CHAPTER 6
After I had shut out the lights of Duke, I had received a call. Another job in Huntington Beach when I hadn’t even been paid for the last one I did. I wasn’t sure if they were going to pay me, tho. Well, if I was in their place, I’d pay me if they weren’t willing to die. I needed money and I needed it now. My car called for changing tires and the walls of the apartment also looked kind of sad these days and let’s be honest, paint cost a few bucks. Or maybe I wanted wallpaper? Yes, that’s it. Brown with green floral pattern.
This time I managed to do my job the proper way. Although, it took a bit more focus from my side, I made it as swiftly clean as I possibly could. My victim was somehow related to the Italian mafia branch here in California and was leaving a huge mess behind him. He didn’t bother to move the bodies he killed and the organs which he sold on the black market, well, he did it with a bang. Putting a part of them up on ebay, seriously? He had to be neutralized. At least it wasn’t hard to track him, which made my pay smaller. By few grand. Freaking misers. They realized the ammunition I received every week also did cost something… a very much something. Did I mention this something wasn’t included in my pay check… not that I had one. I had never personally met the one’s who recruited me and I wasn’t planning on it. Kept me safer. They only knew I was a female and my bank account number. If it would depend on me, I would’ve gone just with the bank account number.
The guy, who’s name I didn’t know and never wanted to know - was surfing. Odd hobbies for a black market holder. I had the stereotype of them having cheap skanks by their side and doing stuff that... well... perverts did, but no, he was surfing. It was somehow advantageous to me. A small radio bomb in the size of a nut had been attached to his board when I ran into him earlier. Just before he got in to the water. 3,2,1. Kaboom. Not quite, there was no kaboom, only the splits of the water and blood. I think I saw his leg flying in the air. I looked at the remote, small disbelief crossing my face. Powerful little thing. Had to use explosives more often, didn’t know they could be so much fun.
After making sure nobody took any notice of my 'tanning' time which I spent in a leather jacket and black jeans (no, I was not suspicious. Like… at all) I headed to Ralphs. The best place to buy grocery and... argh, I couldn’t believe I was about to do it, but yes, even a beer for Duke. I think I had punched him a little too hard. No, I was not apologizing, I never apologized, I just... wanted to …ease his pain.
Yes. Even I couldn’t believe myself.
There’s always time to turn back. No, don’t do it! Don’t enter. Now you done it. There’s still chance. Now the guy will think you care, great.
"Oh shut up," I hissed to myself. I could get quite obnoxious from time to time. People around me sent me raised eyebrows and doubtful stares, "What?" My look was enough to make them get back to their stuff. I picked a bottle. Bud... light? But then again this Budweiser thing had a more attractive etiquette. I remembered my mom saying- "Don’t judge a man by his shoes..." Or was it- shoes should be judged after a man? Oh, who cared, we all knew I was going to take the Bud Light either way. I guess it couldn’t be bad enough to poison him if they were actually selling it. Was worth a try, I was willing to make this experiment, maybe get to know new killing techniques.
This was actually one of those days when I didn’t get into any of the traffic jams and drove home rather safely. I had parked my car beside Duke’s just like I always did.
I stepped out of the car, feeling the warm afternoon sun heating up the leather clothing piece I had on me. I took the bags out of the car, this time leaving my briefcase in the trunk. What could possibly happen to it?
I unlocked the door just to see Duke’s lifeless body lying on the floor.
My eyes slid to my wristwatch and I got confused. It’s been…two hours.
"Oh come on..." I cried in discontent. The hit hadn’t been that strong. I stepped over Duke, placing the bags on the counter and going back right after.
"Somebody knocked him good..." I turned my head to see Trent’s grinning face as he stopped with his hand on the white door frame. "What happened?"
