sounded like one of her fake laughs.
"Is there something wrong?" I scratched my head nervously. Since when I was nervous? Since I found out my apartment mate was in friends with mafia. That was not good, not good at all.
"No, everything is just peachy." Where was Duke? He had to be my distraction for tonight. I scanned the place, seeing only some girls who looked underage; I wondered who did their fake ID’s. The guy who made all my fake documents was shot recently and I wasn’t even to blame for it! Life sometimes just wasn’t fair, so now I was in search for a new Don Quixote. "What business do you have with him other than receiving my ten thousand bucks?"
"Nosy much?" She turned to me, smiling widely. This would be just too interesting if Duke was caught up in this mess too, it would get even more interesting if he was one of his assassins. I shrugged my shoulders to her question. I turned my head slightly to see her holding a memory card, "Here’s the information of all of his drug deals. I deliver it and I’m free of the underground business."
"Free?" I raised my eyebrow. Why would anyone want to get rid of it? I knew Anastasia for three years. I met her when I was in Russia, working under a douche named Boris, who died in a very unexpected yet painful death. People should know to pay me in time. I had saved her pitiful life back then by shooting Boris. He had found out her little secret of not always delivering him the suitcase with it’s full content. Yes, everything rotated around money. If we wouldn’t like money, we would be working at Wallmart.
"I’m thirty two, Morrison, I want a normal life. Maybe become a doctor." That cracked me up. Of course she wanted to become a doctor! She knew her drugs, but to become a doctor? A girl could dream. "He’s standing up…" She said without even gazing over at him. Sometimes I thought she had eyes in the back of her head. Creepy. "Sorry, but I have to leave you." She placed the memory card in the back pocket of her denim skirt.
I waved her off, resting my sight on the booth where Trent had been sitting. Duke’s girl, Chris and Maddox, but no Duke. Where was he? Oh, there he was, leaving the little boy’s room with a red head, the same little boy’s room Trent had entered. So I assumed Ana was there.
I got off the bar stool, maneuvering my way through the crowd of drunk people. Duke didn’t notice me, neither did the girl who was right behind him. I looked over the place, looking for options. Either the lady’s room or … No, the bathroom will do good. My hand wrapped firmly around the tanned arm of the red head dragging her in the lady’s room, turning the lock as soon as we were in.
I turned her around, my arm around her neck, my palm shooting in front of her mouth as she opened it in a scream.
"You squeal and I break your neck. Comprende?" This mafia business had me talking like a freaking Spanish bastard. If only I knew Spanish. The girl pulled a fight with my arm, biting my finger. Instead of letting her go, I hardened my grip, making her choke. I dragged her along, checking for anyone in the booths. Good. No one was there. I pushed her off me, making her hit the sink on her way.
"Please don’t kill me… Please, please don’t kill me…" She cried. Awesome, now I had made her go in post-traumatic stress with no traumas. Well… We could always arrange them. No, Morrison, you’re not here to kill her, remember, you don’t kill innocents. But was she innocent? She had just made Duke cheat on his girl. No, Morrison, that’s not the way we work. Oh shut up, you don’t work; you just babble when I do all the dirty work. That’s called entertaining.
I really had to get rid of my inner voices. They started to get real annoying and cocky.
"Who’s the guy you walked out of here?" I placed myself on top of the marble surface next to the sink.
"You mean Duke?" She raised her green eyes. Mascara was smudged all around them. The view was pathetic. If you can’t handle your tears, don’t use mascara. I nodded. "Wait you don’t know who he is?"
"Well would I be asking if I knew?" I tipped my temple a couple of times, "try using your head from time to time."
"Then you have to hear this…" She raised her palms, being all excited.
"Yippy…" I faked my excitement with a false smile and she sniffed.
