A Debt Paid (17 page)

“Calix.”
“Hmmm”
“Something is burning— Oh crap!
Did you leave the stove on?”

“Oh shit!” Calix yelled as he
unceremoniously pushed Anya off him,
jumped up, and ran to the kitchen.

Sure enough, Calix ran in to the
kitchen, and it was full of smoke. He was
surprised his alarm hadn’t gone off. He
would have to call the concierge, and have
them get someone to check it. The
vegetables he had been sautéing in butter
on low, were now black, burnt, and stuck to
a smoking pan. He waved his hand back
and forth in front of him, trying to disperse
the smoke enough for him to get to the pan.
Grabbing it by the handle, he removed it
from the range, and tossed it in the sink.

Anya was not far behind him, since
she had only stopped to get her robe on.
She came to the smoke filled kitchen and
began to cough as the she breathed in the
smoke.
“Calix, turn on the range fan.”

“Anya, get out of here. The smoke is
not good for you.”
Calix turned on the fan and left the
kitchen, taking Anya with him.

“Anya, when I tell you to leave, you
leave.” She crossed her arms and raised an
eyebrow at that remark. Calix back peddled
quickly. “Love, I didn’t mean it like that, I
just didn’t want you getting sick from the
smoke.” He placed his hand on her belly
and softly rubbed as he spoke. Anya placed
her hand atop his and chuckled.

“I’m only pregnant, Calix, I don’t
think a little smoke is going to hurt me.”
“I don’t want to take a chance,” he
replied sternly.
Anya gaffed at him and walked to
the living room.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling for Chinese. I don’t think
dinner is salvageable, and I’m starving.”
***

James sat in his car, waiting and
preparing. He was wearing leather, so no
fibers would be left behind. He pocketed
some blue shoe covers, so no trace
evidence or shoe indentions would be left,
a pair of surgical gloves came next, and he
covered his already closely shaved hair
with a beanie, just in case a hair might fall.
He was thorough and ruthless, which is
why he was so expensive.

James had no heart. He was a black
souled, cruel son of a bitch. He never cared
who the mark was or what the job was as
long as they paid his price. Most of his hits
came from people wanting revenge or pay
back, and not all of them wanted it against
the actual person. A couple of his clients
wanted the hits to be on that person’s wife
or child, so the person could live and suffer
longer.

He did a quick re-check of his sling
bag.
Lock-pick set – check.
Ketamine – check.
Half face respirator – check.
Nitrous oxide – check.
Brass knuckles – check.
Leather sap/slap jack – check.
Wiping rag – check.

Everything was ready, all he had to
do was wait for the right time. He went
through his steps one by one to make sure
he did all he needed to do in less than an
hour. He looked down at his watch; it was
two am, and it was time to proceed. He got
out of his car and kept his head low while
he walked around to the back of the
building. When he came to the back door
that they used to throw out the buildings
trash, he pulled out his lock set and picked
the lock. Once inside, he walked to the
service elevator and rode it up to their
penthouse. He made sure to keep his head
low on the off chance that someone in the
building joined him in the elevator.

When the doors opened, he
gradually walked out, checking the floor for
any signs of the other occupants being out
and about. There were three other
penthouses on this floor. He walked to the
end, where in gold letters next to the door
read P4, and quickly picked the lock. When
he heard the tumblers click, he reached
into his pockets for his booties and gloves.
With the stealth learned from a lifetime of
crime, he entered the apartment and
slowly shut and locked the door behind
him.

The apartment was dark, and there
was the hint of burnt food smell still
clinging in the air. He crept around till he
came to the kitchen; sure enough they had
burnt whatever they were cooking. He
looked around till he spotted what he
needed. He went to the knife block on the
far end of the counter and pulled a small
steak knife from the block, something an
amateur would use. He placed it in his back
pocket and went to their bedroom.

He slowed his pace as he saw that
their door was open. He took hold of the
door handle and silently closed their door.
He waited a minute to see if either had
awoken. He learned in his line of work that
no matter how silent you are, some people,
very few people actually, but some people
had a sixth sense when there was a
presence in the house.

Kneeling on the floor, he removed
his respirator from his bag and strapped it
around the bottom half of his face. Doublechecking that it was on good, he pulled out
his compressed tank of nitrous oxide. He
pulled the hose out, connected it, slid it
under the door, and twisted the nozzle
open. It would take ten minutes for the
tank to empty and another five just to make
sure they inhaled enough to keep them
asleep while he shot them up with
Ketamine.

