“How the fuck did that not hurt him?” Joe said, shaking his head.
“He doesn’t feel, Joe,” I replied.
All heads turned my way. I shrugged my shoulders, there was no explanation needed. Robert didn’t feel anything; he had no emotions, that much was obvious to me.
“Did you see that punch? Fuck, that kid can box,” Joe said. The conversation then moved on to how Rob had put Mack on his ass.
Joey sat in his usual chair, his feet up on the corner of his father’s desk, ignoring the conversation, sneering and puffing away on his cigarette. He smirked at me as he deliberately flicked the ash to the floor.
****
One night Robert said, “I’ve had enough of being an errand boy, I’m going to talk to Joe about letting us do more.”
It had been obvious over the previous few weeks that he was getting bored just picking up laundry, running packages around and sitting about the office. To be honest, so was I. For the past few years we had been running around DC and it had gotten tedious.
“Like what?” I asked.
“What does Jonathan actually do? Or Richard, or Paul for that matter? I want to learn what they do, maybe move about a bit,” he replied.
“Do you think Joe will let us?”
“Don’t see why not. It’s not like we don’t know the kind of business he runs here, is it?”
“I guess not. Does that bother you?”
“No, I just want to earn enough money, Trav.”
“Enough for what?”
“Enough to know I’ll never be hungry or poor again.”
“How will you know when enough is enough though?”
“I guess we never do, but this isn’t what I planned for us.”
“You gonna let me in on this grand plan?” I asked.
He chuckled. “One day.”
“You don’t actually have one do you?”
“Oh, I have a plan. I told you, we are never going to be hungry again. I want a place to live and I don’t want to have to rely on someone the rest of my life for that.”
So that was the grand plan. Seemed okay to me, not that we were going hungry anyway. Evelyn still brought us meals, although not every day. There were times we went out for a pizza or to a local restaurant where we had become regulars. The manager of that particular restaurant, one owned by Joe, always took pleasure in serving us. At fifteen years old we both looked older; we weren’t just a couple of kids looking odd and awkward. Robert hated junk food, candy or soda but sometimes I would grab a burger while he ate the pasta Evelyn brought.
The following morning Robert announced to Joe that he wanted us to do more. There was no asking; Robert never asked for anything, he stated what he wanted. Of course, Joe said no at first. But we were relentless. Day after day Robert would badger the guys, asking them questions and trying to learn. We learned that Jonathan was Joe’s right hand man; he managed all the money, and he advised Joe. Paul looked after any construction projects Joe had going on and Richard dealt with all the tenants. Goon was just a driver, we knew that, and then there was Mack. Mack boxed and when he wasn’t boxing he accompanied Joe on his business dealings. It was obvious to us that he was Joe’s personal security.
Eventually Joe gave in.
“Quit with the nagging will you? You sound like my daughter. Fine, you go with Richard and help with the rents,” Joe said.
Robert gave me one of his ‘I told you so’ looks as we followed Richard from the office.
We accompanied Richard to the first block, probably the worst one that Joe owned. It was run down and not in the nicest part of DC. As we entered the front door Richard handed us a book and pen. We were to collect rent and write the apartment number down. Robert was to start on the bottom floor and I was sent to the top. Richard went to meet with the supervisor.
I made my way up the stairs, opting to avoid the elevator with its broken light and stench of piss. At first I was unsure of the reception I would receive. I was just fifteen years old; would the tenants take me seriously and pay up? However, after I knocked on the first door, I knew I had found my calling. Standing before me, dressed in a top that was way too low and a skirt way too short, was a goddess. Well, I say a goddess; she would have looked better had she not had a cigarette hanging from her blood-red lips and did something with the bleached blonde hair with black roots.
I didn’t care though, she looked me up and down and smiled, obviously pleased with what she saw. I leant against the door frame making sure to flex my muscles.
“Hey, beautiful,” I said.
She smiled some more.
“Hey yourself, handsome,” she replied. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m here to collect the rent but how about I take your name first,” I replied, trying to sound as sexy as I could.
She looked at me and licked her lips before replying. “My clients call me Mistress Spanx.”
She took her time to spell out her name so I got it right.
“Well, Mrs. Spanx, we’re updating our records and need a telephone number if you have one,” I replied, chancing my arm.
“How about I give you a card?” She handed over her business card.
“Oh, you do massages,” I said.
“It’s one of the services I offer. Now, what do I call you?” she purred as she spoke.
“Travis, but my friends call me Trav.”
“Well, Trav, how about you come back and visit me another time?”
“Sure, when were you thinking?” I asked, a grin spreading from ear to ear.
“In about three years, when you’re a man,” she said before closing her door.
I stood for a minute, wondering what I had done wrong. Fuck her; she didn’t know what she was missing. I put a big cross beside her name and the words ‘no rent’ then moved on to the next apartment.
The next door I knocked on was opened by another goddess, although maybe not so forward as Mrs. Spanx. She was shorter than me, maybe just a little over five feet with short brown hair and big blue eyes. I watched as her eyes widened, a sure sign she liked what she saw, right? I consulted my notebook.
“Good morning, Mrs. err...” I said.
