by Jack Ellison
I stepped forward and pistol whipped him savagely on the side of his head as he tried to grab the baggie from his junkie friend. He crumpled to the floor, holding his temple.
“He told you not to move, idiot! Do you want to fucking die, man?” the helpful junkie said, frowning at his friend.
“Listen to your buddy,” I said menacingly, as I took the baggie of meth. I glanced at it briefly. It had the same hue as Danny’s biker meth he’d brought me. And was plenty enough to get a quality sample or two from.
“Now, I need some info. I’m looking for some old associates of mine. Guys who can help me out. It’s very fucking important you tell me the truth now.” I lowered my voice to a gruff monotone, lowering my gun slightly as I pocketed the meth.
“Any of you heard of Freddie Biggs? John “Goldie” O’Hanlan? Or “Shaky” Joe Nelson?” I studied them in turn as I listed the names of my previous police informers. Ones I knew had at least a small chance of being alive, and in town.
The helpful guy was nodding, smiling feverishly. His hand went into the air again.
“Yeah, man. I used to get high with Shaky, a while back now. Last I heard he was shot by some gang who wanted his corner.” He frowned, thoughtfully.
“Ain’t heard of Freddie Biggs for years, since the O’Neills got taken down. But John, yeah John with the gold teeth, right? He’s still about. Rolling with the new gang in town, so I hear. Selling dope for them over on the east side. It’s good shit, man. Used to get it from him couple weeks ago. But you can get it on most corners now.” He was looking at me, his glazed eyes gaining focus as the meth wore off gradually.
“Good. Now, listen. I was never here. I hear so much of a peep one of you has been jawing about my visit, I’ll be back. With backup, and five fucking sets of handcuffs. Got it?” They were all nodding.
I pointed the gun at them in turn as I backed out of the room. “Now, get high. And forget I was ever here. Do that, and stay out of fucking trouble, and I’ll never have to bother coming ‘round here again.”
I turned quickly as I left the living room, taking the corridor in two long strides as I jogged back to the car.
I’d already memorised three of the guy’s faces, their features etched into my memory. I took a mental note of where they lived as I headed back to the car.
I wasn’t fucking around when I said I would be back if I heard even a fucking whisper about my visit. I had learnt already that idle threats were soon ignored if you didn’t deliver on your promises.
Now, time to pay my old friend Goldie a visit.
Abi
IT WAS THE DAY AFTER Mickey’s unannounced visit and I’d just finished my shift at the diner. The other waitresses had pressed me pretty hard yesterday about what was up, as I’d still been pretty shaken up when I started work. But I didn’t want to go over what had happened again, held my head up and got on with my day.
By the end of the shift I was feeling much better, and by the time I’d finished working at the bar I back to my usual bubbly, confident self. The four drinks I’d been bought had helped a little, I figured.
I was due to work again at the bar for the next few nights, and was grateful for the distraction. Plus, the tips had been great last night when I’d been covering for the girl who was sick. I guess the Wednesday night drinkers had enjoyed the change of scenery.
I stopped into a little grocery store to get some things I needed back home, mentally listing the boring items as I walked down the aisle. I yawned, bored. And a little tired.
“Abigail? Is that you, dear?” I heard a shaky, elderly female voice off to my right.
I turned, oblivious to my surroundings as I’d been intently studying the tins on the shelf in front of me.
I smiled when I saw one of my Mom’s friends looking at me intently, pushing her thick glasses towards her face with a wrinkled finger.
“Oh, hey Sally. Yeah it’s me. Don’t you recognise me? I haven’t changed that much.” I giggled warmly.
“Well I can remember when you were a little girl, and yes you have changed dear. How are you?” She came over to stand closer to me, unashamedly studying me from head to toe.
Sally had been our next door neighbor when we were growing up, and I’d known her for as long as I could remember. She had seemed old when I was a kid, and I had no idea how old she was these days.
“I’m good, thanks Sally. Got my own place, only renting for now. But you know me, I’m working hard. Putting money away when I can, and planning on moving away somewhere when I can afford it.”
