“Nothing,” she stated with a look that portrayed phony innocence.
“Right. What did you do?” His eyes were boring into hers.
“I didn’t rat you out, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she stated quietly.
“I wasn’t thinking that. He looked like he saw a ghost or something. What did you do?”
“Nothing! I mean, I might have told him…some stuff, gave him a little advice. I think he was shocked that I told him I knew he was gay…but come on! The dude wears eyeliner and you know…lip gloss and…man, am I hungry. You hungry? I could eat. Can we eat? Let’s eat.”
“Did you seriously out him?”
“Yeah, that was it. No biggie. Did you hear that? That was my stomach saying ‘hi’. Can we please eat?” She shifted her weight uncomfortably and scrunched her face into a slight grimace before relaxing her features.
His breath caught. The sunlight bounced and shone off her shining sable hair, her face was…perfection. She was stunning.
“You’re staring,” she stated lightly.
“I’m not staring. You have a clump of mascara on your lashes,” he lied with a casual shrug.
“I do? Hmm…”
She immediately lifted her finger and blinked a few times, running her lashes over her finger tip.
“Did I get it?”
“Yep, come on.” He grasped her arm and wandered toward the car, intent on not looking directly at her lest he start drooling like a jackass…
*****
“I don’t know what any of this crap is,” she stated as she flipped the menu upside down and back again.
“I’ll order for you. We’ll get some naan and tabbouleh to start. Maybe we can split a beef shawarma -”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about and I would prefer a coney dog, do they have coney dogs?” She perused the menu to no avail. Middle Eastern food was a new experience and wasn’t looking too promising.
He let out a rather loud sigh causing her eyes to meet his over the table.
“I don’t get it. You’re just going to waste me anyway, why do you care if I eat healthy?” she stated rather matter-of-factly.
“Keep your voice down, are you nuts?” he whispered loudly as he leaned in.
“It’s true, isn’t it?” she whispered.
He sat back and regarded her closely.
“Look. Last night I asked you point blank if you were going to kill me and you didn’t answer. I take that as a ‘yes’ and I’m Ok with that.”
After a few moments of silence, he finally leaned in and arched a brow at her.
“I know what you’re doing. You’re playing some kind of reverse psychology on me and it isn’t going to work.”
“I’m not playing anything. What I’m telling you is that you have my permission to kill me, I just have some…preferences.”
“You are crazy,” he breathed out as if that was some sort of amazing revelation.
“Damn straight, buddy.” She concentrated on her menu. “Can we try a chicken kebab instead of that beef shamama crap? I think I know what a chicken kebab is…”
Chapter 3
“So, where are we headed?”
“Pawn Shop, Livernois.”
“Ooooh noooo…not that place. That guy haaates me. Any other place but there. Wait, no…there’s a couple of other places -”
“So, let’s talk about your death wish.” He ignored her verbal musings as he concentrated on merging with I-94 traffic.
“Sure. I want to talk about that too. We should get some things out in the open. I’m good with that.” She angled her body toward his on the leather seat.
“When we were in your apartment, were you trying to kill yourself? You know, with the aspirin and booze?”
“Yep.”
“You do realize that you probably would have barfed and passed out instead of died, right?”
“I don’t know. I’m kind of new to the whole suicide thing. I apparently suck at it. That’s where you come in.”
“I can’t believe I’m having this conversation.” If she could see his eyes behind his dark aviators, she could practically guarantee he was rolling them.
“Yeah, right? I can’t believe I’m actually asking you to help me waste my worthless ass, but I am. And I’m not afraid. I want to do it. I’ve wanted to do it for a while now but I can’t. I mean, I don’t like pain. And the thought of causing myself pain? Totally grosses me out. Can you kill someone, like say…I don’t know…gentle? And maybe you know, you do it…and I don’t even know its’ coming? Like a surprise? But not a scary surprise, more like a quiet surprise?
“I don’t -” he started before she droned on.
“And no drowning or stabbing, what about shooting? Maybe…no, no, because what if you missed? And I lived? And then someone has to take care of me for the rest of my life because I can’t function? No. No shooting…and no poisoning. I wouldn’t want to be poisoned. I would think that it would be excruciating at least up until the point where you finally kick it. Strangling is out, I would freak out. And no smothering, smothering would cause me to struggle, do they struggle? Wait, do you smother people?”
“I -”
“No smothering, and no throwing me off a building or… oh god, no hanging. I would be so nervous! It has to be a surprise. If I don’t know it’s coming, I might be Ok. Do you think you can do that? Wait, why did we get off the freeway? Where are we going? I thought we were going to Livernois?”
She watched as he pulled from the service drive down a residential street, ending near an abandoned building.
“Oh my god, are you going to do it NOW? I thought you wanted to find Rick? All right, I’m freaking out…” Adrenalin coursed through her body, causing it to move as far away as possible.
He swung the large town car into the abandoned parking lot causing her to grab on and hold the ‘oh shit’ bar above the door for dear life before he slammed the brakes and turned toward her.
“Get out of the car.”
“What?”
“Get out of the fucking car. NOW.” She watched a muscle in his jaw tick.