He kept still, staring at his watch
waiting for the time to pass. He was already
in about twenty-five minutes that meant he
had twenty minutes to do the job and leave
to get out of the building in under an hour.
Time up, he closed the valve, coiled the
hose and put everything back into his sling
bag. Cautiously, he opened the door and
walked in. All he could hear was the huff of
air as he breathed through his respirator
and his own pounding heart. His adrenaline
was pumping; it always did right before the
actual hit. As he walked to their bed, he
started to pull out the vile of Ketamine and
syringe. He carefully measured just enough
to keep Calix out for about an hour. He
leaned over Calix and pushed his hair aside
to inject him on the back of his neck at his
hairline where a puncture wound not be
found. Finished with Calix, he drugged
Anya just the same.

Completely satisfied that they were
out, he began setting the scene. He broke
the bedroom mirror and knocked lamps
over, making it look like a fight broke out
between them. He was fast and thorough.
He pulled out his leather sap, it was time to
get started. Picking up Calix’s hand, he
started to repeatedly hit his knuckles on
his right hand with his sap till they were
bloodied and bruised.

It was lucky for him that they were
in bed sleeping close to each other, so he
wouldn’t have to lift her as much. He pulled
her arm over to Calix’s face and used her
nails to claw down his cheek, neck, arms,
and chest. He took the steak knife from his
back pocket and place it Calix’s hand
making sure good fingerprints were on it.
Placing the knife back into his pocket he
then reached for Anya and drug her out of
bed by her hair. Her body made a hard thud
as it hit the floor. He looked down at her
and saw that she was completely naked.
Nice tits
, he thought to himself. He stood up
and looked around the room. He would
need to put some article of clothing on her
to make this work; no couple would fight
naked. As he drug her to the bathroom, he
ripped some of her hair out, dropping
strands on the floor. Fully inside the
bathroom, he dropped Anya’s head without
a second thought, making a sickening
cracking sound as it hit the tiled floor. He
walked over to the bathroom door and shut
it.

Thump! Thump! Thump!
“Mr. Anastas, open the door; this is
the police.”
Thump! Thump! Thump!

Calix began to stir and wake.
Pounding—someone is pounding on the
door.

He made to sit up. “God my head,”
he groaned. He reached to touch his
pounding head but touched something wet
on his forehead. He bought his hand back
down to look. “Blood, blood? What the
fuck? Wait, Anya?” He turned quickly to her
side of the bed. Oh that had been a mistake
his vision blurred, and he felt a sickness in
his stomach. “Anya!” he yelled for her.
Trying not to make himself sick again, he
slowly got out of bed. He stumbled his first
few steps but steadied himself. He looked
around, the bathroom door was open and
from where he was standing he saw Anya’s
foot on the floor, but the rest of her was
hidden behind the door.

“Oh God, Anya!” He ran, stumbling
to the bathroom, and the sight that awaited
him was so shocking he dropped to his
knees. Sprawled on the floor was Anya’s
battered and bloodied body.

“Anya, love, no God no!” He reached
out to pull her close. He frantically tried to
find a pulse; he pressed his ear to her chest.
She was breathing barely. He needed help
he needed to call nine-one-one.

***

“I hear yelling, you open the door or
we’ll break it down,” the officer yelled at
the concierge.

“Yes, sir.”

Door open the officers went in,
calling out, “Mr. Anastas, this is the police.
We received a call of loud shouting and
screaming.”

“Help!” Calix yelled. “Please, help
me! In here, please!”
The police came charging through
the door and stopped short.
“Hernandez, call a bus!”

Officer Curtis carefully took in the
scene in front of him. Scanning over Calix,
he saw scratch marks everywhere, and his
right hand was bloody, cut up with a hint of
swelling and bruising. With just the
evidence visible, it looked like a crime of
domestic violence, but he had to ask a few
questions before he called it in.

“She needs to get to the hospital
now! Can’t you get an ambulance here
faster?” Calix began to shift Anya closer.

“Mr. Anastas, it’s best if you don’t
move her. The ambulance is three minutes
out. Mr. Anastas, sir, is there an attacker in
the house?”

Calix looked around before he
answered. “I–I don’t know.”
“Can you tell me what happened?”
“I don’t know, we were in bed
asleep.”

Hernandez walked back over to
Curtis and informed him the bus was here
and the medics were on their way up.
Officer Curtis’s radio started to buzz from
dispatch.

“Yes, this is Officer Curtis reporting
in, I believe we have a two seventy-three D.
I’m requesting addition back up.”

