Not Forgiven: A Thriller and Suspense Novel: Ungoverned Series

by Shawn Raiford

  "Ah, shit, man! She cut his head off! Yo, that's some sick shit!" Oso commented, walking up behind Happy.

  He wanted to slap Oso for being so blind. Oso did not see the obvious at times. This gringa did not suffer from any sickness; her intention was to scare her enemies. Man has been doing shit like this for thousands of years.

  In ancient times, heads were chopped off and stuck on the ends of poles in the ground, to instill fear in their enemies.

  "This is just to scare you, Oso." Happy stood and got real close. "Does this scare you?"

  Oso grinned. "Nah, man. I ain't scared of no bitch."

  Happy turned and smiled. "Good, me neither. Let's get back to the shop. We need to work on a plan to find this gringa."

  They left the house.

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Heading To The Bar

  Leaning against the bar between two empty barstools, I felt the sting of tequila run down my throat.

  I ordered another.

  While waiting, I twirled a strand of my wig – jet black with purple streaks.

  My second shot was for Timmy. The tequila stung a little less the second time down. The first one was for Sarah. I slammed the shot glass on the bar. "Can I get a Shiner with another shot?"

  Larry, the bartender, finished pouring a drink for another customer, gawked at me, and nodded. "I'll bring them right over, darling."

  "Thanks." I smiled and went back to our booth.

  Henry let me in. Mitch and Julie sat on the other side.

  Julie wrapped her arm around Mitch's shoulders. "Hey, girl, if you don't want this one, I'll take him," She was a lightweight when it came to drinking. Henry told me that she cried for Sarah for twelve hours straight and went to see Brendan.

  When she and Henry arrived here at the bar earlier, she told me that she wanted to get wasted. I told her that would not be a problem in a bar full of cops.

  Henry said, "Be careful there young lady, he might give you something you can't give back."

  I chuckled.

  "Hey, I had all my shots this month!" Mitch exclaimed, extending the joke.

  I touched Mitch's hand. "I might take him after I learn that he's got cancer and only has two days to live!"

  He held his heart, mocking sorrow.

  We all shared in a laugh.

  The fact of the matter was that I found Mitch a bit sexy. He's divorced, drinks too much, doesn't sleep much, and has a proclivity for easy women. He's perfect for me!

  Larry brought over my beer. "Thank you!"

  "You are welcome, darling." He regarded the others in the booth. "Anybody need a refill?"

  No one needed a refill. Larry smiled and moved along to the next booth.

  Julie pointed at a black lady. "Hey, isn't that Tricia Mills?"

  Henry craned his neck. "Yep."

  "Who's Tricia?" Mitch asked.

  "A nurse Julie works with," Henry said.

  His eyes lit up. "You should invite her over," Mitch stared at Tricia. "Baby got back!"

  "Ah too bad, like me, she's married to a cop," Julie said, pinching Mitch's arm.

  "Ouch!" he said, laughing. "It's okay if she's married, means she'll go home afterwards!"

  Mitch and I were the only ones who laughed. Julie gave him the evil eye and Henry put his beer up to his mouth, attempting to block the smile on his face.

  "I'm going to go talk to her, let me out."

  Julie walked away, and Mitch leaned in close. "So we got the guy who Sarah witnessed dumping that body."

  "Who is it?"

  Henry folded his arms. "Rogelio Marquez, owner of Aldo's Restaurant."

  Over the years, I'd eaten there a few times. Good food. "Did he hire Triple H?"

  "No, he knew a couple of dirty cops and they put a hit out on Sarah via Triple H," Mitch said, checking out Tricia's backside.

  "You get them, the cops?" I asked.

  "We got one of them, and we think the second one Triple H killed. But Sarah's murder, the case, is being handled by two other inspectors."

  "Why not you guys?"

  "Sarah was a friend. Conflict of interest."

  "Oh." I took a long pull from my Shiner. I probably wouldn't do anything about the dirty cop for a while; I'd let him sit in prison for a few years. Ex-cops don't do well in that place.