As far away from Mickey as I can fucking get.
“That’s good dear.” She was looking at my face, her appraisal of my new womanly form complete. “Are you still with that.. Mike?” she queried, hesitantly.
I waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, no. We broke up years ago. I’ve been single since, haven’t found the time to find the right man yet!”
“Oh I’m glad, he was a nasty piece of work. You can do much better than him.” She smiled at me.
“I mean look at you, you could get any man you wanted! But it’s hard finding a decent man, I know. Just don’t work too hard, and find the time to have some fun.” Sally winked at me, a mischievous gleam in her eye.
I laughed, blushing at her compliment.
We chatted for a while longer about nothing in particular. Sally mentioned the recent news stories about the biker meth resurfacing. I had shrugged, trying to act nonchalant as I was reminded again of Mickey’s visit and his threats.
I made my excuses and picked up the few things I needed, promising to visit her before leaving town.
I smiled to myself as I walked slowly back towards home, thinking about what Sally had said.
‘Find the time to have some fun’. You know what, I think that’s what I need. Enough pretending not to be lonely. I could find a decent man if I put my mind to it. There’ve gotta be some hiding around somewhere.
I paused, looking to my right at the shop I was passing. It was a lingerie store, one I’d been meaning to visit for a while. I’d put it off, telling myself that I didn’t have the money. Really though, I was nervous. I’d only ever bought functional underwear, and didn’t have the first clue about sexy lingerie.
I steeled myself, took a deep breath and entered the store quickly, before I could change my mind.
I breathed a sigh of relief to find the store empty other than an attractive, middle aged woman who was sorting through some lace bras. She turned as the bell above the door rang.
“Oh hey, darlin’. Be with you in a sec.” She quickly put the bras to one side and came over, smiling.
I smiled back nervously, and looked around at the array of clothing in the store around me. Even the more boring of the bras and panties had lace detailing.
“What are you looking for? Something specific, got an idea of what your man likes?” She studied me, a finger on her lips.
“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t found him yet!” We both laughed.
“Right. I see.” She tapped her finger against her lip thoughtfully.
“So, you want something that’s going to attract him when you’re fully clothed, as well as when you get down to it.” She nodded.
She took me over to a section near the back of the store. There was an array of sexy, lace matching bras and panties of various colours. They looked silk, shiny and form-fitting.
“Now, if these don’t do the job then I don’t know what will. What’s your size, darlin’?” I gave her my sizes and she handed me a selection of different items.
“The panties will fit, and we can’t uh.. Let you try them on for obvious reasons. But I’d suggest trying a bra or two on.” She smiled. “Boobs sometimes have a mind of their own when it comes to sizing. Can be hard to tell.”
I thanked her and headed for the changing room, closing the curtain behind me. It had been a while since I’d bought new clothes, let alone underwear. I felt a little awkward as I stripped my uniform off, surrounded by full length mirrors
.
I shrugged and took my bra off, unclipping it and letting it fall to the floor. I was just wearing some black cotton panties as I studied myself in the mirrors, from three different angles. I turned my hips to get a better look at my butt.
Wow. I hope my new man likes a big butt.
I began to feel more confident as I studied my figure. Full hips, big butt, slim waist. Athletic but full. Medium sized, pert and shapely boobs. Natural black hair that shone as it cascaded down to my boobs. Full lips, big almond shaped eyes.
I tried on a bra, a white lace push up bra with a cute little bow between the boobs. It was a bit tight around my cleavage, but comfortable.
Wow. This will do. If anything, my tips should get a lot better at the bar. Thats for sure.
I held the matching panties against my hips, happy that I could get into them quite easily.
I dressed quickly and returned to the store assistant. I chose three sets, white, red and baby blue and paid for them with the tips from my bar job.
I smiled contently as I finished the walk home, strolling along idly. I had a few hours to kill before starting work, and was in no rush. I had plenty of time for a nice long bath and to try on my new purchases, which I held proudly at my side.
Now all I need to do is find a man to show them to...
