Page 10 of Wicked Lies Grow Wildflowers
Leo needs to remain my main focus right now, though. Not Maeren and the fictional life I could give her. I still have two weeks left to my deadline but it’s better to get him taken care of sooner rather than later. Once he’s over with I can clear up some more time for more important endeavors—like my infatuation with Maeren—-without distraction. I’ve spent the last two weeks trying to stop her from consuming me and now she’s front and center in my mind. The funny part is that I find myself struggling to give a shit. This might be the change of pace I need, a fun new game to play. She can be just another woman for me to fuck and leave, but at least she’s entertaining. Playing hard to get isn’t something women ever do with me and I’m up for the challenge. I can get a quick taste of her and be done with this madness.
I fire up my burner laptop and load my cross tracing software. I created the software myself and I’m damn proud of it. The program allows me to enter someone’s name and search all mentions on the web automatically. Efficiency is key in this line of work. After the search is compiled, I’m able to track Leo’s movements and discover he’s been seen with people who are pretty public with their whereabouts. Not all members of organized crime are smart and it’s that sloppiness that gets them killed by men like me.
I believe I know where Leo will be tomorrow night and luckily for me, it’s in town. My job just got easier. I formulate myplan, texting Mark to have the clean up crew ready within the next twenty-four hours. I can clean a scene and dispose of a body just fine, but I prefer not to dirty my shoes unless I have to. Plus, I was hired to do the hit, not the grunt work—that costs extra.
Mark’s name pops up on my phone, replying with a simple10-4,and I head to my weapons arsenal in the garage. I key in the code on my safe and select my Staccato XC, my preferred handgun of choice. It’s discreet and fires like butter. I have several firearms, knives, even a crossbow, but a handgun gets the job done the fastest, easiest, and cleanest. I make sure to always have a switchblade on me just in case I have to do a little hand to hand; you never know if you’re going to be caught off guard, so an extra layer of defense is important.
Dressed in a sweatshirt,I pull the hood up to obscure my face and slide a signal jammer in my pocket. My Staccato sits in the holster at my waist and the suppressor in my sweatshirt. I double check everything one last time before walking out to my car and texting Mark to let him know I’m on my way over to the location. I was able to confirm Leo’s current whereabouts through some mutual connections and he’s at a seedy strip club called Coyote’s, known to recruit barely legal girls—go figure. Fucking disgusting if you ask me.
The joint is known for its drugs, and typically, the dancers are so strung out they can’t see straight. The poor girls are there because they’re addicted to the high after being preyed upon by men who would rape children if they could get away with it. There really isn’t any choice in the matter. Promise a young troubled girl who’s out of options steady work, get her to trustyou, offer her a good time, and before you know it, you’ve gotten her completely dependent on you. That’s exactly how these fuckers operate.
How Coyote’s remains open is beyond me—it should clearly be shut down, but the city has bigger problems to worry about, I guess. I’m sure some law enforcement officers are in their pockets as well, so, there’s that. Typical filth. The same people that are sworn to serve and protect are out cheating on their wives and fucking girls the same age as their daughters. The hypocrisy leaves a sour taste on my tongue. Like I said, fucking filth.
I park my car a few blocks away at a motel that doesn’t have any security cameras and make my way to Coyote’s, entering through the back door because bouncers don’t bother with it, especially not on weeknights. The second I step inside, I’m immediately assaulted by the loud music and the smell of stale sex. My nose crinkles in disgust. I can’t wait to be in and out of here.
I meander my way through the crowd of sleazy men entranced by the two girls dancing on stage with their tits out. Their bodies are emaciated from the drug use, whether it be nose candy or some other concoction. I look away, further disgusted by the depravity of this place. Despite how fucked up I am, even I have lines drawn in shit I’ll participate in or even allow.
The VIP lounge is located upstairs, blocked off by a velvet rope and a bouncer; as if anyone of true importance can be found in this shithole. No, only low level crime ring leaders frequent this place. Anyone of real importance hits the elite clubs in the bigger cities. I flash the bouncer a wad of cash and pull out several hundreds. I hand them over as he opens up the rope and I ascend the stairs, keeping my head down.
Finding an unoccupied table I slide into a seat and take a careful look around. A few of the dozen tables are full of patrons,and I take care to not stare too long in any one spot. My eyes snag on Leo, relaxing in a booth with lines of blow and a girl clad in only a thong giving him a lap dance. He’s wearing all black with his greasy dark hair slicked back, a scraggly mustache adorning his face. He looks like a bad mafia boss. Although, mafia is too generous a word for his organization, as he runs a local rag tag gang trying to take over Mark’s reign on the drug market. Highly unlikely, but Mark isn’t one to take chances. Therefore, even the smallest threat needs eliminated.
I eye two men standing on either side of the booth, and assume they are his security detail. Trying not to roll my eyes at his self imposed importance, I think over what to do about them. I try not to kill anyone that isn’t my direct hit because it can be too messy, and I don’t want these fuckers to become a problem and add to my body count.
