by Miss Merikan
Candy turned around with her eyes wide open. “What do you mean you don’t have the money? I need it today.”
Sam opened his mouth, unsure what to do. Why the fuck was he the one to deal with this shit? Was he supposed to first pull his girlfriend into the drug muling, and then make her wait for the money?
“Call him.”
Her gaze drilled Sam to the wall with lack of affection. Without a word to him, Candy picked up the phone and tapped on the screen, then put it to her ear, and waited. It’d been a while since Sam felt so completely ignored and unwanted, and if it were possible, he’d just take his things and go. He was in no mood for pursuit in face of such frosty eyes.
“Hey, Borg. Sam’s here, and it looks like he’s forgot part of what he was supposed to bring.”
Sam cringed when Candy passed him the phone.
“Is everything under control, Sam?” came Borg’s calm voice.
He closed his eyes. “Yeah, but she says she was supposed to get the cash for the wedding cake tonight. Won’t let me leave,” he chuckled for Borg’s ears.
Borg groaned. “Red Jack was supposed to bring that part. Is that fucker still not there? Obviously. Can’t she wait ‘til tomorrow?”
Sam looked up at her, already knowing the answer. “Can you wait ‘til tomorrow?”
“No!” Candy clenched her pretty little fists and shook them. “I was promised it for today.”
Sam licked his lips. He was between a rock and a hard place. “She says ...”
“Yeah, I heard her,” muttered Borg on the other side of the line.
Sam frowned. “So ...”
Borg groaned. “Go to Red Jack’s and pick it up if she can’t wait ‘til tomorrow to buy new fucking shoes, or some shit.”
“Is he even home?”
“Just fucking locate him. Am I supposed to do everything for you?”
“Right. I’ll do it,” muttered Sam, and Borg disconnected without a goodbye. The man was as pissed off as Candy. And speaking of Candy, she was still looking at Sam with the eyes of a furious mama bear.
“Red Jack was supposed to get it here. I’ll try to find him.”
“Please do that, and come back with it before I close for the day.”
It was actually kind of weird to see her this serious about it, but then again, it was a serious amount of drugs on her hands now.
“I get no kiss then?” he tried half-heartedly.
Candy swallowed, and took the two steps to cross the distance between them. “Just come back quick, okay?” She gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek, but it was enough to lift Sam’s spirits slightly.
He took hold of her hand and squeezed it gently as his chest filled with a giddy heat. “Look, I shouldn’t have asked you about this whole candy thing. Maybe we could grab a coffee when I’m back?” he tried.
Candy let out a little chuckle. “You hate coffee.”
Sam scowled, even though her smile was like a weight off his chest. “That’s a form of speech. I’ll have lemonade. With cake, obviously.”
Candy just nodded and took the drugs off the table. She stuffed them into one of the cupboards and locked it with a key. “We’ll see what happens.”
Sam smiled at her and backed away, suddenly hitting the door with his back. He pressed his lips together and reached for the handle. Only then could he flee the embarrassment of forgetting where he was.
He looked at the sales girl, who gave him a professional smile as she helped a customer make a choice, and rushed outside, already calling Red Jack. The bastard was always causing trouble. The continuous rings inside his phone were drilling his brain, and he was about to give up when Red finally picked up.
“Yeah?”
Sam kicked the support from underneath his bike and mounted it. “Where the fuck are you? Candy needs her cash.”
“I’m picking up some food for Monster. The fucker’s starting to piss me off. He said he won’t eat pizza with salami. I mean, what the actual fuck? Who does he think he is? But I don’t want Glock on my case.”
Sam didn’t understand why it would be a problem to order one Monster liked, but he dropped it and went down to business. Candy needed her money, and she’d get it on time. And they would have a date. “Right, I’ll pick it up. Where are you?”
“I’m at Venecia’s. Just go round to my house. I’ll buy some more food.”
Sam looked at the window of Candyland to check when it was closing and slowly switched on his bike. There would be enough time for dinner before dessert. “Make it a meatilicious.”
