The Complete Contract Series (17 page)

Stormy

I follow Selena and I notice people part out of our way. I am sure it is due to the fact she is the owner’s girlfriend.

We make our way to the bar and I order a margarita and a shot of Patron. As stereotypical as it is to order tequila in a Latin American establishment, I know the drinks will be off the charts good. I slam the Patron down and order another shot before he begins making the margarita.

“Damn girl, you’re trying to get your buzz on aren’t you? I’ve got something better than that,” Selena says.

I find myself being pulled along as soon as I grab my drink and slam the other shot down. This girl is in a hurry.

“Hey hold on I have to pay for that.”

“Your money is no good here, come on.”

I find myself almost running behind her to keep up. The slutty stripper heels I’m wearing are foreign to me. I’m doing good to walk in them, much less run. She ducks down a hallway and around a corner that leads to a door which has a name plate that says: ‘Diva’.

“Membership has its privileges,” she chuckles.

“I see,” I state, as I stare in awe of the private dressing room/bathroom we now inhabit. The room we are standing in is decorated flamboyantly in red, black, and gold colors. A black leather couch with an ornate golden coffee table in front of it sits against the wall at one end of the room. To the side there is rack of clothing that looks more like what would be worn in a strip club rather than a social hangout. A long counter with a huge lit-up mirror covers one whole wall. It is lined with expensive make-up brands, colognes, and even wigs neatly placed on it.

She locks the door and pulls a vial from the small clutch she carries and begins spreading out lines on the coffee table with a credit card she also has stashed in her clutch. The card looks like it serves dual purposes due to the fact that the fine white powder is evident on its black facing.

“What is that?” I ask, but I already know the answer.

I watch as she rolls up a bill and snorts the whole line up with ease.

“It’s the best fucking grade of cocaine available anywhere. Why else would I stay with that crazy mother fucker Diego?”

Miller

“He’s back” was all I said and I had Diego’s full attention.

“That crazy mother fucker worries me. Anyone who kills for sport and not money isn’t right in the head.”

“He was crazy when we were in Iraq, I answer.”

“Well, being crazy at war is one thing, but bringing that mindset back to the states is unacceptable. Business is business, Miller, but just killing for sport takes it to serial killer status.”

“Has he killed anyone yet?”

“Tortured some junkie and her pimp.”

“Do you know why?”

“Retribution—what else? He is a full-blown vigilante.”

“The streets aren’t safe as long as he is on them.”

“The streets aren’t safe with any of us on them. None of us have been truly right in the head since we came back; he is just full-blown crazy.”

“This stays between us. Even if he is dead wrong, we don’t turn him in. Like it or not Diego, we are all bound by blood.”

“Yeah, I know, but is hard to watch the news about a serial killer running rampant and not be able to say anything when you know who it is.”

“Doesn’t matter—like I said…Bound. By. Blood.

Stormy

My mood is great as we exit the club and get in the car we’re laughing and hanging onto each other in lover’s bliss, and then…

As soon as we get in the car, his fingers clench so roughly on my chin that I’m certain there will be bruising if he doesn’t stop squeezing. Tears stream down my face as I’m crying out for him to stop and though the valet clearly sees what is going on, he purposely turns his back ignoring what Miller is presently doing to me.

Is everyone scared of this man or is this just him turning a blind eye due to some street code?

“How much of that fucking coke did you do?”

“None! I don’t do drugs.”

He is jerking my head back so hard that it won’t go back any further as he looks up my nose for evidence of me lying to him.

“Don’t fuck with me, Stormy; you won’t like what you see if you do. Anytime you’re presented with doing drugs, just remember what your ex did to you. You have no idea the kind of people I deal with. They would think nothing of drugging you and sending you into white slavery—not to mention you could O.D. on something. Don’t think I won’t have you tested. We did it for sex and I’ll damn sure do it for drugs. If it doesn’t come from your doctor, you better not fucking take it. You can drink if you watch it being prepared, but you better not willingly partake of street drugs. You have no idea what punishment is until you cross the line with me. Up until this point, it has been play. Do you understand me?”

“How could I not?” I wiggle my chin when he jerks his hand away and wipe the tears from my eyes with the back of my hand as I stare out the window at the useless piece of shit valet who didn’t intervene.

I hear tires squeal as Miller takes off and for the first time since being with him, I’m contemplating how to get away from a killer…

I make my way into
my
condo and head for a spare bedroom. I have no intentions of sleeping with him. What was I thinking? I want him out of my life. Suddenly being holed up in my residence alone sounds like a good idea to me.

Now I’m faced with the question of ‘just how dangerous is this guy?’ How could I have been so stupid to fall into this fantasy? Maybe being locked away in my condo for too many years has affected my decision making process.

I’m so stupid, if I wanted a fantasy, I could have read a damn book, but no, I had to go to the extreme of falling for a killer. I just need time to think away from him. I hope he will leave me alone and give it to me. I just want a shower and a bed and tomorrow I will get back to my old, boring, life…

Miller

Damn that girl. She has no idea how crazy things can get over a simple mistake. Not that doing drugs is to be taken lightly, but that is my point: if a simple mistake can get people killed, a major mistake can have detrimental consequences—not to mention the fallout after the fact.

I turn the TV on to get my mind off of this woman who I am now wishing I didn’t care about. What the hell was I thinking getting involved romantically with a woman? I was doing better when there weren’t any emotional ties and I just randomly fucked different women every night. Now I doubt my dick will get hard for anyone else and I have no desire to find out. She has me twisted and I don’t like it one damn bit!

The voice of the news anchor cuts through my thoughts.

A single signature black rose was left on local pimp’s body. Viewers may recall last week the death of a local drug addicted prostitute—the ironic thing being that these two deaths are connected. It has been confirmed by local authorities that this was her pimp and the two were allegedly robbing customers by having the woman lead them back to a hotel where the pimp would then beat and rob them.

The screen is then switched back to the station where the news anchor begins with a story of a local veterinarian who will be offering discounted spay and neutering to try and alleviate the problem of too many strays in the city.

What the fuck do those two things have to do with each other?

I know I need to go and talk to that woman of mine in the other room, but I honestly don’t know what to say. I’m not used to relationships. I have purposely avoided them for years. War in Iraq fucked my head up and I just disconnected from anyone but my brothers in arms. They understand me and I understand them. I don’t have to work at connecting to them because we are bound by blood, guts, and the horrors of war. I’m not used to talking things through with a woman. For years I have done nothing but fuck them and forget them

I had two rules: Never fuck a woman more than once and never kill one. The woman in the other room—my woman—made me break one of those rules the minute I fell into her sky-blue eyes. It isn’t just the matter of conflicted feelings either; she knows too much. I warned her when she got involved with me it would be for life and I know she is having second thoughts about me being here.

I honestly don’t know how to deal with this. I’m a man who knows how to deal with everything but her. I need a good night’s sleep and a clear head, I will deal with this in the morning.