"He’s this awesome…" And with that started my ten minute torture. I couldn’t believe how often one could use ‘awesome’, ‘hot’ and ‘amazing’. It got on my nerves incredibly, but on the other hand, I found out he’s a guitarist for a rather famous band which name I forgot and he’s good with his fingers. Wasn’t he supposed to be if he was a guitarist? She told me about the whole band and it turned out Trent was their front man. She kept babbling, making me look at my wristwatch for the seventh time of her monologue. "Oh… and he likes red…"
"Okay, I got you… jeez…" I rolled my eyes. "So he’s not a killer." I whispered the last part.
"You said something?" She turned against the mirror, cleaning herself up a bit. You missed a spot, dear. Try polishing your brain, I think there’s a huge layer of dust on it.
"No, no… Nothing at all." I jumped off my cozy seat and went for the door.
"So… you want to hang out sometime?" God, this was what happened when I didn’t kill people. Without an answer, I walked out of the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I would hang out with her if she allowed me to free her from her limbs. The good old Viking fashion.
As soon as I closed the reddish door, Duke ran into me. Oh come on people, I wasn’t invisible. Without even apology he went in the little boy’s room, leaving me with me, my insanity and a heavy sigh. Only a second passed before the door opened, yet again. I looked over my shoulder with an arched eyebrow. He looked like he’d seen a ghost. "You okay?"
His answer to my question was taking me by my hand and pulling inside the bathroom. "What?" His hands dropped to my hips as he pushed me further.
"Okay stop," I turned in his arms, just inches apart our faces. He was pale and looked terrified. He turned me around once again, not saying a word. Only then I saw a reddish puddle forming under the door of one of the booths. My dark eyebrows wrinkled as I hesitantly walked closer. Please say it isn’t so… I opened the door.
"Fuck!" I brushed my hand through my long hair. Ana was there, with a hole in her head. I started biting on my lip, my hand forming into a fist. She was neatly placed on the toilet bowl. My feet carried me closer, avoiding any contact with the puddle of blood. The card!
"What are you doing?" His deep voice was trembling.
"Hey, you pushed me in here…" I jerked my shoulders as my hands traveled under Ana’s lifeless body. God, she was heavy.
"I think I’m going to be sick…" He ran into the next booth, emptying himself of his stomach content. At least he didn’t leave his DNA on the floor next to the blood. I searched her pockets. The memory card was gone. Dammit! That was the only way for me to get my money back. I rubbed my temple, thinking of other ways how to get the cash.
I walked out of the bloody booth and looked over Brian’s crooked body. He was slowly boosting himself up, wiping his mouth with the top of his palm. I was too deep in my thought to realize he was already standing in front of me, his browns full of suspicion and doubt.
The clicking sound of door knob being pulled down made me jerk my head to see a guy entering the bathroom. No. Not now. Anastasia was laying there, dead. I wasn’t allowed to be seen next to a dead body, neither was Duke. He was my alibi and if he got caught up with the police, everything would be ruined. When you get dirty you can never get clean, as far as it was involved with the crime sphere.
My hands lied on the sides of Duke’s waist, turning him forcefully around and pushing against the wall, right in front of the door. I was so going to regret this. My lips crashed against his, tasting some sort of alcohol and stomach juice on his lips. No tongue, please, no tongue. It took a lot to make me sick to my stomach and vomit was truly my weakness. Tattooed arms snaked around my waist as I tugged on his shaggy black hair. Get away from the lips, remember those erotic movies, what did people do? I made my lips travel down his neck. He let out a moan, pulling me closer to his hard body.
"Oh… Sorry…" The intruder apologized, closing the door with a thud. I took a good distance from his neck, but he clearly didn’t. He placed warm kisses on my collar bone, his fingers sliding under my shirt. Okay, that was enough. I pushed myself away, wiping the taste of vomit and alcohol from my lips. Never again.
"What the fuck?" He tried to catch his breath while staring at me confused.
"It’d be best for you to leave." I boosted myself against the sink, trying to deal with a dead body, no memory card and now… him.
"Morrison… You are truly something." He hit the door with his fist before exiting.
"No, Brian, you are." And that wasn’t a compliment.