Mind Games - A Bad Boy Romance With A Twist

by Gabi Moore

  We exchanged looks.

  The shipment was most likely still inside. But then, they were probably still on site too. These ass-clowns weren’t exactly known in the industry for their devotion to squeaky clean ethics. We had worked with them only once before, and, from what I can gather, they were a bunch of slime balls who were always looking for a juicy corner to cut. Little Joey wanted to open up new lines, but from what I could see, he was the only one who thought it was a good idea.

  We sat in silence together, in the darkness, listening to one another breathe.

  “Our job is to quickly find the threat, neutralize it, and make sure we have the shipment. We might even have to transport it back ourselves,” she whispered, her eyes fixed on the huge corrugated door that led into the main body of the building.

  I had heard rumors of how ruthless Evie could be, even a little crazy, but I had yet to see any proof for myself. It was all well and good to prance around in leather and pink lipstick, but I wasn’t sure how all of this would play out on the ground, where it counted.

  When you have loads as big as ours coming in and out of this city, there are bound to be small fish nibbling around, trying to get a bite. And it was our job to make sure those little fish never got to be big fish. With a bit of luck, this would be over in ten minutes and I could get out of here.

  I could hear my heart beating.

  Crack.

  I flinched as the sound of gunfire rang out. We sprang out of the car, slammed the doors and raced inside, weapons drawn. I was impressed that that tiny hundred-pound frame of hers easily unbolted and threw open the solid iron door. I make my living killing people. I’m good at what I do. But I had never seen anyone – a woman or otherwise – storm into a situation with that much clarity and focus.

  In a split second she had singled out a shifty looking asshole and marched over to him, gun outstretched, while she scanned the room. Her knee flew down onto his chest and he collapsed, her gun barrel following down closely on his neck as she pinned him to the ground and spun around to survey the rest of the interior.

  I cocked the trigger and aimed at a young guy reaching for his belt, till he put his hands up in the air and gawped at Evie, eyes wide. “Don’t you fucking dare,” I hissed at the young guy, and he obediently lifted his hands higher and away from his weapon.

  There was a body collapsed on the floor, a growing puddle of black liquid spreading out from its center, and the neck twisted at some impossible angle. I recognized our two guys standing off to the side, in front of a dusty blue container with no markings, relief plastered all over their faces.

  For the briefest moment, the air whined with silence as the echoes of shouting and gunfire reverberated and disappeared inside that cold metallic warehouse. The whole scene suddenly felt like a work of art. In the tiniest moment, in nothing bigger than that space between breaths, I looked over and saw her, standing like some kind of triumphant war goddess above her opponent, knee in his neck and her chest thrust haughtily up while she jammed her gun into his neck. For that brief moment I only saw her, and the distractingly red daub of her full lips in the near-darkness.

  I was spellbound.

  When the blow came to the back of my head, I instantly realized what an idiot I had been. My gun slipped from my hands as I staggered forward and the assailant sprung away and behind me, throwing his wiry arm around my neck and dropping his weight to yank down and choke me. Shouting rang out through the warehouse as my vision blacked out and I listed backwards, hands clutching at my throat to claw myself loose of that death grip.

  I tumbled down to the ground with him and tried through slit eyes to find my gun again. One ferocious kick to the back of my legs followed another, and waves of pain radiated out from my lower back.

  This was one feisty motherfucker.

  In my tumbled haze, I heard a panicked shout and scuffle and then a bang so loud I only heard the silence resonating after it. I squeezed my eyes shut at the boom and then felt those sinewy limbs grow heavy and flop off of me. I shrugged my attacker off and looked down to see him, curled up and clutching at a wet, red spot on his shoulder blade, a venomous look on his face.

  I leapt back, scooped up my weapon and lifted my gaze to see Evie walking towards me, arms still stiff and outstretched, pointing right at the red spot on the thug. It was almost as red as her lips were. Behind her I could make out our two guys wrestling down the other one. She took a few cautious steps towards me, peered down at her kill and then up at me. I felt fine beads of sweat prickle through my skin like needles.