“Shenton, Karen Shenton,” she replied.
“Oh, right. Well, good morning, Mrs. Shenton, and how are you today?”
“I’m very well, what can I help you with?”
“I’m here to collect the rent and to update our records,” I replied.
“Oh, okay. Please, come in,” she offered, appearing slightly surprised.
As she opened the door wide and stood to one side, I entered her apartment. It was tidy and comfortable. I stood in the middle of her living room while she fetched her purse. Counting out notes, she handed me that week’s rent. There was an awkward moment of silence as I counted the bills, not that there was a need to.
“You said you needed to update your records?” she said.
“Ah yes, do you have a telephone number? You know, just in case of emergencies,” I replied.
“Emergencies? Wouldn’t the supervisor take care of notifying us?” she asked.
“He should, but he might be the emergency.”
“Mmm, I see. Sorry, but I don’t have a telephone.”
I think she had caught on to my game, but the banter was fun and I liked her. She was pretty, petite and looked like she would fit nice and snug into my side. I felt a stirring in my pants and turned from her trying to subtly adjust myself.
“Is there anything else I can help you with?” she asked.
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her what she could help me with but I refrained. I smiled at her, my killer smile, the one the ladies always respond to.
“I think that’s about everything for the moment, Karen. Can I call you Karen?” I asked.
“I guess so, let me show you out,” she replied.
She didn’t ask my name, I assumed she was just overwhelmed by my personality. I made my way out of her apartment and paused be
fore moving onto the next.
“So, I’ll see you next week?” I said.
“I imagine so,” she replied with a smile before closing the door.
Smiling, I nodded to myself and put a tick beside her name in the notebook. Yep, she fancied me for sure. I’d only got to my fourth flat before I heard Robert on the floor below me; his bored tone of voice was not going to help him make friends.
“You only did four apartments?” he said when he saw me smiling.
“I was building relationships,” I said.
“You were chatting up the ladies, I heard you,” he replied.
“Yes, same thing. You should try it. I bet I get laid before you.”
“I don’t care who gets laid first, but I’ve done three fucking floors here and you’ve done four apartments. Four,” he said holding up four fingers as if I hadn’t understood.
“But I got one phone number, look,” I said waving the business card under his nose. He snatched it from me.
“Mistress Spanx, really?” he said as he handed it back.
“She told me to come back and visit with her,” I replied, giving him a wink.
“You’ll catch a fucking disease from that one,” he said.
“You don’t even know her, she seemed like a nice lady.”
“I’m not sure lady is the right word, Trav. She’s a hooker.”
“You don’t know that, it says here she does massages.”
Robert looked at me, his eyebrows raised. “Mistress Spanx, Trav. What do you think she really does for a living?” He sighed and shook his head before turning away and walking back down the stairs.
I followed flipping the card over in my fingers. It was an unusual name to have, for sure. Robert was still chuckling to himself as we caught up with Richard and the supervisor. Richard was going through a list of repairs, or rather, how not to repair and keep the tenants happy at the same time.
“What’s funny?” he asked Robert.
“Trav here thinks Mistress Spanx is a nice lady who does massages,” Rob said.
I was a little annoyed to see both Richard and the Super doubled over in laughter. I huffed and made my way out of the building. All right, so she had blown me off, so to speak, but I wasn’t giving up that easy. And so what if she was a hooker? Everyone had to earn a living, didn’t they?
****
The next few weeks followed the same pattern. Robert got increasingly stressed as he covered most of the blocks we collected rent from.
“PR my friend, that’s what I’m doing,” I’d told him one day.
“You don’t even know what the fuck PR stands for,” he’d replied.
“Yes I do, Private Relationships, that’s what I’m building here. You might want to try it.”
I was determined to get laid first; I wanted something that I managed to do before Robert. He was faster than me in the gym, a better boxer, more educated - but he wasn’t going to get laid anytime soon unless he changed his attitude. And the ladies didn’t like him; he scared most people, even more so as he got older.
My PR’ing finally paid off. I knocked on Karen’s door, ignoring Mistress Spanx, and planted a huge smile on my face. My smile slipped somewhat when she answered. It was clear she had been crying; her eyes were red-rimmed. She didn’t greet me with the smile that she usually did, the smile that made her eyes sparkle and little dimples appear on her cheeks.
“Oh, Travis. Hold on, let me get my purse,” she said, leaving me standing in the hallway.
When she returned I took the money and pocketed it.
“Are you okay?” I asked. I was genuinely concerned.
“Sure. Just a bad day, that’s all.”
“Want to talk about it? I’m a good listener,” I said.
She chuckled. “You don’t want to hear my problems.”
“Sure I do. How about I make you a coffee and you can tell me what has those pretty eyes so sad,” I had been waiting to use that line forever.
She opened the door and I followed her to the kitchen. The outdated kitchen had a cupboard door that needed fixing, and a tap that required a jiggle so the water would flow into the coffee machine. Karen sat on the sofa, and while we waited for the coffee to brew I sat beside her.
“So, what’s up?” I asked.
“Life, Trav, that’s what’s up. I lost my job the other day; I don’t know how long I can stay here before the money runs out.”
