Colour My Ugly

by A. Giannoccaro

  I reach for him feeling I should, help him, I should give him what he gave me. His hand stops me again. “You don’t have to Lauri, let’s just enjoy this. Us. Just let me hold you.” So I do, relieved because I am not sure I could do what he just did to me. I let him hold me and we sleep.

  Late. We sleep very late. I wake with a start, sucking in short breaths and I realize I am alone in bed. My heart sinks. He is working. He is out there extinguishing another life, erasing a person, being the monster and not the lover who fell asleep next to me.

  ROWAN

  “I loved her not for the way she danced with my angels but for the way the sound of her name could silence my demons.”

  ~Christopher Poindexter

  Holy fuck. Holy fucking fuck. I woke up in the middle of the night with Lauri’s soft, sexy as all hell lips wrapped around my cock and her hand stroking me. I nearly fucking came right there. I thought I was dreaming it was better than a dream, way better. She wanted me; she wanted me to touch her, she gave herself over to me. I had my mouth on every inch of her beautiful coloured skin, kissing the flowers that adorn those soft full breasts. I wanted to taste her, but I could sense her unease, she wasn’t ready for that. But I can’t get the smell of her out of my mind, I breathed her in and it has filled me.

  She let me touch her; she let me make her come. Her body responded to my fingers and all it took was a few soft stokes and she was a shaking writhing goddess in my arms. Her orgasm was so intense she took a while to come back to me. The way her skin felt warm but was covered in goose bumps, the way her chest heaved with every strained breath and god the way she arched her small frame into me wanting to be closer, wanting more. She is fucking amazing and she is mine, all mine I get to give that to her. After she confessed that it was her first orgasm, I was silently fist pumping that I had given her that and not her devil husband. She wanted to return the favour and tried to touch me again, but I wanted to give without taking from her. I want her to feel infinite pleasures and not feel she has to give them to me. I will admit that our shower last night was fucking amazing and that I have a serious case of blue balls this morning after her sweet little mouth attacked me in my sleep. I hate leaving her in bed, but I have a job to do today.

  It’s time to put my heart away and go to work.

  Today’s job is not a nice easy pretty accident. My client was very specific in that she wanted the victim to suffer. His death was to be slow and painfully with a knife. Finally one who didn’t tell me why they wanted the person killed, just how this time. Usually I get he must die because blahblahblah, not he must die exactly like this.

  I go get dressed in my room that feels like a different world to me now that I share a room with Lauri and I collect my work things from my office. As usual I tuck my gun in my belt the cold metal feels good against my skin and I pull my shirt over it before I leave the house. This will be my last job for the next two weeks; I am taking a self-imposed holiday to help Lauri open the restaurant.

  I drive out of the estate and towards the city in the early light of the dawn and by the time I reach Cape Town table mountain comes into my view and it’s cloud covered top reminds me that the winter is almost here, there will be no sunshine today and the overcast skies tell of soft rain and cold wind all day. The grey waves in the bay look angry and rough, morning mist clings to my windshield and I turn my wipers on. I drive all the way around the bay and keep moving away from the city bustle and up the coast. My unsuspecting victim lives in a fancy golf estate in Melkbosstrand, I already have the security codes to enter both the estate and his home. My instruction is to kill him, slowly, and leave him in his bed and burn his house down. I know that he lives alone and isn’t expecting any company today, I have been watching him carefully for a while now, and he is a very careless man.

  As I enter the pretentious golf estate where the rich house wives of the Cape all live my blood turns cold. I hate these neighbourhoods, where everyone wants to be the Jones not just keep up with them. The rows of identical looking mansions make me ill mirror images of one another. No fucking imaginations in places like this, just conform, conform, and conform. It’s all very Stepford Wives with no room for any person who may actually be an individual. Lauri and I would stick out like weeds in a flower garden here with our tattooed skin and my unconventional business.