  “You say they hired you as a hitman?” she said, and cocked her eyebrow high as she looked me up and down, a look of disgust playing on her lips.

  I leapt to my feet.

  Fair enough. Fucking fair enough. But she really didn’t need to waltz in here with those fuck-me boots and lipstick for Christ sake. I mean, she had pitched up to a drug deal wearing heels and tights. Who does that?

  I cracked my shoulders, shook the adrenaline off and walked past her, making sure I grazed her arm as I walked past to examine our hostage. I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of acting surprised at how she had handled herself. And I could gush over how grateful I was she saved my life some other time.

  “You guys are fucking late… what, you have to do your fucking makeup before you come out here?”

  A bald, pudgy guy with too many tattoos was holding down our trouble-maker as he writhed and winced, another one of our men wedging his boot down onto his chest.

  I had seen this guy around but didn’t know him personally. Just some mid-level hoodlum who came out here to collect and transfer, a guy who should have known better than to speak to Evie like that. I found myself watching her to see what she’d say to this blatant disrespect. She simply walked over, ignoring the bald idiot completely, and looked down at the captive with cold eyes.

  “Is there anyone else?” she said plainly.

  “Nah, just these two.”

  She bent down, tilted her head to look him over, then stood tall again. She looked around the warehouse like she was thinking about something, then crossed her hands over her chest and looked down again at him with contempt all over her face.

  “Amateurs,” she said.

  Fuck she was hot.

  “He’s on something, too,” said the bald guy. She continued to ignore him. With all the grace of a murderous ballerina, she pulled back her boot and brought it swinging forward into his ribcage, hard. He recoiled and whimpered.

  “You on something? Answer me!” she hissed.

  The guy on floor writhed and scowled up at her. He was looking worse by the second.

  It wasn’t unusual for little ambushes like this to go down when a big shipment was on the line. Low-level rivals wouldn’t be what they were without constantly trying to muscle in on our deals. But what was strange was the relative lack of skill we were looking at. Just two men? For a shipment this big? And one of those men was rolling so hard he could barely string a sentence together? I knew this shit was supposed to be pretty strong, but what drug makes people do this?

  “Yeah, so what if I am? The new stuff, you bitch, that’s what I’m on. And you’d better just let me go if you don’t want trouble…”

  Her laugh was like shards of glass tinkling onto the floor. It wasn’t that it suited her so well to play the evil villainess for a moment. It was how easily she took it all in her stride. She was almost casual about it, like slaying her enemies was just one of the many things she needed to get done that day.

  She took a few strides, thinking, looking down at our captive with something like pity.

  “He’s overdosing,” she said, calm as an ER doctor. “I don’t know how much he’s taken but you can just leave him here. He won’t last another hour.”

  “Leave him? Are you fucking kidding me?” The bald guy still had him pinned, and didn’t look as though he was prepared to loosen his grip anytime soon.

  She shot him a dark look. He w
ilted and bit his tongue, then loosened his grip on the junkie.

  I knew a little about this “Pink Kisses” shit the organization was now pedaling. I didn’t agree with any of it, but business was business. I’d been told this new stock was manufactured in Pakistan, and was something like Adderall mixed with MDMA …or something. I had seen all the news reports. Depending on what channel you were on, it was either a super drug that gave you magical emotional and intuitive powers and the hyper awareness of Neo in The Matrix… or it was a nasty, majorly addictive upper that caused hallucinations and seizures. Or, it made fucking feel really good, if Evie was to be believed. But, then again, she did have an ulterior motive.

  The bald guy let go and our strung-out fiend flopped down hard to the ground.

  “Get rid of both of them,” she said, stuffing the barrel of her gun back into those laughably tight tights.