Charlie
IT TURNED OUT THE JUNKIE was telling the truth. I was surprised they knew what day it was, let alone gave me actual valuable information. The guy who’d blabbed and given me the meth sample wasn’t your average wasted junkie. Even if he was such a meth head he’d probably still be useful for the occasional bit of info.
Never trust a junkie Charlie, or a rat for that matter. Or a dirty cop. They’ll all sell you out as soon as they can get something out of it.
Having cruised around the east side of town for a while, I’d spotted a few guys at various street corners. It took me a little while to spot O’Hanlan, skulking in the recess of an alleyway near to what I guessed was his new corner. He’d sell drugs to people that visited him, and would give a cut of his profit back to the gangsters he was working for.
The gang would most likely give him batches of drugs up front, their signature 80 percent meth. He would have to sell roughly three quarters or so of it within a week in order to pay the gangsters back. The rest was his profit margin. He could either smoke it or sell it, or both.
But he had to sell the meth. These guys were not the sort you wanted to owe anything to. If he was wise, he’d buy the meth up front after starting to turn a profit. At least then a slow week wouldn't mean the loss of a finger or toe. Or one of his expensive gold teeth. Teeth that he’d originally lost for owing money to nasty gangsters in the first place.
I watched him from a safe distance for a while. He made about 3 transactions in the ten minutes I was there.
I wasn’t gonna bust him. Not if he gave me the info I wanted. No, if I arrested him the biker gang would know about it. Also, if he got locked up there would be a new kid there selling meth within a day or so anyway.
I had formulated a plan of attack and intimidation. The fact that he was standing at the edge of an alleyway made it much easier to carry out.
I waited for his next customer to be on his way, then chose my moment. I had to get this done quick, otherwise he might get backup. I just hoped I wasn’t recognised by any spotters, that they didn’t know who I was.
Well, if they don’t know who I am, they damn well will soon. Taking over my town. I don’t fucking think so.
I pulled the collar up on my trench coat and put some dark, large rimmed sunglasses on as I walked quickly towards John Goldteeth. I saw his five gold teeth flash bright yellow in the sun as I approached.
He saw me approach and flinched, cursing under his breath.
“Yo, Goldie. Been a while, bro,” I spat at him as I approached.
“Hey, Charlie. Listen, I can explain...”
His words were cut short as I punched him firmly in the gut, knocking the air from his lungs.
“Guess you didn’t learn your fucking lesson, John!” I said quietly as I pushed him into the dark recess of the alley, kneeing him in the chest as he tried to rise from his half crouch behind a dumpster.
He held his hands up defensively. “Fucks sake, Charlie. Let me...”
I drew my glock and cracked the butt savagely against the side of his face, satisfied with the crunch as it connected with his cheekbone.
“I will do the fucking talking, Johnnie boy. You will fucking listen and tell me what I need to know.” I paused, waiting for him to give me another reason to hit him again. He stayed quiet, holding his face, wincing.
“Good. Listen, I heard from a good source you’re selling meth for the new gang in town.” He nodded, grimacing.
“I want a sample of your meth. And a name. Give me what I want or I’ll take all your fucking meth, and beat you senseless. And you can go explain to the new boys how you get beat up by a junkie, and lost your meth. And then you’ll lose all your nice shiny gold teeth.”
He looked up at me, a pleading look in his eye. He looked pathetic.
I nodded at him. “Talk. Now.”
He gasped a breath in. “Look, I’ll tell you what I know. Alright. But just what I know, and it ain’t much, I promise.”
I nodded at him. “Go on, then.”
“Shit, man. Ok. You remember Mickey O’Neill? Word on the street is that he’s back. And he’s pissed, man. Wants to take back what’s his.”
I kicked John in the gut.
“It’s not his fucking town. It’s mine!” I spat at him. “Ain’t having no meth epidemic on my streets!”
He whimpered pathetically. “Hey man, enough with the beating. I’m only passing on what I was told. Fucking hell, Charlie.”
