Jagger

 

 

Mikayla is antsy in the passenger seat of the luxury car, Harry assisted with renting, while we dined at our hotel, Julian Serrano’s the Spanish based restaurant. Which reminds me, I have a chef she’ll love in Spain. The man chatted up Mikayla while brining dinner, and he was baffled that I prefer to drive instead of utilizing one of their chauffeurs. But little does he know, having a driver leaves a witness that ties us to the spot where William Freedman will ‘last be seen.’

The GPS system of the supercar hasn’t been quite disabled, yet virtually rerouted, so once Harry returns it to the exotic car rental, the outline of tonight’s trip will indicate that Mikayla and I traveled to one of the casinos off the strip, based on the sum of mileage that’s used when I drop Freedman’s body—but in a vastly different area.

“Dinner was so good, albeit I think I have to…” she places her hands over her lips and gulps. “Oh god, oh god, Jagger next time you decide to murder someone, remind me not to enjoy paella or flan… or any other food in general, prior to.”

Little does she know, my plan is to keep her. There’ll be more deaths, so I’ll keep her suggestions in mind. For now, I chuckle while glancing at the route on my cell phone. The sex club Freedman has invited us to must be one of those pop ups, because Google maps insists that our destination is a drop off into the middle of the desert. “You’ll do fine.”

“Come again? And I’m not being metaphoric, Jagger. How the hell will I do fine when I don’t plan on having any sex. The crap you pulled at the High Roller Ferris Wheel crossed enough lines as it is.”

Even though I meant murdering the guy, my shoulders shift as response.

“Oh, cute, we’re back to the shrug thing. You resemble the three-headed monster, FYI.”

“Damn, I forgot, when angry you use that mouth of yours. There are other things you can do to calm your worries.” I grab my crotch.

“Pft…” she folds her arms and glances out the window. Moments later, Mikayla addresses me again. “Don’t your palms hurt?”

“No.”

“You still have gashes in them.”

“When I was fucking you in the shower, I still had the stab wound from Trick. Didn’t stop me. Nothing stops me from what I enjoy.” I hope she reads between the lines.

Lips pursed, Mikayla turns toward the window again.

A text message pops up on my iPhone.

WILLIAM: I’m waiting in my car. What’s your ETA?

I slide my thumb to move the message and continue to follow Google Maps. That asshole blew us off this morning, now time is of the essence? I can tell he’s the type only to become eager when pussy is around. He can fucking wait.

***

Turns out, William doesn’t have much time to wait for us. An old multilevel adobe pueblo appears in the distance. The supercars, which surround it, stick out like sore thumbs beneath the stars and Joshua trees.

Mikayla glances around. “Sheesh, under any other circumstances, I’d like to know the history about this place… and these idiots are using it for freaky fetishes.”

“Yes, I’m sure the inside of it has lost all its original character to.” I say, pulling in between a cactus and a Cadillac Cien Concept. There are a few parts that I’d like to lift from this vehicle. With limousine tent on the windows, I can’t see inside, but the license plate places it as belonging to Freedman.

“I’m still not interested in going inside,” Mikayla murmurs as I get out of the car.

“Don’t worry about that,” I close my door, and come around to her side to open hers up. Just as Freedman’s guard and driver get out of the front seats of the Cadillac. Freeman eagerly opens the back door just as the driver started for it. With his eyes all over Mikayla, he stands and adjusts his tie.

“What a stunning vision!” William says. “Alisha, you—”

My Magnum revolver targets his left kneecap. The entire bone is blown to smithereens. William falls in a heap, screaming like a boiled cat. I aim for his two bodyguards. The driver turns around, unsuspecting. He doesn’t even have a chance to touch his piece before he’s shot, execution style, between his eyes. Brain and skull matter spray against the driver side door.

The second bodyguard, who has at least had the opportunity to touch his gun, falls down dead next to a Glock .40 Caliber. He had better luck bringing a knife to a gun fight than attempting to shoot me with that inaccurate piece of crap. The bullets are half the size of my .357 revolver.