  Our two guys exchanged glances and then looked at her. They knew as well as anyone that they would be fools to refuse a direct order from one of the organization’s Queen Bees, but they were old school types, real pieces of shit, and you could just tell it hurt to break their programming and take direction from a woman. She held her gaze on them and they reluctantly nodded and sprang to action. Nobody liked this side of things, of course. Dealing with the gruesome dead body part of the equation was actually something most people in the mafia were squeamish about. That was why they paid vultures like me what they did.

  I shrugged and tucked away my own weapon, trying to still my hands. It was inconvenient, having to be sent to look after this girl and then having her save my life instead. But whatever. I could have squeezed my way to the upper ranks too if I’d had a pair of tits like that.

  “You two… leave immediately, take care of these guys before sunrise. Jack and I will stay behind and pack up the shipment,” she said decisively. The two goons obeyed and had soon dragged the two bodies off, the junkie already dipping into and out of consciousness. I felt bad for the guy as they carted him off, as good as dead already.

  Evie and I scanned the place and checked that it was all clear, then we came back inside and she pulled out a key to unlock the bolts on the container front. It was eerily silent inside the warehouse. She leaned all her weight back to pull open the steel doors so we could both peer into the blackness inside. Vague shadows.

  “You wanna take a look? See exactly what these fools are so ready to throw their lives away for?” she said, then she laughed and took a step inside.

  Chapter 3 - Evelyn

  Slowly, my eyes adjusted to the darkness. I spread out my hands in front of me and felt around what seemed to be giant cardboard boxes for TV screens or other electronics.

  I was never one to be afraid of the dark. In fact, I almost liked that thrill I felt when walking into a darkened room. There’s always that exciting, trembling moment just before the light is switched on where anything could be possible. Anything could be in there, hiding in the darkness…

  “We shouldn’t linger. Let’s just get the shit and go,” Jack said, still standing in the bright rectangle of the door behind me.

  He was right, of course. But if I had to work on a Saturday evening, and get dressed up and come all the way out here, I didn’t see why I couldn’t have a little fun, too. Teetering high on my boot heels, I walked slowly deeper into the container and then I saw it: an “aquarium kit”.

  I tore open the lid and removed a few layers of Styrofoam packaging. And there it was. Not much to look at, in the flesh. But I was intrigued all the same.

  I crouched down, took out my phone to shine some light on the overstuffed packages and confirmed that it was the precious cargo we were here to collect. It was a dull, brown powder that reminded me of cinnamon, but with the faintest glint of blue to it, a lot like the oily sheen you see swirling around the surface of a bubble. Pretty, in a strange way.

  I reached in deep, pulled up the edges of the plastic bag tucked around the stash and hoisted it up, trying to balance my phone under my chin as I did so. The bag was heavy – a good few pounds of the stuff. I flopped it back down onto the floor and looked for anything else of interest, then looked over to Jack, who was still guarding the entrance. He had fucked up tonight’s little incident, sure, but maybe he’d still be good for the heavy lifting. And a few other things, if I had my way…

  “Hey, Jack, come over here.” The echo chamber of the container amplified my voice up to a yell. He looked around nervously and then hopped inside with me.

  “Here it is. This is what all the fuss is about. Crazy huh?” I gestured toward the bag. He didn’t seem all that impressed.

  “Great. I’ll be glad to be rid of it as soon as possible,” he said, and looked around nervously.

  I almost felt bad about what I was about to do to him. But only almost. In those nature documentaries, the alpha males are always shown to be the violent ones, but again, if you want to see some true abject horror, look at what a female in a pride of lions does when she’d pushed to the edge. It was a dog eat dog world, and I was a top bitch for a reason.

  All the way on the drive here I had wondered if I could possibly feel something for this guy, but no. I’m not sure what he could have said or done to change my mind, but by the time he stepped inside that container with me, I think I had decided to go ahead with my plan. It was cruel. I know that. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t have a little fun with him while the opportunity was ripe, did it? In fact, I liked the elegance of it all. I liked feeling so efficient – Jack was going to help me kill two very important birds with one very clever stone.