*
Sam parked in front of Red Jack’s beat-up beach house, and he saw some movement inside, so Red Jack must have come back. The place looked shabby from the outside, but Red Jack had it nicely decked out inside, with sofas, modern furniture, and a massive flat screen TV.
He stopped the bike in front of the garage and rapped on the door. His stomach started rumbling on the way here, and now he wanted his pizza.
“Come in!” Red Jack yelled from inside.
Sam pushed the door and walked into the spacious living room, where Red was spread out in a leather chair with his boots propped on the coffee table. There was a stack of pizzas on the sofa, and Sam was quick to find his.
“Where is he anyway?”
“In the basement. I’m making him wait ‘cause he pissed me off. But I suppose it could be feeding time.” Red took a deep breath and grabbed the two other pizza boxes.
Sam bit into the thin, crispy deliciousness that was his favorite pizza. He knew he shouldn’t be okay with Red talking about Monster like he was an alligator, but that was actually a very good metaphor for the creep. “You want to eat with him?”
Red Jack shrugged. “He’s not a leper, you know. I imagine even he gets lonely in there. He hasn’t said so, but I think he does. Like, anyone would, seriously. I sit around and watch him play games sometimes.” He led Sam through the kitchen and all the way to a messy room with a washing machine. He kicked a laundry hamper to the side and rolled up a dirty, old carpet, revealing a trap door.
Sam kept munching on the pizza while he held the pizza boxes in his other hand. “Yeah? What is he playing? Serial Killer Commando?”
Red Jack laughed out loud. “Assassin’s Creed.” He pulled the trap door open, revealing steep, concrete staircase. The ceiling was high enough to not feel claustrophobic, but it was still freaky to have something like that under a regular house.
“Yo, Monster, we have food!” called out Sam, handing the boxes to Red Jack, who already went downstairs. He quickly joined him in the large, somewhat dusty space that smelled of concrete. It was rather empty, with some clutter gathered by one of the walls. Close to the stairs were boxes full of nonperishable snacks, as well as some sodas and juice. Monster sat on a mattress laying on the bare floor, with a video game controller in hand. The cool glow from the television set gave his expressionless face even more of an edge.
“Hey, Sam.”
“I bought you a thin crust, gluten-free one,” Red Jack said and dropped the box on the mattress by Monster’s side. “So no complaining if it’s got mushrooms or whatever.”
Sam noticed a door to the side, probably a toilet.
Monster let out a long breath. “I’ll have it,” he said, sounding as if he were doing Red Jack a favor.
Sam bit back a laugh when he saw a vein bulge on Red’s forehead. He sat on the floor next to the television and opened his box. “I heard you’ve been using your free time to relax.”
Monster gave him a glance of silent death and bit into the pizza. “Not really.”
Red Jack laughed out loud with his mouth full. “He’s complained that the games are too easy.”
“Why didn’t you get him something more difficult?” asked Sam.
“Why couldn’t you bring money to Candy? You’d at least get some for the effort,” growled Red Jack.
Sam stuffed the remaining piece of the slice into his mouth to avoid answering. At this point, getting some meant ha
ving cake with her. That was the pinnacle of his ambitions for tonight.
Red shrugged, watching him hamster the food. “And I can’t be spending money on more games. I already pay for his keep here.”
Sam hardly suppressed a smile. “Maybe Monster could pay you for his entertainment,” he suggested with a slight kick to Monster’s boot.
“You could do something else for me,” muttered Monster while chewing. “Send a text message.”
Red Jack rolled his eyes. “You know it’s not allowed. No Internet, no phone, no nothing until Borg says so.”
Monster frowned. “I just want you to text a girl that she can stop wearing ben wa balls up her junk.”
Sam choked on the pizza. That was probably the last thing he’d expect from stone-cold Monster. All those years he was convinced the fucker didn’t have sex at all.
Red Jack’s head turned to Monster in slow motion. “What? I mean … what?” He must have shared Sam’s sentiment.
“Text her. She must be all chafed,” said Monster without much emotion as he ate the pizza.