  I open the garage of the house I am about to ruin forever and park my car in the empty spot before I close it again. He seems to have no close neighbours and until someone reaches the sixteenth hole we should be alone and with today’s shitty weather I doubt there will many golfers about. I grab my bag and disarm the alarm with the supplied codes; the garage is cold and smells of coastal damp. The interior of the house clashes completely with the perfect outside, the place is untidy and messy. This guy is a serious bachelor. The mismatched furnishings and general cluttered mess screams I need a chick, or a fucking maid. Well one chick wants you dead my friend, maybe your mess drove her to want to kill you. I follow the instructions I have memorized to find his room at the end of the passage. His curtains are open and his room overlooks a stunning blue swimming pool. He is asleep in his dirty clothes and the tequila bottle next to my bed says he won’t wake easily. He wears a wedding ring but there is no wife here. Maybe she was my boss today? I have to step over dirty laundry and shoes to get into the middle of the room.

  I close the curtains making the room dark and gloomy, there is no sunshine today and the room is now gloomy. I poke him to see how responsive he is, nothing. Tequila is not my drink of choice for this exact reason; it turns people into comatose rag dolls. I remove the duct tape from my bag and bind his wrists and ankles together so tightly I can see the tape biting into his skin. I cover his mouth next. Leaving him bound, I go find the kitchen and remove a pitcher of ice water out of the fridge door. It’s time to wakey wakey. I return to the bedroom and pour the icy liquid over his head; the water sloshes over him and wets his dirty bed sheets. He jolts awake but cannot move. His eyes are wide with alarm when he sees me standing over him. He is screeching behind the duct tape I leave him to get over his little tantrum and simply sit in the chair I have pulled next to the bed. Once he calms his tits, I move him into a sitting position. “You will not scream, if you do I will shoot you in the balls.” I emphasize by pushing my gun in his crotch. He nods frantically and I rip the tape from his mouth. He draws in a few frantic deep breaths trying to fill his lungs, before he looks at me with pleading eyes. “She really sent someone to kill me. That bitch.” He manages to breathe the words out, shaking his head, he reeks of booze and morning after sweat and I am repulsed by his close proximity to me. I smile at his realization of his impending death. “You married her bud.” I reply to him my smile growing wider as his expression changes to acceptance. “Not my wife, she is already dead. My fucking bitch daughter.” Oh now this is actually getting good who knew I was in real life little soap opera. “Oh daddy what did you do?” I mock him by even asking. “Her best friend.” He replies shaking his head. You daddy dearest are a stupid fuck. But I am being paid to do a job so I actually don’t care. “You broke her friend’s heart didn’t you?” He nods; defeated and ready to just die he knows there is no way he gets to live. “She loves her friend more than you I’m afraid.” I am pacing around the room watching him squirm and pull at his bound limbs, he cannot get free, he cannot fight and they always want to fight. The instinct to fight to stay alive is in every single one of us.

  I crawl behind him on the bed and I slowly slit his throat his blood pouring down his dirty shirt front thick and sticky. He will feel every inch of the blade before he bleeds out in the bed where he more than likely fucked his daughter’s friend. I kill a lot of men because of their need to think with their dicks. I am covered in his blood when I get off the bed and I strip down and change into my spare clothes from my bag before I pack my things and leave. His lifeless body slumped on the bloodied bed his dead eyes are on me I won�
�t close them I will leave him exactly as he is. My second instruction was to set the house alight and let it burn. I charge a lot extra for that service, but this lady wanted the house reduced to ashes. I turn the gas stove in the kitchen on and empty a Jerry can of petrol all over the kitchen and out the pool area door before I light it with a match and walk around to my car. Job done and all before lunch time. I close the garage doors as I see the flames licking the walls down the hallway towards me. I am out of the pretentious neighbourhood before anyone will see the flames.

  I turn my music up and decide to pay Callum a quick visit he has been too quiet which means he is up to something or in trouble. I wait for it to come as it always does the satisfaction. But it doesn’t find me today somehow it eludes me and I don’t feel right. Today’s job sits heavy on me and I cannot find the satisfaction and thrill that normally follow after a killing like this. I feel, which is the first issue but I am not sure what I feel. Something has broken in me, I feel sorry not for killing him but that my killing him may upset Lauri. I have lost my shit completely.