  I could make out the muscles under his shirt even in the darkness. He wasn’t much like the other hitmen we hired. He didn’t seem so …empty. I would have pegged him for a wrestler maybe, or a quarterback. But not a trained killer. He just didn’t have that look about him.

  “Wanna take some with me?” I said.

  He scoffed loudly and kicked a TV box.

  “Are you fucking crazy?”

  “A little.”

  “Look, can we just get out of here?”

  “Sure we can. But come on, admit that you’re just a little curious…” I said, and sidled up closer to him. It was difficult, in the low light, to tell exactly how close to him I was standing. But the effect was electric all the same. I was done flirting with this guy. It was time now.

  “Did you not see that guy out there? That junkie? You yourself said he was a goner.”

  “Oh, he’s definitely a goner, but that’s because he was stupid. See, you only need the tiniest little bit of this stuff. It’s like that with everything in life …you need to know when to pull back …and when to push it,” I said and took a step closer, until I felt his breath on me, until I was pushing against him.

  He smelt like soap and skin and leather, and I found myself desperately curious to know what he looked like under that unassuming shirt he was wearing. In the semi-darkness, it was easy to reach out and drag my hand down his torso, straight down and to his crotch, where I stopped, brazen, waiting to see what he’d make of me being so bold. He said nothing, but even he couldn’t hide that his breathing had changed.

  “Take a tiny bit with me …and let’s fuck,” I whispered slowly.

  The fact that we should have left by now only made the situation more deliciously forbidden. I’m guilty as charged, I admit it: I get it so rarely that when I do, I need it to be super exciting.

  He exhaled loudly but kept still.

  “This doesn’t feel like a good idea, Evie…” he said, but I knew that he had already half agreed.

  “Come on… you know what they say… if you save a person’s life, you’re responsible for it afterwards, right? Maybe you can say thank you by dropping your pants,” I breathed, now close enough to him that I could feel him thinking about it seriously, close enough that only an inch more and it would be a foregone conclusion.

  I had wanted to fuck him since I first laid eyes on him. I wanted him to help me forget all the
violence for a moment, forget all the scheming and backstabbing and drama and just have fun.

  All at once he lurched forward and grabbed me, pulling me into him with a force that made me squeal in surprise. He kissed me hard, a little angrily, then tore his lips away and began to run hurried hands all up and down my body. His hands certainly knew what they were doing.

  “What the fuck are you wearing,” he said with amusement.

  “Like it?” I smiled.

  He mumbled something and threw himself into kissing my neck as his hands worked on furiously to unbutton his jeans.

  “Wait!” I said and pulled back for a second, my heart pounding in my ears. I reached down and slit the plastic bag open with the sharp edge of my pinky fingernail, then gently pressed the pad of my finger into the exposed, tightly packed powder and then put it to my nostril and snorted. It was like coke but softer somehow. Like only the memory of something burning, a sensation over before it even started. I went back to pick up more and held it out to him, offering up some of the strange brown powder. He hesitated, one hand still hovering over his crotch. I liked him like this. He didn’t know all the things he was going to do yet, but I did.

  “Go on, I won’t tell,” I giggled.

  “But what will it do to us?”

  “Only one way to find out,” I said, and cocked my hips to the side. He snatched at my hand, grabbed my finger and snorted the powder on the end of it, then continued on to a messy, greedy kiss of my other fingers, my hand, my wrist. Damn, this guy was thirsty. But then again, so was I.

  I lunged at him and pinned him hard against a wall of TV boxes, and heard his belt buckle clink to the floor. I pressed up firm against him and sunk into another wild kiss. He was a surprisingly good kisser. His hands were hard, his chest was hard, that thick pole in his boxers was really hard …but his lips were almost supernaturally soft. My own lips worked over his in the darkness, our breath coming in jagged gasps, and I could taste a stinging, metallic edge on his tongue. Pink Kisses, indeed.