Sam frowned. “Is she like your fuckbuddy?”
Red Jack nodded, stuffing his face with more pizza. “Yeah, you’ve never said a word about no girl. To be honest, I sort of thought you were a fag.”
Sam hid behind this pizza. Did that mean Red was fine with gay people as long as they weren’t open about their sexuality? That was something he never knew about him.
Monster shrugged. “No. I’m just not interested in fucking at home.”
“Why?” asked Sam.
“It’s messy.”
“Is this girl some special snowflake?”
“No.”
That was how he always talked and why Sam found him so fucking frustrating. “So how’s Lucy?” he asked Red to change the subject. “Last time I saw you two, she was bored with your company.”
Red’s nostrils flared. “For fuck’s sake, why you bring up the bitch? She’s a stuck up fucking whore, who can’t wait five minutes to get into a hot tub.”
A little smirk appeared on Monster’s lips, but he didn’t say anything.
Sam shrugged. “Didn’t you know I’d be there with Candy? It was Borg and Viper who set this up.”
“No, I didn’t fucking know,” hissed Red, clearly still pissed off about that night. “I thought everyone was out at the party. Oh, well, at least I got another flash of Candy …”
Sam exhaled and shook his head. “She is well built,” he said, discreetly watching Red Jack for reactions. He wanted this big, burly guy to be jealous of his woman.
Red Jack fished out his phone and leaned over to Monster. He tapped the screen, and Sam was shocked to hear Candy’s and Angel’s screams. The fucker filmed it when Sam was too busy covering himself to notice.
“What do you think, Monster? Worth whatever-balls up her pussy for a week?” Red Jack asked, as if Sam weren’t there.
Monster frowned. “And that’s exciting because of what? Her ass?”
Sam leapt for the phone, throwing the pizza box off his knees. “Hey! What the fuck, Red?”
“What? Can’t I keep it in my spank bank?” Red snorted and rolled to the side to keep the phone away. “And yeah, Monster. For fuck’s sake. Yes, it’s hot because you can see her ass. Christ!”
Sam snarled at him, heating up by the second. “Delete this fucking video! She’s not some club slut!”
“Okay, okay!” Red Jack sighed and stared for a few more seconds before deleting the video. “You’re so hung up on the bitch. Are you even an actual couple, or do you just piss on her leg so no one else can fuck her?”
Sam grimaced and returned to the pizza. “It’s complicated. Hasn’t been that long yet, and now she’s pissed off at me for asking for candy pies.”
Monster chuckled. “Women.”
Red Jack pushed on his shoulder. “‘Women’ what? What the fuck do you know about women? No one ever saw you with any.”
“I don’t talk about fucking. I fuck,” Monster said casually, completely unbothered.
Sam cleared his throat. “But I might get back on her good side if she gets her money on time, get it?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Red Jack waved his hand at Sam, still looking at Monster. “So what’s your type?”
Monster gave him a sideways glance. “You don’t need to know.”
Sam chuckled. “Especially that his type is all women.”
“I just want to know what kind of woman wants to nail him.” Red Jack groaned and got back to his pizza.
Monster didn’t bother answering, but Sam thought that they might be surprised. After all, didn’t women want to fuck the dangerous types? Monster was like the embodiment of that phrase.
Sam pulled out his cell phone and gave it to Monster. “Here, text her.”
Red Jack chewed in silence, watching them both, as Monster typed.
Sam slapped him on the thigh. “What’s up with you? Did we make a dig at that sensitive heart of yours?”
Red Jack frowned. “I just don’t know why you’re so obsessed with Candy. Sure, she’s pretty, she’s a blonde, but what? Does her pussy taste like cotton candy, or something?”
Sam sighed, looking at his watch. He still had time. “It kinda reminds me of strawberry pie,” he joked and nudged Red with the tip of his boot.
It did elicit a smirk out of Red Jack. “I want a new girl, you know? There’s no new faces around.”
“Tinder.” Monster chuckled, and it was something so rare Sam wished he could take a photo.
