23. Frankie
Chapter 23
Frankie
A s I step down from the bus, it’s dark and eerily silent. I stretch after being cramped on a bus for the last hour and a half ... okay, so that’s not long but it’s fucking long enough.
Someone is definitely keen because my phone chimes with a text and it’s really fucking early or late depending on how you look at it. I take my phone out to scroll through the messages and debate what to do.
Sex God: Tonight, same time?
I sigh as I keep reading the texts … I am not going. I can’t. Not now feelings are involved. I need to shut this shit down and fast! This is getting too fucking serious for me, and it’s only going to end badly especially if he doesn’t feel the same.
Sex God: DON’T BE LATE!
My pussy pulses when I think about what he would do to me when I eventually turn up, and I know if I don’t go this time he’ll be pissed.
Me: Busy with work and can’t make it. Maybe another time.
I exhale as I hit send, and I wait for the response, but I get nothing. It’s easier that way as I have shit I need to get on with, and at least it proves that I was right. It’s only me that caught these fucking feelings.
When I get back, I’ll speak to Tony and see if there is another room I can use, maybe then I won’t bump into him.
Sliding my phone into my back pocket, I make tracks down the side of the road. From what I read, this guy, whom I decided to call the doomed motherfucker, lives in one of the trailer parks and as there aren’t many about, it shouldn’t be too hard to spot.
My feet crunch along the dirt track as I get closer to the doomed motherfucker. I passed a sign for Philly Park about five minutes ago, but there doesn’t seem to be much around apart from a single bar, which is closed, and a gas station. But that will work to my advantage as it’ll be less people to spot me come and go.
Yes! I find the entrance and locate trailer 181983, and it appears that he is still awake. A light is still on inside and his shadow is stumbling around. Finally, something is going my way. I head to the door and my phone starts to ring. Fuck! I forgot to switch it to fucking silent. I snatch it from my pocket, flicking it to silent mode, and see Nicolas is actually calling me.
I turn my phone off, but I can’t help wanting to know what he wanted, but now isn’t the time. I have more important things to do, I have to ignore these fucking butterflies and get to work. I try to navigate my way to the door, stepping over all the junk in the small yard. There’s trash everywhere, and I jump when a rat scurries across the floor. Fuck, this place is a shit hole!
Shoving my phone back in my pocket, I tap on the door of the trailer, making a mental note of the surroundings. It appears to be the only one around with the others set back from this one.
“What?” A guy answers, but his demeanor changes when he sees me leaning against the railings.
“Hey, handsome.” I twirl the bottom of the black bob I’m sporting, which is itchy as fuck.
“Hey, yourself. What’s a pretty girl like you doing out at this time of the morning?” He leans his head out the door, looking around. “And on your own too.”
I smile sweetly. “Honestly, I’m a little embarrassed. I was at the bar earlier, but I was too nervous to speak to you, so I … well, I followed you.” I giggle. “It’s taken me all this time to find the courage just to knock on your door.” I dip my head down and roll my eyes as the guy in front of me falls for it.
“You did, huh? You like what you see?” His chest puffs out as he pulls a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and lights one up, smoke clouding my face.
Yuck! This guy looks a mess with his balding head, stained white wife beater, and tatty blue jeans, that are being held up with braces, are not attractive to me in the slightest, but he buys I'm interested.
His pudgy cheeks and veiny purple nose scrunch up as he smiles at me, showing his yellow smoke-stained teeth.
“Why don’t you come on in, darling?” He pushes the door open, and it clatters against the stair railings.
“If you’re sure, I don’t want to intrude?” I bite on my bottom lip and flutter my eyelashes at him.
“Oh, I’m sure, darling.” He flicks his cigarette over my head. The amber ashes from it sprinkle down … son of a bitch. He’ll pay for that. This wig if highly fucking flammable.
I climb the steps and enter, the smell of stale beer and smoke hits me, and I feel instantly sick.
“Can I get you something to drink?” he asks, swiping the litter cluttering the sides on to the floor to make room for the glasses he just got from the sink.
“I’m good, thank you.” I walk over to him and place my hands on his back. I need to get this done and quickly. I can’t stay in here a minute longer than I have to.
“Oh, someone’s eager. Not so shy now, are we?” He turns around and winks at me.
I smile as I think to myself … Fran, you’re fucking awesome!
I knee him in the balls, and he folds over, screaming in pain and shouting what a bitch he now thinks I am. To be honest, I think he’s changed his tune pretty damn quickly. It wasn’t five minutes ago he let a stranger in to his home because he wanted a quick fuck. He obviously hasn’t heard of stranger danger.
“Now, now, there’s no need to be rude. Remember you wanted to fuck me five minutes ago. You should be more careful about who you let into your home.” I smile at him as I shove his head against the corner of the table, causing him to lose consciousness temporarily.
There’s the accidental death ‘look’ taken care of. Now for the actual death part.
I stand as I look for a cushion and see one on the bed. Bringing it with me, he groans as I turn him over to his back. “This is a message from the Romanos … you should have paid.” I cock my brow as I watch realization hit him.
“They sent you?” His voice is weak and raspy.
“Yes, darling. Yes, they did.” I smile as I push the cushion against his face and hold tight until the light fades from his eyes.
I love that part the most; watching someone’s life leave them is truly amazing. I haven’t found anything to compare it to until … no don’t even fucking think about him.
Sighing at how ridiculous I am, I throw the cushion on the floor and turn him face down onto it. Rising to my feet, I wipe my hands on my jeans and scan the place.
Yep, a job well done. Now all I have to do is sit through another hour and a half journey home … fuck’s sake.