“Wait, why are you letting me go? Are you letting me go?”
“JANE, YOU CRAZY DOOFUS GETYOURASSOUTOFMYCAR!!” he roared causing her to practically jump in the seat before frantically grabbing at the door handle and pulling it toward her.
She stumbled out, not bothering to close the door and immediately righted herself before backing away, hands up in front of her chest. He stepped from the driver’s side and immediately popped the trunk with his key fob.
“Ok, Ok…so you’re pissed -”
“Get in the trunk.” He stated with deathly calm as he walked around the car and indicated it with a jerk of his head.
“What? No way. Besides, there’s no room -”
“I said…get in the trunk.”
“And I said no.” She continued to back away as he pulled something from inside his jacket. This is it. Stand still, close your eyes; it’ll be over in a second.
Oh, hell no.
Her body began to turn instinctively before his words halted her.
“I will catch you. Don’t even think about it. See this?” He pulled out…not a gun, but the taser.
“Don’t make me zap you, Jane. Get in the trunk.”
“I refuse to get in the trunk. If this conversation upsets you, we won’t talk about it, but I am not getting in that damn trunk!”
*****
As far as trunks go, this one was rather spacious. Even with six bags of assorted clothing and footwear, she still had enough room to roll, smashing into the front and rear of the confined space as Pete drove like a maniac through the Greater Metropolitan Detroit area. Apparently his driving reflected his mood and to say his mood had taken a turn for the worse was an understatement.
He never did zap her, didn’t need to. Tasing typically led to loss of bodily functions, or at least that’s what she had read somewhere, and the thought of losing her bo
wels or pissing herself in her new half-a-month’s-rent-jeans was not palatable in the least. So, she lay in complete darkness, bouncing, rolling, thumping, bags crunching…until, nothing.
He stopped the car abruptly causing her to roll toward the front and settle on her back. It still hurt, but at least it was now more of a dull ache than a sharp stab.
Bright sunlight blinded her temporarily as the trunk lid opened suddenly, his face impossible to read as her eyes struggled to catch up with the rapid change.
“Come on.”
She blinked several times and made out a hand extended toward her. She immediately slapped it away.
“I hate you,” she muttered as she lifted her body to a seated position and looked beyond him. They were parked behind a crumbling brick building, it could be anywhere in the city – there were so many of them…
“Just get out. Don’t talk. Please don’t talk,” he amended before grasping under her arm and lifting her out. “I don’t usually get like that, but I swear you can drive a man crazy…” he breathed out as his hand automatically lifted and smoothed her mussed hair before he pulled it back as if it was burnt.
“Yeah, well…I don’t usually talk about my own impending doom. I get a little nervous, you know? You would too. Or maybe you wouldn’t, I don’t know,” she stated quietly. His glasses were off and his eyes were softened for some reason.
“We’ll just drop it for now. Just get in car. Don’t say anything,” he added quickly when her mouth opened then slammed shut.
*****
“All right, you go in and I’ll follow. We’re not together. If he asks you why you’re looking for him, make something up – obviously.”
“Like what?”
“Tell him…I don’t know. You’re clever, just lie…you know how to lie, Sally.” She could make out the sarcasm; didn’t even need to look at his facial expression.
She looked at the front of the small building instead, two other shops were attached; both were abandoned and boarded up. A quick scan around netted no other cars in the small parking lot.
This was a rough section of town, well rougher. Most of the city had fallen into disrepair decades ago and this building was typical, although unfortunate.
“I don’t think he’s going to tell me anything,” she muttered before biting her lip and studying the faded sign above the front door.
She had delivered here two times in the space of a month. Two boxes of paper, a case of toner, and a miscellaneous box with what she assumed were pens and other office incidentals. Both times she delivered; the shop was empty. That was weird – why would he go through that much paper? Of course, according to Pete, the office supplies were just a front. It was entirely possible and not in the least comforting to know or to suspect that she may very well have inadvertently delivered drugs to these places…
“Any day. You in a trance or something? Yo…” he was snapping his fingers in front of her face.
“Sorry,” She immediately moved to open the car door and stepped out, her feet carrying her cautiously to the front door.
The bell sounded with a loud ‘ding’ as she opened it, her head poking in and looking in all directions before stepping in. It was empty save for a glass counter that ran around three sides of the small space and racks of assorted goods in the middle of the grubby store.
“UGH.”
A grunt and was that…? What was that sound?
“Hello?” She called out guardedly.
“Yeah…ahhh, oh…hold on!” came a somewhat harried and almost breathless replay from a back room behind the left side of the store.
“Ok!” She stood stock still, a muffled ‘Mmmm’ could be heard and immediately her face scrunched up as her eyes continued to scan the perimeter of the store.
A short, balding, middle aged man walked around the corner moments later, wiping his hand down the side of his pants before the bell sounded and almost caused her to jolt. She fought the urge to swivel her head toward the sound as recognition lit the much smaller man’s eyes as soon as he saw her.
“Not you. Uh, uh.”
“Hey! Ahh…how’s it going?” she asked in as cheerful a tone as she could muster.