  I drive to Callum’s apartment building on the beach front in Tableview and park on the street there are people walking by with their children and dogs. As with every day the bay is littered with kite surfers, their bags and wet suits and half-dressed bodies litter the beach. In the distance I can see the tourist ferry’s on route to Robin Island the famous or not so famous prison island that housed Nelson Mandela for many years. I personally don’t see the attraction in the tourist attraction but they run nonstop all day every day. Maybe it’s because I am a criminal that walking around a prison is not my idea of fun.

  I have a key to Callum’s apartment so even if he isn’t here I will hang out and wait, his office is at home so unless he is out schmoozing customers or suppliers he will be here. I let myself in and instantly regret the decision to do so as I am met with a full view of Callum’s pale ass as he ploughs into some poor moaning girl on his couch. Her long legs are draped over his shoulders and I can hear her overzealous shrieks and moans. Not the first or the last time I will interrupt Callum and a woman, I cough getting his attention and hand signal that I will wait in the kitchen. He just smiles and carries on as if I was never there. That’s typical Callum. I help myself to his overpriced scotch before I take a seat at the bar counter that overlooks the bay. I can still hear the antics in the next room. Usually such a sexual interlude would have been right up my alley but all I can think of right now is Lauri and the way she had those sweet lips around me this morning. The way she came under my hands her sounds fill my mind drowning out the wild mewls and growls from the lounge. Ugh Callum is a real pig with women, I hear him dismiss her as soon as he was done like she was dirt. That was his style and until Lauri came along and gave me this fucking heart in my chest, it had been mine too. I feel a little pang of guilt thinking of the way I used women right next to her all that time.

  When he saunters into the kitchen he is still adjusting his suit pants. “Thanks for the call to say I’m coming over. Sorry you got a show man,” he says sarcastically greeting me with a man hug of sorts. “I was working and just stopped by after to see why you so quiet usually it’s a sign of trouble for you.” I reply bluntly wanting to know what’s going on with him. His last little secret had left a void in the trust we had between us.

  “Pop has me working on some not so legitimate business deals and I have had to schmooze the shit out of some UAE sheiks and their entourage. Sorry Ro, it’s just been a little busy. How are you? How is Lauri?” I smile at his mention of her name, like some love sick fool. He notices and shakes his head at me. Neither of us ever thought we would see the day that I felt anything for anyone at all.

  “The restaurant opens on Saturday; I hope to God we will be seeing you at the opening?” I ask the question knowing how flaky my friend can be and how gutted Lauri will be if he is a no show, he is her only family and she actually likes him.

  “I will be there, with bells on I swear. I know how much this means to her.” He sounds sincere so I leave it alone and we sit and enjoy our scotch and discuss his business and my two week holiday while watching the kites dancing in the sky above the bay. I plan to stop at Robin on my way home still so I don’t want stay too long with Callum and say goodbye after my pre-lunch scotch is finished. I leave him feeling that there is something going on that he isn’t telling me yet and I am very worried for my friend he is into some bad shit all of a sudden and I can tell he is taking strain. His face looks a little older, tired and the stress is showing.

  For some reason I just want to hurry home. I know why my job didn’t satisfy me today, I know that the only thing that could now is the woman I left in bed this morning. What is happening to me? For the first time ever I have something other than my job to care about. I am scared shit-less at what that means for me. She has silenced a small part of the demon that existed in me and it scares me.

  LAURI

  “Never could I breathe love if I did not first learn to inhale a little bit of chaos.”

  ~Christopher Poindexter

  I know Rowan will come home this evening with a blazing new number etched in the skin of his fucking beautiful bad heart. I know that I cannot change that, worst of all I know I don’t want to. But I still feel like I should. I should want him not to kill people. I have had a strange realization in the last few hours. If my father had just shared his world with me, taught me his trade, like he did Rowan, I would never have endured the last eight years of hell. I would be bad I would be able to just be that and it would be alright, I would not be fighting an inner battle between good and bad. He tried to save me by keeping me good, but he let me be something so much worse than being a monster. He made me weak and ignorant and soft. He made me too good to see the bad in other until it was too late.

