“You’re a sick prick.” I shake my head at him cracking my knuckles out.
“What put him in debt?”
“Gambling. And the drugs. They came after though it was the gambling that did him in. Really fucked him up. The scum found him, hit him up and here we are.”
Running my hand through my hair, I tie it back from my face. My smoke is burning between my lips, my eyes trained on the door.
“How long since he last paid?”
“Couple months. You know I’ve been pretty nice to the guy. I even serviced his wife for him and continue to do so. She loves the bad boy cock a lot better for her than the fired football coach with addiction problems and no health insurance. But as I said to the old man, I’m way past nice now.”
“I don’t know how you do it, brother. All these vices and you’re still in control.” He laughs out at me hitting my shoulder.
“It wears off, ya know that feeling. It goes away, hence all the other bitches and games I play. Gotta get him hard somehow.” His hand grabs his cock, and he jiggles it up and down inside his jeans. I don’t even know what the fuck to say. Just then the delivery van pulls up, thank fuck.
“What’s the plan?”
“You play mister nice guy. If he doesn’t play along, we hurt him until he does.”
“Me play mister nice guy? Did you forget who you brought?” I question him.
“No, I didn’t but I wanna be the bad guy today, Riddler. You always get the fun.”
“Fine.” I opened the door and stepped out.
“He’s in room 566.”
“Of course. They’re always on the second floor.” I hated the second floor. Getting in and out fast was harder and shit always went west whenever I had Jimmy with me. This fucker is psycho and gets the fuck off on this shit more than I do. Difference is I do mine quietly in the dark, unheard, unseen. Painting portraits with blood, where Jimmy is loud, crazy and makes a mess with blood. The more splatter the better; he likes to leave looking like a goddamn Viking after a thousand-man battle.
The delivery man dropped the flowers to the dick bag who opened the door. He looked like he had a fresh beating by the way his face was bleeding and puffing.
“That you?” Jimmy shrugged his shoulders.
“Na, mine was last week. Must owe some other people too.”
We climbed the rusted metal stairs and walked down to the room second to the end.
Jimmy dropped his smoke, stubbing it out as he knocked loudly. I flicked my smoke over the rail, stepped up and knocked loudly.
It was around two in the afternoon, so the place wasn’t too busy.
Nothing. Jimmy knocked again louder this time. Still nothing. No sign of life or movement. We know he’s in there we just seen him get the delivery.
Laughing to myself as Jimmy yells out.
“Open the fucking door, asshole.”
“We’ll break it down if we have to, but I suspect management won’t like that shit.” I leaned up against the railing, arms crossed, waiting. They always made us fucking wait. Checking my watch, I didn’t have time for this. I hated leaving Layla for long. I didn’t know when he would figure it out and come for her. Ian’s threats kept coming, and they were starting to fuck with my head. I know he wouldn’t be able to take her or kill her, he didn’t have the balls for it. But Damon, he sure as fuck did. Putting Anton on her though helps ease the sick feeling.
Jimmy knocked again. “Last warning. You make me break this door down and this is going to turn from a friendly chat to me blowing ya fucking head off.”
Still nothing. Fuck this, I stepped forward and kicked the heel of my boot into the middle of the door, kicking it clean open. I place my foot back down and I look at my best friend.
“After you,” I say ushering my hand toward the door for him to step inside.
“Fuck, you’re a dick,” he laughs out stepping past me and into the dimly lit piss pit that was this guy’s hideaway.
The guy looked pretty normal actually, minus the glazed-over druggy look. Definitely heroin and his face screamed one heck of a beating but that didn’t concern me. Getting what’s owed, either in cash or his head or both would be a win too. Getting back to Layla was all I gave a fuck about.
The room smelled like a fucking frat houses cum rag, it was a mess. He clearly hadn’t cleaned the place in weeks. Jimmy was right, he’s been here a long time. Fuck, I would have killed him a month ago.
Needles were prominently displayed on the dresser and empty beer cans were all over the floor. What caught my eye was the bathroom, the door was cracked, and I could see two shadows inside the shower as their image reflected in the mirror. The guy saw where I was looking. He was shaking, the hiding was fresh alright from whoever was in the bathroom.
Hitting Jimmy in the arm pointing toward the mirror, I drew my gun and pulled my tee up over the sheath holding my blade.
The guy stepped over toward the bed, his arms crossed, wearing only a pair of boxer shorts and a thin white t-shirt which was covered in blood and snot, the bouquet from the old man was on the bed. Walking over, my finger to my lips to silence him, I pick the card up opening it. “Well, well, what do we have here?” I say looking at the piss bag.
“Riddle me this. Life is a gift given to you by death. Your roses are now all dead.” I read aloud as Jimmy walks around the other side out of view of the Mirror. Crossing the room, he stands along the wall that they are on his gun pulled and ready to fire on them should they move.
“You alone or you got a lady in here?” I ask the dick. He shakes his head at me. “Is that a no to being alone or a no to the lady?” I ask him sarcastically.
He shakes his head again. “Fuck, mate, cat got ya tongue?” I bite out, this shit is old, and I’m bored.
“So, you’re not alone.” He nods this time shaking like its -2 in here not fucking 42.
“Stop,” I said. “Quit with the shaking.” I crack my neck.
“Who are you guys?” he spurts out finding his voice.
“I’m Micha. And this is Jimmy. We’re here to collect your debts. The debts you owe to my mate here and now extra for having to call me on the job.” His eyes went a little wide.
“No,” he said. “No, I can’t. I don’t have any money, man. I told them guys that.” “Well Jimmy has been patient with you, too patient if you ask me and them guys,” I say, “are dead men walking.”
With that Jimmy pulls both guys kicking the door open and shooting each man in the chest.
“It’s time to pay. Or you, my friend, are next.” I walk over and playfully slapping his cheeks.
Jimmy steps closer to the guys slumped in the shower smiling his vicious smile.
“Gallo men, brother, wired up too. Fucking fucks.” Pulling the little microphone up off the dicks chest I look at it. “Bring that here, I wanna leave a little riddle for our mutual friend and you can deal with this.”
I take the microphone as Jimmy pulls his gun out of his waistband with pleasure.