Eighteen
Garin
One Month Ago
My cell vibrated from the inside of my jacket pocket as I walked down the hallway to my bedroom. Shitty fucking timing. Had it been one minute later, my cock would have been in the ass of one of the twins. They weren’t identical. I wasn’t even sure they were sisters. But, hell, they both had blonde hair and light eyes, and they responded to the nickname. That was easier than remembering their names.
I’d left them in my bedroom a few minutes ago to get us some drinks. They were naked, kneeling on the bed. I was sure they were still in the same position, just waiting to suck the cum out of me. Those filthy mouths couldn’t get enough of my cock. They pumped that fucker with every part of their body until they got what they wanted—every goddamn squirt of it. Then, they ate it off me. They swapped it between their mouths. And they swallowed that shit down.
I fucking loved it when they came to my place.
But Billy’s name was on the screen of my phone, so they were going to have to wait a few more minutes before I joined them.
I walked to the doorway of my bedroom, set the glasses down on the floor, and held up a finger to let them know I’d be back. Then, I went into my home office and shut the door behind me. “What’s going on, Billy?”
“I met someone that said she used to do side work for my brother.”
I took a seat in the chair, shifting my pants to make room for my hard-on. Seeing those two bare pussies again had made my dick throb. “I thought you were going to take a break from this shit?”
“I was.” He exhaled a mouthful of smoke. “But then I came across this chick, and my search picked right back up. She said Paulie owed her money when he died.”
“That tells me nothing.”
“She’s a hooker, Garin.”
I shook my head, knowing this was just going to lead to more needles and black tar. “So, Paulie liked to get his dick wet with hookers. How the fuck is that going to help us find out who killed him?”
“Because he didn’t fuck her. This chick worked for him, and the money was for some tricks that he never paid her for.”
I pushed the chair back and leaned on the desk. “What are you talking about?”
“She said she wasn’t his only hooker. He had others, and none of them got paid.”
“Paulie wasn’t running a prostitution ring. We would have known.”
“Maybe we were wrong.”
Nah. I wasn’t fucking wrong.
Paulie ran drugs for the bosses. He didn’t work in prostitution. Prostitution was street level, and the bosses didn’t mess with it. The profits were risky because the girls OD’d faster than the guys could hire them.
When you worked for Mario and his crew, you didn’t have a side job or another source of income. The bosses owned you, and they gave you a small piece of your total earnings. If you tried to hide money, they found you…and they killed you.
The bosses hadn’t killed Paulie. We’d determined it was an outside job back when the murder happened, and the bosses knew nothing about the killer. But, if information was just now surfacing, there was a chance they’d heard about it.
“I’ll talk to the bosses,” I said. “But don’t expect this to lead to anything. If anyone knew what Paulie was up to, they were smart enough to keep their mouth shut. Do me a favor; keep yours shut, too—at least until I talk to the guys and get a better idea of what’s going on here.”
“Too late.”
Fuck.
“Who’d you talk to?”
“Guys on the street. You know, the dealers who worked in the area at that time.”
Those dealers still worked for the bosses, so I was sure word had spread. I was surprised Mario hadn’t said anything to me about it.
“Did they know anything?” I asked.
“Nothing. Not even one of ’em had a clue on what Paulie was up to.”
He sounded deflated. I knew it wasn’t just from searching for Paulie’s killer.
“All right,” I said, “I’ll take it from here, but I want you laying low. If rumors start flying that Paulie had a side gig, the bosses are going to be pissed, and it’s not going to look good if you’re the one spreading them.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“While you’re laying low, how about you get some sleep? You sound like shit.”
I checked the screen of my phone. I’d been talking to Billy for almost ten minutes, and the girls hadn’t made a noise. I hoped one of them was still on her knees, her tongue running over the other’s cunt. I fucking loved watching them eat pussy.
“I’m fine.”
It made me crazy whenever he said that. He wasn’t healthy. He wasn’t rested. He wasn’t eating. He definitely wasn’t sleeping. He was shooting as much heroin as his body could handle. Every time I spoke to him, he sounded worse than the last time.
“You’re not fine. We both know it.”
“Don’t fucking worry about me. If you lecture me every time we talk, I’m going to stop calling you.”
If he stopped calling me, I’d have one of the guys track him down and shadow him, sitting with him every minute of the goddamn day. Telling him that would only start a fight. And fighting with Billy meant he’d only use more.
I couldn’t be the reason he cooked up more dope…considering I was the reason he’d started using in the first place.
“I’ll call you when I know something.”
He chuckled. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow then.”
“Yeah, tomorrow.”
I hung up and set the phone on my desk, knowing I’d call him whether I knew something or not. Maybe if I could get some answers or at least a little resolution, Billy would go to rehab for me.
I shook the mouse beside my computer, and the monitor lit up. I clicked on the feed for the master bedroom security camera, and a full-angle shot of my room popped up. I zoomed in on the bed. One of the twins was on her back, her head on my pillows, her knees bent. The other was buried, face-deep, in her cunt.
Just how I wanted them.
I exited the feed, left my phone on the desk, and walked to my bedroom.