“So fucking funny!” Red Jack slapped the back of Monster’s head and got up.
“Don’t be so sour!” called out Sam, in excellent mood. Things were looking up for him for once.
Chapter 18
Candy checked her phone again as the time ticked away, and every second felt like an hour. She tried to let Bastian know that she wouldn’t be able to get him the money tonight, but no matter how many texts she sent, he never answered. Where the fuck was Sam? Nothing was going right today.
The only thing to calm her down was the baking. She was already icing the third cake with the filling of nondescript pills in a plastic bag. What had been a bad idea from the beginning was now turning into a nightmare with the money not here. The worst thing was that even standing here in the kitchen, accompanied just by the ticking of the clock, her thoughts kept drifting back to Sam. The way he looked at her today, like a beaten puppy seeking affection, like he’d even drink coffee to spend time with her. Then again, if that was the case, where was he? Couldn’t he find Red Jack anywhere? Time was really running out.
Candy’s new assistant already went home, and with the baking needing to be done, she locked the front door. Late customers could ring her out of the kitchen.
The pastry cream smelled of sugar and strawberries, but since the cake was essentially a fake, she used ingredients that she’d never wreck real cake with, food coloring and aromas instead of real fruit. It would still taste good to many. Her mother made cakes with store-bought cake mix and Cool Whip, topped them with canned pineapple, and that was that. But Candy believed baking was a craft, something she loved, a way to express herself, and so it made her cringe to produce this junk. It felt like such a waste of time to make a cake that no one would ever eat.
A rattling at the door made her sigh in relief, but that feeling was gone as soon as she heard Bastian’s voice at the front. “Open up!”
Candy gasped, and turned off the light in the kitchen. She had already texted him that she wouldn’t be here. With her adrenaline levels rising beyond measure, she hid in a broom storage cupboard under the stairs and stopped breathing.
Now that she hid in the tiny, cramped space, the rapping seemed much less loud. It was soon replaced by a cacophony of rings on the door. She curled up, to be as small as she could, and closed her eyes. The sweetness of cake and cream in the air did nothing to ease the fear that was crushing her lungs every time she tried to breathe.
A sudden ba
ng made her bite through her lip, and she froze, realizing it came from the back door. There was some clattering and loud voices calling out her name. Candy tried to disappear in the darkness, texting Sam in a frenzy.
‘Where are you?’
But it wasn’t time for texting anymore when a loud crack told her they broke the back door. She picked Sam’s number on silent, so it wouldn’t ring. Who knew what Bastian would do when he found her after she told him she wouldn’t be here.
Each creak, thump, and clatter was making her smaller, frightened like a bug under someone’s boot, and when Sam finally picked up, she could hardly speak.
“Babe, sorry. I’ll be on my way, yeah?” he asked.
“No, Sam, you have to come here, right now,” she whispered and wiped the tears off her cheek. She didn’t even know when they appeared. “These guys broke in through my back door. I don’t know what they’ll do. I’m so scared, Sam. Please come quick.”
His breath rasped against her ear. “Gain some time,” he hissed before disconnecting. She was alone again, only a thin door away from a pack of wild dogs ready to rip her to shreds.
“Where’s that bitch?” growled Bastian, and Candy flinched when a line of light appeared underneath the door.
“Must be here. Fucking cake’s unfinished.” There was a metallic clang, followed by a loud thump. And then silence.
“What the fuck is that?” asked Bastian.
Candy heard a rustling and then a rattle of pills. No.
Goldy whistled. “Wow. This is some serious money in these cakes. That bimbo is one lying slut.”
The silence that followed was the last thing Candy wanted to hear. The storm came when the door opened, revealing Bastian and Goldy in the carnage of broken cakes and fallen utensils. Bastian frowned at her.
“Get up, bitch.”
Candy’s knees trembled so hard she could barely follow his order. When she straightened up, Goldy grabbed her arm in a steel grip and pulled her out into the kitchen with a move so hard she thought her arm snapped out of its socket.
“I will have the money soon …” Candy cried, not even struggling, as it would be useless against Goldy.