My attention snags when Leo roughly grabs the dancer's hair, pulling her in close to whisper something in her ear, a look of alarm flashing over her sallow face. I try to hide my snarl, but just barely manage it. One thing I don’t tolerate is the manhandling of women, unless they ask for it, and preferably begging on their knees. There’s a time and a place for that.
A waitress saunters up to my table and leans over into my space, making sure her tits are as close to my face as they can be, but I don’t bother to give her a glance.
“What can I get you, sugar?” She asks, her sickeningly sweet perfume permeating the air.
“Whisky, neat. Whatever top shelf shit you have.” I toss a fifty on the table and she shoves it into the waistband of her miniskirt before sauntering away.
I normally don’t drink on the job, but I’m going to need it to get through this night. When the waitress returns I offer her a nod and she blessedly takes the hint that I’m not interested in whatever she wants to offer. I spend the next hour watching Leoplay with his dancer and wishing time would speed up so this fucker will go home already. Fuck Mark for putting me through this shit.
At eleven Leo makes a move to stand and his guards lurch into motion, ready to follow him, but he holds a hands up and tells them to stay. He smacks the stripper's ass. “Don’t go anywhere sweetie, I’m not done with you yet,” he croons with a wink as she steps aside so he can exit the booth.
“I need a smoke, I’ll be back in shortly.” His guards nod in response and post back up as Leo descends the stairs. The stupid fuck is making this easier than I could have anticipated. I spent the last hour thinking over all the ways I could disarm and kill three people, and now I only have to worry about one. I toss back the rest of my drink. Carefully sliding the jammer out of my pocket, I activate it. Hopefully no one here needs to make a call in the next ten minutes. I wait a few minutes more before getting up and leaving, exiting through the backdoor. I glance down the alley towards the parking lot and catch Leo with a cigarette precariously balancing between his lips as he talks to someone on the phone.
Pulling out my suppressor and Staccato, I assemble them before quietly prowling after him. He’s too lost in conversation to realize there’s a predator after him, and in one quick movement I smack him in the side of the head with the butt of my gun, and watch as he crumples to the ground.
Clutching his bleeding scalp he screams, “What the fuck?!” Before his eyes flick up to mine and he takes in what’s happening. “I’ll kill you, you fucking bastard!”
Luckily for me, no one inside is going to hear his pitiful screams over the blasting music. I put Leo in a chokehold and drag his flailing body out of sight, behind the abandoned office building that shares the alley with Coyotes.
Leo’s useless threats continue to pour out of him and really grate on my fucking nerves. I punch him in the mouth to shut him up, busting out several of his teeth and causing blood to spew down his chin. He won’t be needing them now anyways. His wails are eaten by the thumping bass from the club as he tries to desperately scramble away. My foot plants on his abdomen and I apply firm pressure to hold him in place, noting how weak he is despite his size. I use my other foot to smash the wrist of the left arm he has lying on the ground with a firm stomp as he lets out a blood curdling sob. So pathetic for a man who was previously so cocky and prideful.
He’s smaller than me, but not a small man by any means, just too weak to know how to properly fight back. Not surprising really—he’s never had to fend for himself. He’s always dealt with money or had his subordinates carry out his dirty work. Well, now Leo’s sins have cumulated into this moment right here, and God, does it feel good to hold his life in my hands.
I stare into his black eyes now. “I’m afraid your time has come to an end, Leo. Mark has friends everywhere.” Recognition lights his eyes. “Ah—so you’re aware of how serious this little predicament is now, aren’t you?” I taunt, applying my full bodyweight to his abdomen. The sounds of his cracking ribs are a melody to my fucked up soul as his screams die down to whispers in his bloody, brutalized mouth.
The sight of my gun is lined up on his head as he exerts last ditch efforts to get away, trying to swat at me with his good wrist, but I have him pinned in place. I pull the trigger, snuffing the life out of his eyes as the high of my kill rushes through me like the sweetest euphoria. “Enjoy hell, asshole. I hope I never see you there.”
There isn’t a high in the world as good as this right here. Being on top of the food chain feels fucking fantastic and clearing the world of scum is something I’ll never tire of.
Holstering my gun, I bend down to fish out his phone and keys, making sure my jammer has properly fucked up the GPS in the cell before discarding it alongside his body. I text Mark to let him know the job is done and he dispatches the clean up crew, letting me know that he will wire the agreed upon funds to my account immediately. Easy money.
I wait for Mark’s guys to arrive so that the body isn’t left unattended, and to make sure Leo’s guards don’t come searching. I hand over Leo’s keys, knowing that they’ll need to dispose of his car too. Simple, clean, and effective. There will be no trace of his whereabouts and no way to link anyone to his disappearance. A polaroid will be taken of the corpse and delivered to his next in line. Leo’s sad excuse of a gang will get the message his dead body was meant to send—the Marino’s are untouchable—and it’ll fall apart from there. They wouldn’t dare take that to the cops, so it will be like he vanished into thin air.
My work is done and I can’t wait to get home and formulate my next moves with Maeren. She doesn’t know it, but my fun with her is only just beginning.