  "Well, they found the unmarked car the second dirty cop drove to talk to Triple H. It was the dumper's car. His name was Antonio Nunez. He went by Tony. His body is still missing," Henry said.

  With half-drunk eyes, Mitch mumbled, "You know what, Chloe?"

  "What?"

  He leaned in, and said, "It turns out that the girl Rogelio killed and dumped this morning, not his first."

  A long pause.

  "Okay tell me, how many?"

  "Not sure yet, but the current count is over twenty young women. HPD found a few, less than ten, shallow graves in his backyard. Crime scene unit is still there. Our Lieutenant is there, told us to go get drunk. He collected driver's licenses. He had over eighty of them, from fifteen states, and it will take a long time to track all of them down. Going to have to get the feds involved."

  "A serial killer?"

  "Yup."

  Even in the state that executes more prisoners than the rest of the country combined, the process still took years for some inmates to get the needle. Hell, his trial might take years.

  I might have to intervene and speed up the process. "You think the dirty cop will get the needle?"

  "No, he confessed and gave us Rogelio, so the DA will cut a deal with him. But sadly we can't link the placement of the hit to Triple H because we cannot find the other cop. Like I said, he's most likely dead in a ditch somewhere."

  "I'm going to get another beer, anyone need another one?" Henry asked.

  "I'll have another Shiner and a shot of tequila," I responded.

  Mitch wanted another Guinness. Henry left.

  "So, we know what you did to Triple H."

  Hiking up my shoulders, I finished my beer. "They killed Sarah and Timmy, so they got what they deserved."

  He nodded in agreement. "Not to go into it, I just want to say that I was at both scenes. It was gruesome to say the least."

  If he kept it up, I might have to leave. I finished the little bit of beer in the bottle. "You know what I used to do, still do from time to time."

  "Yes, I only want you to be safe. Shit, if HPD had just ten of you we would clean this city up so fast!"

  I didn't much care about the side effects of eliminating those guys from this planet. Doing what I did was for selfish reasons, period.

  Glancing around, I spotted Henry. He had stopped by Julie and Tricia before heading to the bar.

  "Does Henry know what I did?"

  "Yes, but he doesn't talk about it."

  Good.

  "He's worried about you getting caught."

  I need to talk to my brother alone and we couldn't do that here. "I'll talk to him."

  "Okay, that'd be great."

  My phone buzzed. I fished the device from my pocket and my genitalia tingled when I recognized Sawyer's number. He texted me, wanting to meet up. He had been busy the past couple of weeks, trying to finish up his latest novel.

  After being sexually teased by Mitch's presence I needed Sawyer to manhandle me and give me at least one orgasm.

  "That your boyfriend?"

  "No, but he and I have sex every now and then, so we're more like friends with benefits." I texted Sawyer back. If I were honest with myself, I did sort of think of Sawyer as my boyfriend, or significant other, which only meant that I saw myself in a monogamous relationship with him. I didn't care what it was called, long as I got to be with him. He made me laugh, and I liked hanging out with him. His presence made me forget about the bad things.

  If he and I were going to date that meant he would have to come over to my place one of these days. For now, we met up in sleazy motels, and that was okay with me.

  "Lucky guy." Mitch hinted
at his interest in me. Not the first time, probably not the last.

  "If you and I started dating, you'd fall in love with me and I'd just end up breaking your heart. I am damaged goods, beyond repair. I couldn't do that to you or my brother. I think us remaining friends, is the best, Mitch."

  He smiled such a beautiful smile. "Okay, no problem."

  Sawyer sent me the name and address of the motel where he wanted to meet. My nipples hardened. "Okay, sorry, it was good talking, but I got to go."

  Mitch got out of the booth, and then I did. We hugged.

  "Chloe, please be careful."

  I winked at him. "Thanks, Mitch. I'll, see you later." A moment of sadness in his face made me smile.

  I understood the frustration. "And," I placed my hands on his sides, pulling him to me. "The day you stop being a cop, we revisit this topic, okay?"