"He ran into my fist." I bent down, jerking his shoulder lightly. No response. It couldn’t be I had killed him, no... Although I hadn’t checked his pulse before I left the house, he couldn’t be dead, could he? It was worth a try checking it now. I pressed two fingers to his neck, at the exact place where the carotid artery was, knowing not to press too hard if he actually was alive. And he was. I could feel the pulse.
"Then he should be up soon enough..." Trent was laughing. His friend was lying on the floor and he laughed. Did... people do that?
"He’s been down for," I raised the sleeve of my jacket and looked in the wristwatch, "I would say two hours?" His face got serious and that dimpled smile of his vanished. He stepped over the porch and bent down on the other side of him.
"Duke... You’re drooling on the floor," My voice gave absolutely no result. I thought of firing my gun next to his ear, what would he say then? Trent kept poking his side. Yeah, like poking would do something. So smart.
"Hey, you got a beer?" I looked at him with great suspicion written all over my face, "trust me..." What the hell did he need beer for, it’s not like an unconscious person could finish a beer. Hello? Drinking 101?
I stood up and went for the counter, picking out one of the Bud Lights I bought earlier. I gave the brownish glass bottle to Trent waiting for his magic. He shoved his hand deep in his khaki short pocket, taking out a lighter. Tssccc. He had opened the bottle. Well I’ll be damned, Duke twitched.
"Duke, you okay man?" Trent patted his broad shoulder as he got up with loud groans. "Works like a charm." He took a mouthful of the alcoholic beverage, raising his eyes to look at my face. He looked satisfied with himself. Was I supposed to be impressed, ‘cause I was not going to admit it, even tho I was.
"What the hell happened?" His voice was raspy and he seemed as confused as all hell.
"Knockout happened," Trent laughed as Duke sat up and leaned against the wall. He massaged his temple trying to fight the pain away. I had a slight idea of what he was going through, I had been knocked out, only once though, and it was couple of years ago, but I could say the feeling was not one of the best people could get.
"You..." Duke’s look narrowed on me. I raised my eyebrows and widened my eyes, playing the innocent person I really wasn’t, "You could’ve killed me..."
"Dude, let’s not over exaggerate," Trent sipped on the beer.
"What makes you think I didn’t go for it?" I twitched my shoulders, "You know, things not always go as planned."
"Why the hell are you standing up for her, you see me on the floor don’t you? And… why the hell are you even here?" Was it just me or Duke was never satisfied with… anything?
"I still believe you ran into the door or something, for fuck sake, look at her and look at you," He pointed with the beer from me to Duke.
"Hey..." Unpleased noise came out my mouth, "Let’s not start with insults." Now I was pissed, what was that supposed to mean? Look at her. I looked, I saw an old converse which used to be red, now they were partly red with white stains from the bleach, I saw jeans which were starting to wear out on the knees, and I saw my jacket covering the rest of me, but where was the problem? That I didn’t see.
"I came to pick you for rehearsal, but I guess you’re too fucked to play, so I’ll be taking the beer and going. Goodbye." He bent in a curtsy before heading to his escalade.
"He does now drinking and driving is against the law, right?" Duke looked at me like he was just seconds away from killing me, which would be a bad idea, cause… you know, I would kill him a lot faster if the need arose.
I turned on my heel and went for my beloved couch. I sat down, taking the pillow which was lying on the very end of it and placed it on my lap. I reached for the remote and turned on the tv. X-factor was on.
"You really wanted to kill me?" Hardly in the sound of a whisper. And again the worn out question- was he aware that killing was against the law? Right now I was in his little world where his apartment mate was just an unstable girl who happened to live only from veggies and dairy products, not a homicidal closet poet from Huntington Beach. Okay, not the poet, but I wanted to be. No, not really.
"I want and I do are two completely different things. If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead." Right now I hated myself, I was not supposed to get touchy with the guy, I was supposed to play the mentally troubled young woman who didn’t come out of her room if not absolutely necessary not the ‘I will spear your life, oh great mortal’ girl. What’s next, we sing 'coombaya' at some scout fire?