The bustle of noise from the medics
could be heard down the hall.

“Mr. Anastas, I’m going to need you
to lay her down gently then step away and
leave the bathroom. The medics are here
and need room.”

Calix looked to the officer and the
medics at the door. He laid Anya back down
and left the bathroom as the medics came
in.

“She’s pregnant, please, just help
her.”
“Mr. Anastas, this way, sir.”

Officer Curtis lead Calix away from
the bathroom as the medics rushed and
worked on Anya to get her stable enough to
transport to the hospital. Walking into the
living room, he had Calix sit on the sofa for
questioning.

“Okay, Mr. Anastas, I need you to tell
me everything that happened. Or you can
just start on how you got that bruised
hand? Did you fight off an attacker?”

Shock and the drugs were starting
to wear off completely. Calix looked down
and saw the scratches on his chest, and he
began to feel the throbbing pain coming
from his hand.
What the hell happened?
he
thought. As he was about to answer, Calix
watched as the two medics rushed Anya
out the door on a red backboard strapped
to a gurney.

“Can I do this later, I want to ride
with her?”

“Mr. Anastas, sir, I need you to
answer these questions first. We also need
some photos of your injuries.”

Calix had had enough of this shit. He
didn’t know happened or how it happened.
All he knew was that he was going that
hospital now unless this prick of a cop was
going to arrest him.

“Look, Officer…”
“Curtis,” the officer curtly replied.

“My fiancé is on the way to the
hospital, she’s pregnant, and I have no
fucking idea what happened. So, unless you
are going to arrest me, I am going to the
fucking hospital now.” He was standing in
front of the officer now. His fear for Anya
having turned into anger. Officer Curtis
step back and gave Calix a little room; he
did not want this to get confrontational.
The scene was already bloody, and it would
mean a lot more paperwork for him.

“No, Mr. Anastas, not at this moment
but I need to tell you this looks very bad for
you. You need to understand that. So how
about we have an officer follow you to the
hospital you can get looked over there and
we can get pictures then.”

“Fine, good were done here.” Calix
walked over to the counter where his cell
phone sat and made a call to his uncle.

“Si.” Came a grumpy groggy voice of
Vito.

Because his house was swarming
with police Calix spoke only in Italian.
“Uncle, I have an emergency. I need you
now.”

The sound of Calix’s voice, and the
multiple voices he could hear in the
background woke him up completely, and
he sat up and started to get out of bed and
dress as they spoke. “What is it?”

“Anya came back. She forgave me.
She’s also pregnant.”
“What? What is going on? Are those
cops in the background?”

“Yes, Anya and I had dinner, we
made love, then went to sleep. Next thing I
know, I’m waking up to someone pounding
on the door. I turned to look at Anya, but
she wasn’t in the bed. I tried to get up, but I
felt sick to my stomach, and my head
pounded, and I couldn’t walk without
stumbling. As I got up, I saw part of Anya
on the bathroom floor. I ran to her.” Calix
had to stop and take in a steadying breath.
This was the time for strength not
weakness. “She was covered in blood,
barley breathing. I don’t know what
happened. I have scratch marks all over
me, and my hand looks like I’ve been
punching steel.”

“Holy fucking shit! Calix don’t say
anything to anyone, do you hear me?
Nothing. I am on my way. This smells dirty,
Calix. Someone has set you up. I’ll make
calls. Don’t worry, we will handle this. No
one fucks with the Anastas family.”

“The cop is asking me questions. I
know how it looks, and I know he thinks I
did it. He tried to keep me from leaving and
going to the hospital. But he’s not charging
me yet, so I’m going to wash this blood off
and head to the hospital you can meet
there.”

“Fine.”

Calix walked back into his bedroom,
which was teaming with cops taking
pictures and bagging what looked like one
of their steak knives.

Oh God was she stabbed? No don’t
think, dress and leave,
he told himself.

The room looked like a tornado had
hit it. There was broken glass everywhere,
things were smashed, and thrown all over.
He ignored what he saw and went to his
closet to get some clothes. When he was
exiting the guest bath, Officer Curtis caught
him by the arm.

“Mr. Anastas, I’ll need to know
where you will be in the hospital, so I can
get an official statement. So, when you are
done with the doctors, please call me at this
number.” Officer Curtis reached out and
handed Calix a business card with his other
hand.

“Fine now let go of me,” Calix
growled and left the building, driving like a
bat out of hell to the hospital.