  He grinned. "Yeah, sounds good."

  I walked up to Julie and Henry.

  Tricia looked like she wanted to say something, maybe introduce herself, but she turned away to talk to a man that I assumed was her husband.

  I tapped him on the shoulder.

  Henry and Julie swung toward me. "Oh, I forgot you wanted a beer?"

  "No, it's cool. I'm leaving."

  Julie pouted. "Ah, come on, stay for a while and drink with me. You and I will drink these coppers under the table!"

  Disappointment glimmered in his eyes. "You can't stay for a little while longer? Just for another drink?"

  Even though Henry, Julie and the kids were the most important people in my life, there were some things they could not do for me.

  "No, I am going to meet my boy-toy," I whispered in his ear.

  Henry's face lit up. He and Julie had been telling me for years to find a man. He wanted nieces and nephews. Me with kids?

  "Okay, be careful, and if you want to come by the house later, after the boy-toy, you could sneak into bed with one of the kid

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  Twenty Minutes Later

  The room smelled like cigarettes and week-old pussy as I entered.

  Each of us took a shower, and then we were both naked on bed. Sawyer was on top of me, kissing my neck. His hands, strong for someone who punched a keyboard all day, all over my ass and hips.

  I pulled his hair, and he pulled mine. Sawyer nibbled on my nipples, driving me crazy. I couldn't believe how wet I was, and was afraid he might fall in. He started kissing my belly, tongued my belly button—I smiled.

  Sawyer found a place for two of his fingers, sliding them inside easily. His fingers moved back and forth for over a minute before he used his tongue, locking his head in-between my thighs, I screamed, "YES!" My first orgasm came fast.

  I pushed him over onto his back, not bothering with the trails of kisses. "Can I get a ride, sir?"

  Sawyer pointed to his crotch. "Okay, get on and I'll give you a ride, ma'am."

  He was average size, but I felt his hardness inside me, feeling so amazing. Rocking back and forth while he held my tits in his hands, I did not last long. Maybe four more minutes before I had my second orgasm.

  He looked at me, his eyes narrowed slightly. The edges of his mouth turned up a hair. "That was quick."

  "Yes, it was." I collapsed into the fetal position next to him. I was sweating. A couple of minutes passed before the aftershocks stopped.

  He entered me from behind. This time my orgasm took longer. About ten minutes later I had my third orgasm and Sawyer grunted when he finished a minute later.

  With only coming once, I almost felt sorry for Sawyer.

  "That was great. I, uh, need water. You want some?"

  Suddenly I felt dehydrated. "Yes, please."

  He walked over to the small table and reached in a white plastic bag. He pulled two water bottles from the bag. "I bought these on the way here."

  Good thinking. I killed one of the bottles, still feeling after-orgasm mini shocks.

  Sawyer laid down next to me and placed his hand on my hip. "That was really great."

  "Yep."

  An orgasm was considered awesome by all humans, but three of them in less than forty-five minutes came close to transcendental. Who needed drugs when sex was available?

  He looked me in the eye. "Sex with you is always great."

  A part of me, regardless of how much I wanted to deny it, considered what Sawyer and I just did, not only as sex; we made love.

  I didn't understand what was wrong with me, but I didn't care. Sawyer made me feel good, and I didn't need to be drunk to have sex, or make love, with him and that was awesome.

  We cuddled and in less than ten minutes Sawyer was snoring.

  Chapter Sixty

  Bloody Shoes

  Two days later...

  Happy woke up early and went to the shop.

  Four of his men were with him. They spent the night with him, sleeping in the other bedrooms and on the living room couch.

  Oso waited for him in the parking lot. Happy told him to pick up Bull's mother and take her to the hospital. He was to tell her that her son would get the best care and not to worry about money.

  "How's Bull doing?"

  "He had surgery, not sure what they did, they explained it, but I didn't understand after he said they got the bullet out. The doctor told his mom that Bull would be okay and that he needs to rest now. He might be ready to leave the hospital in a week," Oso replied.

