by London Casey
I left the shower and wrapped a towel around my body. The smell of coffee filtered through the apartment. If Aton was setting me up to die, he was really playing into it. Normally if Aton wanted someone gone, they’d be gone. He had the connections and the muscle to make it happen.
In my bedroom, one of Aton’s guys was on his knees, his tie over his nose and mouth, cleaning the floor. The other guy had the window open, waving a pillow, trying to get the smell out. I dropped the towel and grabbed some clothes to put on. I ran my hands through my hair a few times and that was it for me. That’s as much as I had ever gotten ready in my life.
Aton stood, waiting for me. He had two mugs of coffee poured.
“Sit,” he said. “Drink.”
“Got any whiskey for the coffee?” I asked with a grin.
“Don’t be a fucking smart ass,” Aton said.
I sat down and sipped the coffee. Aton sat across from me. He folded his hands. He had no intention of drinking his coffee. He just stared at me.
I had known Aton for a long time. I first met him because of Shane. Aton helped Shane get out of some legal troubles, which Shane repaid back by becoming a fighter. Shane showed me how to throw a solid right fist, which I used to take down four guys on the high school football team when I saw them trying to push around some girl. That got my ass booted out of school and Aton was there to bring me into his world. That girl, however, never learned her lesson. She ended up getting attacked and got herself hooked on drugs and she killed herself.
Those were the memories I had in my mind. Not about finding my dream present under the Christmas tree. My memories were two guys holding that girl’s arms while two other guys were touching her, taking her clothes off. My first fight. My first win. I stood there and looked around at the destruction I had caused with my fists.
And you know what?
I fucking loved the feeling.
Aton slid a hand across the table and grabbed my hand. “Wes. Wesley.”
“Don’t call me that,” I said.
Aton grinned. “I had to skip town for personal matters. Went to New York. We had a little rat problem there. At a restaurant. Get it?”
I nodded.
Rat problem meant someone was talking too much or not paying up enough. Whoever it was, they were long gone now.
“Yeah,” I said. “Glad you’re back in town.”
“I’ve been back for days, Wes. You haven’t returned my calls.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“I see that. Listen, I am sorry about that fight. I should have looked at the calendar. But it had to happen.”
“One day a year, Aton. That’s all I ask for.”
“I think a lot of people ask for that,” Aton said. “That’s not how it works.” Aton took his hand back. He reached into his suit jacket and took out a gun. “This is all business, Wes.”
“Just like the night Shane was killed?”
“I’ve lost a lot of people I loved,” Aton said. “It’s just life. At least you’re alive.”
I nodded to the gun and sipped my coffee. Then I said, “For now, right?”
“I’m not going to kill you, Wes. You’re too valuable to me. But I have to teach you a lesson. I have to show you what it’s like out there. What my other guys do. You’re worried about a fight here and there? Let’s talk about taking out real fucking problems.”
I looked at the gun again. “Taking out problems?”
“See, I have something going down tonight. I need a little protection for it. You’re the protection.”
“Me.”
“You, Wes. In case something happens, I need your fists ready to go.”
“Is this a hit?”
Aton grinned.
My stomach flipped again. I stood up and hurried to the kitchen sink and my stomach let loose again. I gasped for air as I held the edge of the sink.
Murder?
“Wes, I don’t know how you view life, but you’re not going to be a fighter for the rest of your life. You’re going to get old. Weak. You’re going to lose. And sometimes when you lose, you really lose.”
I looked at Aton and gritted my teeth.
He was talking about Shane.
I took a few deep breaths and stood back up. I ran my hand through my hair. Right then I told myself I’d never touch a drop of booze again. I knew that was a fucking lie though.
“Would you like to hear what I have in mind for you?” Aton asked.
“No,” I said. “I just want to fight, Aton. I want to be in the middle of the circle. If that’s where I end, then so be it. I’ll go down like Shane.”
Aton nodded and stood up. He left the gun on the table. He slipped his hands into his pockets. “Let me put it to you this way, Wes. Since you’re so fucking cocky right now. Your brother was an asshole. He had no respect for the fights. Near the end, he would drink, smoke, show up high and wanting to go at it. I lost money on him. I didn’t know what to do with him.”
My blood started to boil. “Is this where you tell me you set him up to fight? To die? You let it all happen?”
“No,” Aton said. “That entire thing was out of my control. Nobody is supposed to die like that. I didn’t give the command on any of it. I tried to stop him. I tried to stop it all. He insisted on taking on the assassin, wanting to cement his name forever. I guess he did that because the assassin never fought again. Nobody heard from him again. He just disappeared.”
“Did you kill him?”
Aton smiled. “No.”
Part of me wished Aton would have lied. He could have told me he killed the assassin in Shane’s honor.
“So my brother was an asshole. He drank too much, got high, got killed. I’m following right in those footsteps.”
“No, you’re not. You’re going out on a run with Tommy.”
“Tommy? Who the fuck is Tommy?”
“I’m Tommy.”
The guy who had dry heaved when he smelled my room stood there. His face was a little pale. He adjusted his tie and cleared his throat.
“You?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Got a fucking problem?”
