Chapter Eleven
Snake
I contemplated killing Jess for four hours, from the moment I saw her poison Monty’s tequila, to the moment I pulled my finger away from the trigger in the desert. That was three hours and fifty-nine minutes too long. What kind of soldier does that make me? I’m too squeamish to kill this chick, why? Because she’s cute? I’ve pledged my iron clad loyalty to the Mariano’s. In the oath I took, I promised to do anything for the good of the family; serve time in prison, even if innocent, and of course, kill.
If anyone on the crew knew that I saw an attempted hit on our capo, and let the perp live, they’d hang me by the skin of my balls. Monty is Salvatore’s father for Christ sakes. I owe Sal my life. Without him I’d be nothing, probably just another dope fiend like Matt and the other guys from the boys’ home. I don’t even want to think about what Salvatore would do to me if he knew who Jess was.
I’m a coward. I’ve given into my emotions, and let them hold me back. Right now, I’m escorting a enemy of the family back to her apartment, to gather the credit card numbers that I should’ve fucking grabbed in the first place. I look ahead at the road, letting the moonlight guide me, and try to forget she’s there.
Sometimes I miss the days of slinging dope on the corner. Salvatore had about twenty of us orphans working under him, driving a lucrative drug industry. I rose to the top, making more sales than anyone. That’s because all I cared about was the hustle. I didn’t pocket my earnings like the others to spend on strippers and beer, or inject my profit back into my arm. I just worked my ass off, and Salvatore took notice. He gave me the most profitable territories, and a bigger cut than the other dealers.
Back then, before I was made, things were easy. Everything made sense. I had a clear mission, and all I had to do was keep my head down and chase that cash. Now, one stupid little mistake leads to another, and suddenly, my whole life is fucked.
When I pull up to Jess’ apartment building, I look at that stupid little mistake in the seat next to me. She’s not scared anymore. She’s not trembling like she was when I was hurtling towards the desert, pleading for her life in an unsteady voice. I’ve got to admit, I got a rush from having so much power over her. All I had to do was move my hand towards my gun to make her flinch. I probably could’ve done anything I wanted to her.
To see her now, with that snobbish look on her face, and her pageant queen posture, pisses me off. After what she tried to pull, she should be terrified. Maybe if I wasn’t such a coward, she would be. Before getting out the car, I open the glove box, and take out a pair of handcuffs. I glare at Jess while I shove them in my coat pocket.
I open her door and politely tell her to get out. I’d like to reach in there and grab her, but I don’t know who could be watching from their apartment window. Jess hesitates, giving me a sarcastic smile, then takes her time getting out.
“Thank you,” she whispers as she walks past me.
Arrogant cunt, I think, biting back the words so I don’t say them. I watch her ass sway as she walks towards the apartment. I should tie her up, make her scream my name, and show her who she’s dealing with.
We probably look like a regular couple coming back from a night out as we walk up the stairs to her apartment. While Jess unlocks her front door, I put one hand on my gun, and the other on the cuffs. Jess strides inside like I’m not there. She even slams the door closed behind her. I stop it with my foot and kick it back open.
Holding my gun on her, I back her up into the kitchen until her ass bangs against the cabinets. Her hands are up, showing me her palms, but the look in her eyes is one of bitter anger. I grab her wrist, then cuff her to a towel rack. I have her now. She’s my prisoner. If I wanted to put my hands on her, to rip her clothes off where she stands, she couldn’t do anything.
But I remain professional. I have business to take care of. Unlike before, I won’t let my cock get in the way.
“Where are the credit card numbers?,” I say. I hold the gun by my side, ready if I need it.
Jess grits her teeth. I almost want her to resist me. I want to have to press the gun into her lower stomach, and watch her eyes turn to pools of fear. But she seems to have sprouted some sense.
“There’s a CD-ROM,” she says, coldly. “In the bedroom. Under the mattress.”
I head down the hall to her bedroom. It’s as drab as any other room in the apartment. There’s nothing hanging on the wall, no knick-knacks, nothing. Of course that cold bitch would think it’s not worth her time to decorate.
I slip my hands under the mattress, and heave it off of the bed. The corner hits a full-length mirror hanging on the wall, cracking the glass. There it is, lying on the bed frame. It’s an unmarked CD-ROM in a clear case. I snatch it up.
I have what I came here for, so I need to go. But I can’t stop myself from opening the drawers of the side table. Jackpot. It’s her underwear drawer. I sift through the plain cotton garments until I find a stash of lacy thongs. I take a black one with red ribbons, and stretch it over my fingers, imagining how it looks wrapped around her tight ass. Deeper in the drawer, I find a pink vibrator.
Who do you think of when you use this? I silently ask her, turning the device around in my hand. I switch it on, and it buzzes inside my enclosed fingers. Apparently, even the Ice Queen needs some sexual relief every once in a while.
Back in the kitchen, Jess is right where I left her. I hold up the CD-ROM for her to see, then stash it in my pocket with the black thong.
“What the hell were you doing in there?” Jess spits. “It sounds like you were tearing the place apart.”
I give her a menacing smile, then slowly push a blender off of the counter. The glass breaks when it hits the tile floor. Jess’ complexion turns a shade whiter. Her eyes widen with fear. There she is, my scared little lamb.
“You got what you want,” Jess snarls. “Get out.”
I sidestep the glass on the floor, examining the contents of her counter. I look at her while running my finger over the handle of a large kitchen knife.
Jess bites her lip. “What are you going to do to me?” she asks, solemnly.
What am I going to do with her? I know what I’d like to do.
I walk up to her calmly until I’m pressed against her. Jess leans back over the counter, but there’s no where for her to go. She can’t escape me. I feel her breath in her belly. With every inhale, her chest expands, pushing her tits against my chest. I take my gun and press it into her side. She whimpers, and begins to shake.
“Do you know what I should do to you?” I ask. “What my loyalty to the Mariano family demands of me?”
I push the barrel of the gun harder into her flesh. Jess swallows, then hardens her face.
“What’s stopping you?”
I feel a rush of anger. Is she really calling my bluff? I stare her down, making my eyes cold and hard. Jess’ upper lip curls in defiance. After a few moments, I step away from her, chuckling.
“You got a suicide wish or something?” I ask. “Whatever this little vendetta you have isn’t worth it. You strike at the Mariano’s again, we’ll strike back. Consider this your last warning.”
I feel her eyes on me as I search through a bowl of keys on the counter. I find one labeled spare, with her apartment number written on it, and make sure she sees me take it.
“I’ll be watching,” I say, then head towards the door.
“Hey, what the fuck?” Jess yells. “Are you just going to leave me here?”
I slam the door closed, and use my key to lock it. Jess shouts, “Fucking prick,” at the door, then grumbles lowly to herself. I take out the reverse peephole viewer I bought off a cop, and take a look at her.
Jess has opened a drawer, and is searching through it. She takes out a meat thermometer, and uses the pointy end to dig into the lock. It takes her a few minutes, but she eventually gets the cuffs to open, freeing herself.
“Sneaky bitch,” I say under my breath. Maybe I should go in there and fuck her, get it out of my system so I can kill her. But no, once won’t be enough. One taste won’t satisfy my craving. I’ll just have to watch her. Closely.
I go downstairs to the car, recline the driver’s seat, and settle in for the night. While watching Jess’ window like a hawk, I see her open the drapes. I flash my lights at her a couple of times. She looks right at me, then angrily yanks the drapes closed.