“Mickey. Mickey O’Neill,” I said, thoughtfully. “I remember the piece of work. Nasty, reckless fuck. How in the hell did he get away?”
“I don’t know man, honest. They couldn’t get anything to stick, so I heard. That’s all I got. I just get meth off his dealers, and give them the money. I don’t know any names man, I promise. The two I deal with are called Shark and Dready. Dready’s got dreadlocks, see.”
“I fucking get it, John. Shut up. Give me some meth before I decide I’m gonna beat the shit out of you just for fun.” I held my left hand out, and pointed my glock in his face with my right.
“Oh, I should say. If anything other than a big bag of drugs comes out of your coat, I will kill you. Instantly.” I grinned at him menacingly. He looked shit scared.
“Alright man, slow and steady. I know the drill.” He drew out a small bag of meth with a shaky hand and passed it to me.
“What the hell is that supposed to be?” I threw the bag back at him. “Do I look like I’m in the mood for fucking around, you slimy fuck?”
“Ok, ok. Sorry, man.” He rummaged around in his pocket again, and drew out a much bigger bag.
“That’s better. Now, I’m sure it goes without saying but this meeting never happened. Alright? You came back here to sort out a deal with a long time customer who wanted bulk.” I was satisfied when he nodded at me enthusiastically.
“Don’t cross my path again, Goldie. You stay here on your little corner, selling drugs to fucking kids like the weasel that you are. If I see you trying to climb up the social ladder, or if word gets back to me that you’ve blabbed, I will put you behind bars. Same place the O’Neills went, and I’ll make sure they think you talked about Mickey. You’ll get shanked in the lunch line, after the boys have had fun with you in the shower. And no one will give a single fuck.”
I backed away, aiming my glock at him as I headed for the other end of the alleyway.
“Now fuck off,” I said gruffly. He scrambled to his feet, straightened his clothes and then coughed as he prodded his cheek with a fat, grubby finger.
When he was back at his spot at the end of the alley I turned and walked swiftly away, holstering my service pistol. I looked down
at my boots.
Fucker scuffed my boots. He so much as breathes a word about me to anyone I’ll make sure his face is imprinted on them. Permanently.
Satisfied I hadn’t been spotted, I headed back to my car. I’d got a name, and two samples of meth from dealers at either side of town. Along with Danny’s evidence and statement, I had the workings of a case on my hands.
I turned on the ignition and drove away casually, scowling thoughtfully as my mind raced through what I’d found so far.
Looks like the O’Neills are back. The one that got away decided to become big time. Too bad you came back to my town, Mickey. Shoulda fucked off to Mexico. I’m gonna take you down, scumbag.
I made my way slowly back to the precinct, taking unnecessary turns just in case O’Hanlan had squealed already. I knew enough of his character from my time undercover to believe he was shitting himself, and would go back to slinging meth from his spot. Wouldn’t say a word.
I reached the parking lot, confident I hadn’t been followed.
One of the old, corrupt detectives was smoking by the back entrance to the car park as I got out my car. He looked my way as I headed towards the entrance.
“Charlie. I know you think you’re doing the right thing. But don’t go sticking your nose in where it ain't warranted. Don’t think you want to step on anyone’s toes, right?” He paused, taking a big drag from his cigarette.
“We got an understanding in this town. Me and the old boys got these scumbags under control. We take them down, someone else steps in their place. Better to keep the peace, keep everyone happy. In the green, right?”
He flicked his cigarette into the gutter next to his feet. He took a step towards me, one hand in his pocket, the other pointing a finger at me.
“People gonna be smoking meth no matter what. Ain’t much else to do around here. So why not see me and the boys later for a beer. We can work something out. Keep everyone sweet, make a deal. Get it?”
I stopped, my hand on the door. I turned my head to look at the balding, fat detective who was appraising me with bloodshot eyes.
“No. I don’t fucking get it. People come into this town, our town, and start selling meth to kids and junkies? Start intimidating and killing people? And you want me to make a fucking deal with them?” I let go of the door and turned to face the old detective.