“What about your husband, doesn’t he work?”
She chuckled. “I’m not married.”
“Oh, I thought... assumed you would be.”
“I let people believe that, I don’t know why,” she replied, as she handed me a freshly brewed coffee.
“So what did you do, for a job?” I asked.
“It was nothing much, just cooked at the local diner. You know the one around the block, Hot Rods?”
I knew the one, Joe owned it. On the odd occasion I’d managed to persuade Robert to eat a burger, it’s where we went, but I hadn’t noticed Karen there before.
“I know it, I know the owner too. Want me to have a word? See if we can get your job back?” I asked.
“I don’t know. The manager isn’t very nice. He wanted to take me on a date and when I refused I lost my job.”
“Wait here,” I said.
I left the apartment and made my way down the stairs. Robert was talking to a cat, a cat being held by the one tenant I never wanted to call on, Mrs. Wrenn. He looked up as I approached.
“I need to do something,” I said.
“Do what?” he asked.
“Beat the shit out of someone,” I replied as I carried on walking.
“Sailor, tell Mrs Wrenn I’ll be back in a minute. Trav, wait up,” I heard him say.
“Sailor?” I asked as he caught up.
“It’s the cat’s name, don’t ask. So who are we beating the shit out of and why?”
I told him about Karen losing her job and he shrugged his shoulders. “Seems a good enough reason, let’s go.”
It took less than a minute to walk the block to Hot Rods. It was lunchtime and the diner was full. As we entered I spotted the manager just behind the counter, he appeared to be leaning a little too close to a waitress. I could see the forced smile on her face as she turned her head slightly away from him, trying to angle her body so he wasn’t pressed up against her tits. I strode over.
Reaching forwards I took the arm of the waitress and with a smile pulled her towards me and away from him. I then swung my fist back and punched him square in the face. He fell backwards, landing on his ass as blood squirted from his nose.
“My girlfriend, Karen Shenton, will be back at work tomorrow. Don’t make me come back here again,” I said.
I heard a chuckle from behind; it was audible because the whole diner had fallen silent as they watched me. Turning, I saw Robert. His arms were folded across his chest and he had a large grin on his face. As I walked back around the counter the waitress whispered, “Thank you.”
The manager hadn’t said a word. He rose, grabbed some napkins to hold to his face and shuffled off with his head bent low. Robert and I made our way out.
“Your girlfriend?” he asked.
“He doesn’t have to know she isn’t, does he?” I replied with a grin.
Back at the apartment, Robert continued talking to Sailor, who was still in Mrs. Wrenn’s arms, and I made my way up to the top floor. I knocked on Karen’s door and she opened it immediately. She had a phone to her ear and a smile on her face.
“Yes, he’s back here now. I’ll see you tomorrow, early shift,” she said to her caller.
She reached out and held my hand; she pulled me into the apartment as she placed the phone on its cradle in the hallway.
“Thought you didn’t have a phone,” I said as she raised her arms and placed them around my neck.
“I didn’t, but then I didn’t have anyone to call until now.”
I placed my arms around her waist and pulled he
r to me. She rose on tiptoes until her lips were millimetres from mine. I’d never kissed a girl properly before but instinctively parted my lips and followed her lead. Her tongue swept along my lower lip until finding mine, she tasted of the coffee we had drunk earlier. She pressed herself further into my body and I could feel my cock growing hard. I tried to pull my hips back, embarrassed, but she had me pinned to the wall. Her kiss was getting deeper and I heard a small moan from her. Fuck, this was serious. I pulled my head back slightly and smiled down at her.
“I need to get back to work,” I said as one hand circled her lower back.
“You sure?” she asked.
I nodded. “How about I come visit later, when I’m done at the gym,” I said.
“I’ll look forward to that,” she replied.
With a brief kiss and a wink, I left her apartment. As her door closed, leaving me in the hallway, I slumped against the wall and adjusted my cock which was now painfully straining against the zipper of my jeans. I couldn’t stop the grin from spreading as I knocked on the next door and greeted the elderly, very grumpy owner of apartment number fifteen. As usual, Robert had completed most of the block before we met half way on the stairs.
“What are you grinning at?” he asked.
“I got a rather nice thank you from Karen,” I replied.
“You got laid?”
“Not yet, later though.”
“Does she know you’re not quite sixteen years old and a virgin at that?” he said with a smirk on his face.
“Of course she doesn’t, I’m not that fucking stupid,” I replied.
“How old does she think you are?”
“Fuck knows. Who cares, I’m in there. Watch and learn, bro, watch and learn.”
“Make sure you get protection,” Robert said.
“For sure, heading to the drugstore right now. Reckon they do extra large?”
Shaking his head and laughing, we left the block. The drugstore did, indeed, stock extra large but I opted for large instead; I’d rather they be too tight than loose. I bought a pack of three, stuffed them in my back pocket, and we made our way back to Joe’s. I whistled all the way, while Robert scowled.
“Jealousy is not a nice trait, Rob,” I said. He rolled his eyes, did his sigh thing and we carried on in silence.
Travis: To accompany the Fallen Angel Series - A Mafia Romance Page 9