Mikayla places her shaking hands over her lips. The gunfight lasted all of five seconds. After ten more, I hold out our car keys for her. She doesn’t take them. With William screaming at the top of his lungs, I pistol whip his temple. His face slams into the dirt, instantly unconscious. Blood drips into the sand as I cuff him. Looking up at Mikayla, my voice is sincerer, “Uthando lwami, are you able to follow me?”

“I…”

“I need you to calm down. What’s done is done.” I tell her as I toss him in the backseat again. The security guard and driver are placed in the trunk next. “The longer we stand around the more chance we have of being seen. Someone could be looking out the window now, Mikayla.” Man up, because William is all yours, uthando lwami….

I kiss her hard enough to rev her engine and get Mikayla hurrying toward the driver side of our rental.

“Beautiful,” I call out to her.

She catches the key. That’s a good sign.

***

We’re on the opposite side of town, or rather the desert, when I find the perfect spot to drop these bodies. Might even come across a few bones, which has happened two out of four instances in which I dug graves in Nevada. The other two marks were sniped in plain sight leaving the authorities to clean them up. Sometimes the situation calls for it.

The Cadillac is impressively smooth over the baked desert sand. The ultra-white beams at the rear, signals to me the fact Mikayla hasn’t run away from me yet. I smile. If she doesn’t leave me over this, then we’re golden.

I rub my shredded palms together, contemplating the excitement I will have after she pulls the trigger.

My baby, my truck, and all the enjoyment I have while working on it doesn’t compare to this moment.

I hop out of the car and nod my head to Mikayla. The darkness surrounds us, and as my eyes adjust I notice the wide saucer look of her eyes.

Okay, baby steps.

“Get out of the car, Mikayla.”

Her hands hold tight to the steering wheel, and she shakes her head ‘no.’

Keeping her head forward, she speaks with mistrust as if she’s contemplating a conspiracy. Her voice is lowered due to the rolled-up windows. “You didn’t kill William. Why didn’t you kill him?”

I place my palm along the glass of the front driver side door. This is déjà vu. Her locking herself in a vehicle in fear of me… or in this instance, my very bad intentions for her.

“You are a smart girl, now open up for me…”

Mikayla’s angry gaze seeks out my own. “Not until you … you … God, what’s wrong with me? I literally was in the process of begging you to finish him.” She growls, placing her head against the steering wheel. Her tone is muffled by the glass but becomes further inaudible as she grumbles and argues with herself.

I lick my lips in anticipation of her giving in. This is sex to me. I took Mikayla’s virginity. And I’m going to enjoy having it once more as she claims her first life.

I own her, she’s mine, and her killer mentality will be sculpted, molded into the perfect image.

My princess. My queen. My hitwoman! My everything.

My tone is curved with lust and desire. “Mikayla, open up for me. I promise you’ll love it. Beautiful, open up for daddy…”

She glances at me. Mascara and tears running down her cheeks.

My breath catches. We are living the best time of our lives. Why cry?

“Uthando lwami, once we leave here I’m going to eat your pussy until you cry a happy elated cry. Just open up for me… baby. Let me in.”

The lock clicks. I open the door and scoop her into my arms. “I’m going to eat you happy. I’ll drink that sweet Malva between your thighs, and lick it all up, until there’s glittery happy tears stream down your cheeks.”

Wow, that was poetic. I’m a man with a craving, and by any means, I will get it.

“Jagger, I’m not going to shoot him.” She murmurs against my chest. “That’s why you didn’t finish William. You intended to have me do it.”

I place her onto her own two feet. Voice heavy with sarcasm, I utter, “You are sophisticated, Kayla.”

“You’re being mean!” She presses a finger against my chest. “You can’t make me do it.”

A soft wind rustled sending her chocolate brown tresses into her face. I push them away. “I can, and I have the means of forcing you to do anything that I request, Mikayla. Remember what it means to disobey me.”

Her head moves left to right, adamantly denying me. With the gun in my palm, I grab her with both hands and kiss her harshly, reminding her of the beast I am. The last hour hasn’t penetrated, yet. She bites my lip so hard I bleed. I lick away the blood, and then place the gun into her hands. “We have all night, Kayla.”