  I am done being weak. I am done just existing. I am done being afraid. Last night just proved to me that I can face all my fears and overcome them. I want everything Rowan has to give me the good and the bad.

  My restaurant is opening in exactly five days I am over the moon happy with how it has turned out and the Estate has been marketing it like crazy we are already booked to capacity for Saturday and Sunday lunch. Rowan has promised me the next two weeks, no work just us and the restaurant. The thought of it has me giddy with anticipation of the extra time we will have together.

  I don’t have much left to do before the big opening other than the food deliveries that will be on Thursday and Friday so I am doing the housework today. I still haven’t let Rowan get a new maid, I find it rather satisfying to take care of things myself, but maybe with the restaurant I might need help a few days a week.

  I start to cook us dinner while I wait for Rowan to come home, the afternoons are long when he is not here and I turn on the iPod and lose myself for a while I test a new recipe I have been working on. Rowan is my taste tester. Although he just says he likes everything. His cooking is so bad that I am sure I could serve him beans on toast and he would love it.

  When he wanders in in from the garage my heart skips a beat, he has removed his shirt and I can see the red edges of a fresh number on his chest. I can see in his eyes that he feels like he lets me down every time there is new one. I feel guilty for lusting after him a little more when I know he has just murdered someone. I have told him that it doesn’t upset me, but he is fighting his own battle learning to love me has him conflicted and uneasy. He walks into the kitchen and pulls me into his naked chest; I can smell his tell-tale scent mixed with scotch. He has been to Callum; I lean up and kiss his lips, making him pull me even closer tangling his hands in my messy hair and devouring me with a kiss that tells me without words that he missed me today. My hands rake over his solid chest and I feel the dusting of hair as I continue to feel every bit of him pressed against me. I love the feeling of being lost in his closeness. I touch his heart and he flinches and lets out a hiss as I graze over the raw new number.


  When he breaks our kiss his face is lit by that cocky smile pulling at his lips and he greets me with his blue eyes. “Hello sweetheart the food smells amazing. I haven’t eaten today and I cannot wait.” He tries to see what’s in the oven but I shoo him away before he opens it and ruins the food. “You will just have to wait a little. It’s not done yet.” He smiles and strolls off to shower grabbing my ass in his big hand on the way past. Last night a barrier had broken between us and I had let him in all the way. It feels so good; I blush at the memory of what his hands did to me. I never ever in my wildest dreams thought I would experience a feeling like that. It was overpowering and intimate and my holy hell it was so good. I understood the way his eyes had rolled back in the shower when I touched him because I am pretty sure mine did the same thing before the fireworks went off and my whole body shook with the rawest feeling I have felt.

  My brain turns to mush whenever Rowan enters my thoughts. I do love him, all of him, even if he doesn’t want me to or expect me to, I do. I don’t understand it but he wouldn’t be him without being a killer and I love him.

  When Rowan wondered back into the kitchen in only his raggedy jeans zipped but not buttoned, I had a hard time concentrating to finish putting the dinner on plates. The smell of his freshly washed body was over powering the smell of my hearty meal and I could feel myself getting lost to the flaming fucking butterflies again. I squeeze my thighs together hoping to stop their inferno but I cannot get rid of them when those blue eyes are disrobing me from across the table. We eat dinner outside like every night it has become our little routine over the last while, only tonight it feels awkward and all I can think of is him and his body and those hands on me. I keep staring at his chest and he keeps catching me making blush and squirm in my seat. I can tell he is enjoying it by the smile that can’t be wiped off his face. We make small talk about his visit to Callum and that he is worried about him. He tells me that Robin misses me and has so much time now that I’m done being coloured in. We chat about the staff I have hired for the opening and hopefully full time at the café.