“What do you want? I don’t…am I getting a delivery? I don’t…unless you’re here to buy something. You buying something?”
“Ahhh, no…”
“Then get the hell out of my store.”
His eyes registered something beyond her right shoulder. She averted hers before they could attach and hold on to them. “Hey! Can I help you?” he yelled out to what she assumed was Pete.
“Help the lady first, I can wait,” he answered back casually.
“She’s leaving,” he answered back.
“No. Not yet. I ahh…” Her feet carried her to the counter, her eyes carefully focusing on his nose, his scraggly whisker laden chin, anything other than his eyes.
“I’m looking for Rick, have you seen him?” she asked quietly.
“Rick? You work for him, why are you asking me? I have a paying customer, now go away.”
“I just need to find him. I need to tell him…something,” she stated quietly, her eyes focusing on the blackheads covering his rather bulbous nose.
“What…you knocked up or something? Poor Rick.” He gave a menacing little chuckle to himself.
“Umm…yeah?”
“Pffft! Like I’d tell you where he was. Holy shit, I was just kidding! Even if I knew where he was, I wouldn’t tell you. You of all people…sheesh. What the fuck? Do I have a booger in my nose?” He was swatting at his nostrils.
“I just need to find him. I’m…ahh… worried about him -”
“I’m worried about him too. If I had a loon like you looking for me, I’d be worried. Seriously, do I have something in my nose?”
Her eyes snapped to his and immediately she backed away.
“Ohhh. You’re gross,” she blurted.
“What?”
“Nothing. Eww.” His face was contorted in front of her, the trembling increased as her vision seemed to tunnel and an image of his hand pumping up and down on a rather unimpressive looking penis filled her sights. He was biting his lip…it was only moments before…
“OH! You have to stop that. You can’t just…Oh, that’s nasty…”
“Shut up, go away or I’ll call the cops,” he stated in a venomous tone before his attention switched to the body in her peripheral vision. His hand reached out to shake Pete’s.
“I’m Leo, what can I help you find today?”
“NO! Don’t shake his hand…don’t…AGH!”
“Ignore her,” he stated to Pete before quietly adding, “Why are you so crazy?” He was clearly speaking to her but focused on Pete with his hand still outstretched.
“Don’t, ewww…” Too late. Pete was shaking his hand. The hand.
“Could you excuse me for a second? I need to remove this weirdo from my store,” he stated as he pulled his hand away and started making his way around the corner.
“That’s Ok, no don’t touch me,” she backed away toward the door as he resolutely walked toward her.
“Don’t come back here. Do you hear me, Psycho?”
“No problem…Spanky.” Her hand immediately shot up and clamped over her mouth as her other hand felt for the pull handle on the door. His expression was blank then red began to creep up his neck and into his cheeks as she continued to feel behind her. Hard to tell if he was embarrassed or angry, maybe both. She wouldn’t be around long enough to find out as her hand grasped the handle and shoved the door open behind her.
She shot a glance to Pete before focusing on Leo, who, it appeared, was going to follow her out of the store.
“I’m serious, do not come back here.”
“Can’t you do that shit at home? Or at least…agh, wash your hands! What’s the matter with you?” She stated before turning and walking toward, well…nothing really. This would pretty much be a repeat of the last time she was in his store. Damn
mouth…
Her feet kept moving over the cracked concrete of the sidewalk, her focus straight ahead as it appeared he was getting in the last word, whatever it was. By that time, her vision was focused and clear; her eyes taking in the weed laden fields that pretty much covered lots where houses once stood.
She mentally chastised herself as she continued walking. If she could just control it, it wouldn’t be so bad. Unfortunately, it controlled her and it would always be that way.
The sound of a car engine broke into her mental musings as she saw the front end of the large black sedan enter her vision. Great. How to explain this. Maybe she should just make an immediate right and start walking through the fields. It wasn’t time to try and explain it. He would never believe it because she couldn’t prove it. Looking at him, staring into his eyes netted nothing. Nothing she could grasp on to and that was odd. He was a paid killer though, which could only mean one thing: He felt absolutely no remorse for his deeds which put him in the category of the truly bad.
“Jane? Get in the car,” he commanded through the open window as he drove next to her. She kept walking.
“Jane, dammit. Get in the car or I will get out and put you in the car.”
She stopped, sighed loudly and hung her head for a second before taking a deep breath and turning toward him.
Walking over, she crouched down slightly to regard him through the opened passenger side window.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She stated as a warning.
“I don’t give a shit. Get in the car.” Great. Obviously he was in a good mood now. Hey! At least he wasn’t stuffing her in the trunk.
Opening the heavy door, she sat inside, careful not to look at him. She demurely settled her hands on her lap after fastening her seatbelt.
“What the hell was that?” The car wasn’t moving. She refused to cast a glance his way.
“Was that a demonstration of your social skills?”
No answer.
“What was the whole ‘don’t shake his hand’ thing about?”
Her eyes widened substantially. “We need to go to a gas station or a store…anything with a restroom. You need to wash your hands. Like now,” she emphasized and shot a sideways glance.
This Guy Kills Me Page 8