  Happy entered the shop and eyed a couple of dozen of his men, sleeping on the floor, on blankets. Some slept in chairs, and one even had passed out on a table.

  He went into his office and got busy doing actual work for the shop. Twenty minutes later his secretary came in with Starbucks coffee for her and him. He gave her extra money in her check for the coffees and the blowjobs under his desk once or twice a week.

  Oso came in an hour later. "You got a package from UPS."

  He read the packing slip.

  To: Happy Morales.

  Happy not Juan.

  Strange.

  He opened the package. There were tennis shoes. Most were stained in blood. The number of tennis shoes matched the same amount of men he'd lost.

  This package was from her.

  "Those are their shoes right?" Oso asked.

  Happy nodded.

  Oso pulled something from the box. A piece of paper, folded.

  He jutted his chin out. "What's that?"

  His head tilted to the side, and his forehead wrinkled. "It's a card, with 'Happy' written on it." Oso handed over the card.

  He read 'Happy' and opened it. A card with a cartoon character lying in a bed in a jail cell lay on top. It read:

  "Hope you enjoy prison! It has extra big dicks just for your tiny asshole.

  Yours truly,

  Rose"

  Her name is Rose!

  This woman, Rose, didn't play around. She took out almost twenty of his men in less than half a day with hardly any planning.

  Maybe she knew something, her way of telling him that the cops were coming for him. He understood what she was telling him. HPD was coming.

  HPD would arrest him and threaten him as pigs always did when they hauled him in. Never once did he ever break.

  The last time pigs had questioned him, they hit him in the balls, but he didn't break.

  He wouldn't break now. The cops didn't have shit on him.

  "Oso!"

  Oso came. "Sup, Happy?"

  He pulled out a wad of money. "I need you to get out of here for a while, take the others and go watch a movie and get something to eat afterwards."

  He flicked three $100 bills out of the wad and handed them over to his underling.

  Oso took the money and gave him a look. "For what? I can't leave you here unguarded."

  "I think the police are coming," Happy said, observing the bloody shoes. "You need to take these with you, throw them away in a dumpster somewhere."

  "Come on, Happy, you think the cops got anything on us?"

  "N
o, but that won't stop them coming in here and arresting everyone. So, you have to go. Get out of town for a few days, don't worry about me. I got a good lawyer, he's a Jew."

  Oso folded his arms. "No way, Happy, I have to stay and protect you. Me and the rest of Triple H will protect you! Somos familia!"

  "Oso, I am not asking. You need to leave. Go down to Galveston or San Antonio. I don't want you getting pinched."

  It took Oso another ten minutes to leave and take everyone else. Happy went back to his office and sat there and waited for them to come for him.

  Chapter Sixty-One

  Happy Ending

  Damn maranos.

  The pigs had him handcuffed, chained like a dog. They came for him two hours after opening the box from Rose.

  He did not like being chained. Once out of here, Happy might have to pay a visit to these pigs' wives, and play "hide the sausage." His blood boiled the more they made him wait.

  He sat in the interrogation room for hours, handcuffed to the table. His lawyer eventually arrived, and he talked to him for twenty minutes.

  The pigs said they wanted to show him something. They had nothing on him. Just a waste of his time. Happy brought up his hand, but the cuffs prevented him from scratching his nose. He bent over and scratched. Happy tried to pull off the cuffs; they didn't bend.

  "They got nothing on me!"

  His lawyer told him to calm down and just wait to see what the cops had on him. Putting him in cuffs was just a scare tactic. There was a light knock at the door just before it opened.

  Lou Reid and William Nelson entered the room. These two cock-sucking pigs arrested him at the shop.

  William, the fat one, had a laptop and sat down, placing the computer gently down on the table.

  Reid stood, smiling. Happy wanted a few minutes alone with the pig. Either one. Most, if not all, cops knew many fight techniques. They received training in the military or on the job, but Happy learned how to fight by fighting. He fought many times for his very life many times. Reid was a pussy. Happy smiled at the thought of killing Reid with his bare hands.