“Hey now,” Aton said. He patted Tommy’s shoulder. “We’re all good here. Tommy has the brains for fire. Bombs. That kind of thing. He can make cars have accidents. Or he can wire them a certain way…”
“Christ,” I whispered.
“So you and him are going out later. I need you to take care of something for me. We have a situation that needs to be…”
“Taken care of,” I said. “I get it.”
“Tommy is going to get everything set up. You need to be the lookout for him. Make sure things go, and stay, smooth.” Aton put both hands to my shoulders. “I’m doing this for you. To show you what else is out there. You can get into that circle anytime you want to make some cash, Wes. You’re a smart and capable fighter. But there’s more you can do for me. For us. For my family. We can never take you in. You stink like an Irishman, and not just because of the vomit and booze.” Aton slapped my face. “Don’t fuck anything up, Wes. I’m trying to make things right.”
“Where’s Danny? I’d love to give him a piece of my mind.”
“Don’t worry about Danny. He’s not involved with this one. It’s you and Tommy. You two go out there for me. I’m asking you, for me. Set this thing up, help out my family, and we’ll go from there. You walked away from a fight that wasn’t called the right way. I’m not sure who to blame on it. I’m getting heat, Wes. A lot of money was spread around and wasted. Purposely breaking a man’s ankle and shattering his knees is one thing… but letting him quit? We don’t quit in fights, Wes.”
Aton nodded and backed away. He retrieved his gun and then pointed to the front door. He and his guys left.
I stood there for a few seconds before I turned and heaved into the kitchen sink again.
I had gone from blowing up my own life to now having to blow up someone else’s.
~
I sat in the
passenger seat, Tommy next to me in all black. No suit for the guy tonight. His eyes were intense as he stared at the little blue car parked next to a garage.
“See, they tried to fucking hide it,” Tommy said. “It was supposed to be in the restaurant parking lot. That would have been much better because it would cause a lot more damage. Sending a bigger message. I swear, there’s rats all around us.”
“Good to know,” I said.
Rats.
That shit came from friends and from trusting people. That’s why I didn’t trust anyone. I had no business trusting anyone. It was better for me to stand and walk alone. To have the appearance of being invincible.
A two hour nap and two hours at the gym-slash-boxing ring gave me all the energy I needed for the night. The old man who ran the gym - Jack - told me that life wasn’t made to be easy, fun, fair, or pretty. Life was meant to make death look enjoyable. Jack believed in heaven, hell, demons, and angels.
I faced all that in the mirror and in the circle where I fought. I didn’t need to believe a thing when I lived it.
“Okay, we’re good now,” Tommy said and opened the car door.
He climbed out and I followed him. I kept my eyes open, watching, not sure what the hell to look for.
Tommy walked across the lot like it was nothing. I figured for a couple of guys about to blow up a car, we should be laying a little low. Moving a little quicker. Trying to blend in with the night.
When we got to the car, Tommy took out a long rod from somewhere. He leaned against the door of the car and stuck the rod between the window and door. With a few wiggles and a grunt, the door popped open.
“Pop the hood,” he said to me. “I’m going to get set up.”
I reached into the car and pulled the lever for the hood.
A smell overtook me – a flowery, fruity smell. I looked around the car, realizing it was a woman’s car. There was no way a guy drove this tiny little thing and smelled like this. The smell was almost familiar. That wasn’t a shock though since there was a good chance women used the same sprays or lotions or whatever.
Tommy opened the hood and went right to work.
I reached across the car and opened the glovebox. I had absolutely no reason to find out who owned the car. It was a terrible idea.
When I opened the glovebox, a picture fell out onto the floor. I stuck my hand into the glovebox and then retreated. I shut the glovebox and shook my head. The less I knew the better. Christ, if this went wrong and I got pulled in for questioning, it was better to know nothing.
I saw the picture on the floor and reached for it. I was going to put it back where it had been. But when I saw the woman in the picture, I froze.
She was fucking stunning.
It was a five-by-seven of a woman in a leather jacket. The jacket was down off her left shoulder. She stood sideways, head turned at the camera, her blonde hair covering half her face. She had blood red lips, big blue eyes, and a beauty about her that caught me off guard. Where the leather jacket opened, she wasn’t wearing anything under it. Not to mention the leather jacket was long enough to go just beyond her ass, leaving the eyes to wonder if she was fully nude under the jacket.
Was this the woman we were going to kill? What the hell did she do to deserve this kind of fate?
My mind then started to play it all out.
This woman climbing into her car. The key going in the ignition. Turning the key to start the car and then…
Boom!
The hood slammed shut and I jumped.
I moved from the car, quickly folding the picture and sticking it in my back pocket.
“Done,” Tommy announced.
I stood and looked at him. “That quick, huh?”
“When you know your shit, it’s easy. Trust me, this car ain’t going anywhere but the junkyard as a charred piece of metal. Probably some skin and bone stuck to the metal frame forever.”
Tommy grinned like a kid who just won a big prize at a carnival. He was sick, but this was his job. He got to muscle people around and murder when Aton and his family needed.