“What happened to only the great Jagger Johansson is permitted to pull the trigger! Huh, Jag? Huh?” She points the gun at me. “What happened to if I shoot your gun, the bullet will project in my direction. That I’ll be blown to smithereens!”

I just stand there as she baits me. It’s evident Mikayla doesn’t need an answer. She squeezes the trigger a few feet away from my left shoulder. The power of my revolver slams her wrist back and sends her stumbling.

My ear rings.

“I wish with all of my might that you’d budge, be scared for once!” Mikayla presses the gun against my chest.

I almost laugh at the comment, getting myself into real trouble. She has the ability to torture me. Albeit, hitting, slapping, or shooting at me are none of her forms of defense.

“So, how are we dumping them?” Mikayla asks, while leaning against the side of our rental.

I reach inside and pop the trunk. She huffs, craning her neck to look inside.

“His and hers shovels. Trick dropped them off at the car while you were dressing.” I grit my teeth. The motherfucker even had the audacity to bring a gift. He wanted to offer Mikayla her first gun for free.

“Will I ever grow accustomed to the weird friendship between the two of you?”

I hold out the shovel, Mikayla doesn’t take it. “Just makes the process longer, Kayla.”

“Pfst! Sounds like you’ve got a personal problem?” She folds her arms.

With my jaw set, I chose a spot near the front of the cars to maximize the high beam light of both rentals, and I start digging. I’m knee deep into the ditch when Mikayla whispers my name. Freedman must’ve awaken. This is her chance! I cock a grin, grip the ledge and pull up.

Mikayla runs into my arms at top speed almost sending us both falling back.

Freedman groans in the backseat of his car. “Help… help…” His moans hardly reach above a whisper.

“Do something,” Mikayla looks up at me.

I reach into my back pocket and grab my Magnum, again. 

“No!” She seethes in a harsh whisper as I hold it out.

“Take it. Finish him, Kayla.” I growl as William falls to the ground on the opposite side of the Cadillac.

“Do you know how much I abhor you when you call me Kayla? Trust me, you don’t want me taking that revolver right now.”

My eyelid twitches. The mark has crawled about five yards. “Alright, I’ll handle him this time. But the sooner you become accustomed to murder, the smoother it will go in the future.”

“I never will!” she shouts toward me.

At the opposite side of the Cadillac, I bite my tongue. No need arguing further.

“You look so disappointed, Jagger.” She continues to goad me.

Once again, I’m wishing we were on a motorcycle, so I can tune her out.

“Why…. Why?” William grits out, crawling on the ground like a snake. Burgundy liquid has smeared against the ground. “What have I done to you, Jace?”

“Jace was my father’s name.” I reach down and grab the back of his neck. I yank on the serpent. He reaches out and is unable to get ahold of my trousers as I move him around the car to where Mikayla is. She starts for the door of the rental. I remove the keys from my trousers and lock it. Then I jiggle the key for her.

Her eyes narrow.

There are so many minute details she needs to learn.

Freedman stops struggling to get away and asks, “Okay… okay, what do you people want? Money?”

My knee slams into his mouth.

“Jagger!” Mikayla screams.

“Sweetheart, I’ve heard it a thousand times. You’ll grow tired of it soon enough.”

“Fuck you!” William spits out blood. He’s already a pale color from the drain of blood of his leg wound. But he musters all his energy to beg Mikayla instead. “Alisha, whatever you fucking want to be called, save me! I’ll make you richer than your wildest dreams.”

His statement gets a rise out of Mikayla. She argues, “Humph, how about you write a check to the little old ladies who were comfortable in the homes they grew up in. Tiny little homes that don’t mean shit to you. Promise me that, and yeah, I’ll save you.”

Her fucking mouth. It’s almost priceless. The look on Freedman’s face though, even staring death in the face, he doesn’t have the heart to empathize with the demographic that he’s displaced.

Mikayla offers an award-winning response to his lack of give-a-fuck. “Sounds like I can’t help you.”

Aware that his time is up, Freedman begins to shout, “No–”

Without glancing in his direction, I squeeze the trigger. The bullet tears through his skull right in the center of his eyes. The gun spins around my trigger finger before I re-holster it.