I thought about the picture in my back pocket. That beautiful woman was going to die. She could have been out to dinner or something right now, not thinking about death. Then again, what if she deserved it? If Aton wanted her dead…
“Come on,” Tommy said. “Let’s get out of here. I’d love to sit and watch my work but I can’t risk anything. This one is serious.”
“Who is it?” I asked.
“None of your damn business.”
We got back into the car and drove away.
Tommy dropped me off at my place and I raced inside. I took the picture out of my pocket and tossed it to the table. I went to the fridge and opened a beer. It tasted like shit. I opened the picture and looked at it again. She was goddamn beautiful. Seductive in her pose. I turned the picture around and there was an address on the back. Handwritten with the name Rose on it.
There was nothing I could do about this. I couldn’t stop it from happening. If I tried, Aton would have me killed in a second. Plus, if he wanted someone gone, they were gone. There was no stopping it. Especially if the call came from above. Higher up in his family. Deeper connections that nobody really wanted to know the truth of.
I drank the shitty beer and walked to my bedroom with the picture of Rose.
I crashed to the bed and tossed the picture to the nightstand.
“Sorry, Rose,” I whispered.
I then felt guilty and had no damn reason to. For all I knew this woman was a murderer. Christ, maybe she had been involved with Shane’s death. Whatever she did, she deserved to die, blown up when she started her car.
I shut my eyes, leaving half a beer behind. I demanded sleep, but my mind thought about Rose. The smell of her car. That smell…
My eyes shot open and I sat up.
Christ…
That’s where I knew the smell.
Rose was the woman standing behind me before the fight with Johnny. She was the one I told to go away.
What the hell was a woman that beautiful doing at a fight?
I turned on the lamp next to my bed and grabbed the picture again. I ran my hand through my hair and shook my head.
I couldn’t stop it from happening… but I could check on things tomorrow. Maybe she was smart enough to somehow survive.
5.
(Rose)
“Someone tried to kill you last night.”
I swallowed hard, pulling the blanket tighter around my body. I sat across from Luke. He looked half drunk or high or something. He had dried blood under his nose and at the corner of his mouth, but I didn’t dare ask about that.
“Why?” I whispered.
“I think we know why,” he said. “Do you want to go down that road again?”
I lowered my head. “No, Luke, I don’t.”
“I got word about it and I stopped it from happening. Well, your car is gone, but you’re not.”
“My car?”
“It was wired to blow up,” Luke said. “Don’t worry though. You weren’t the one inside when it went up.”
“Who was then?”
Luke half smiled. “Let’s just say Marco served out his purpose…”
My stomach felt sick. Luke had sent poor Marco to my car to blow up. He knew it was going to happen and he let it happen. That’s why Luke was evil. That’s why Luke was a murderer.
I had to get away from him. From this life. From everything I knew.
But how? Where would I go? Any little mess up and Luke could pull the trigger. Not just literally with his gun and kill me, but he could come after me in another way. For something I didn’t do… that I was blamed for.
“So what do I do now?” I asked.
“First off, everything is cancelled for you. You’re gone. You need to act like you don’t exist.”
“So I’m stuck in this apartment?”
“Exactly. You don’t leave. You don’t do a damn thing. You need food,
call someone. You need a drink, drink water. Got it?”
I nodded. “For how long?”
“Until I fucking tell you,” Luke yelled. “I have to go, Rose. I can’t babysit you anymore. You disgust me sometimes. Everything built in this family and you fucking ruin it.”
“What did I do?” I asked.
Luke slammed his fist on the table and jumped up, sending the chair flying. He pointed right at me. “You fucking killed him. He was heartbroken after Ma died. You were supposed to take over. But you never did. I had to carry his ass. I had to carry your ass. And you killed him. You broke his fucking heart.”
“He drank himself…”
Luke opened his suit jacket and showed me his gun. That was my cue to shut the hell up. “Don’t,” he growled. “Don’t you ever. Someday… you’re going to get it for real, Rose. And I won’t be there to help you.”
With that in the open, Luke left the small apartment.
I was trapped again.
I changed my clothes, living out of another suitcase. That was how I had lived since a kid. Some girls had closets. Some women had bigger closets. Me? I had a dozen suitcases. All packed with enough outfits to last a week or two, with all the feminine stuff I’d need to get by.
After I zipped the suitcase, I started to pace the bedroom.
It was fight or flight time in my heart, but what could I do? I had no car, obviously. It had been blown up.
Blown up?
Who would blow up my car? Who would want me dead like that?
My mind raced. I started to feel jittery.
I needed a drink.
I rushed to the kitchen and started opening and closing the cabinets. I even resorted to the silverware drawer, wondering if there was a small bottle hidden. The only thing I found was a pack of cigarettes. I had no idea how old they were. I hadn’t smoked in a long time. The only reason I ever did was to look cool in front of people, like an idiot. But the cigarettes looked good.
I licked my lips and grabbed them.
When I left the apartment and went down the back emergency stairs, I knew I was defying Luke. All I wanted was one smoke. Maybe two. I’d probably end up with a headache and stomachache but at least that would give me something else to focus on for a little while.
