Trig (Nine and Trig Book 2)

Chapter 2. Entertain The Devil

As I watch Mya sleep, I question myself about my ability to be a good father, and nothing makes me doubt it more than right before a long flight and a brutal string of all-night killings. I’m a hitman, once again caught in the spiderweb of good old Las Vegas, but I’m also a hardworking father raising an innocent daughter. I somehow, despite everything, expect her to grow into a decent person. To be good. To do good. I clearly am no shining example of that, but rather, a walking hypocrite. An imposter. I never want her to know anything about what I do, but I’m worried that soon it will become an issue. She’s growing older by the second and becoming more aware and that concerns me. There are way too many questions coming from her and I’m lying my way through them all. In my head, I can’t be a hero to her if I’m also a villain. The internal struggle weighs on me. I gently sit down on the bed next to her, being careful not to wake her.

“Baby girl, if you only knew the things I do. If you saw me do them, you’d scream. You’d run. You’d fear me. I just want you to know that in the end, everything I do or have done is for you and Momma. I hope one day, you both will forgive me for these lies.”

I brush my thumb over Mya’s tiny hand, and then I lean in and kiss her forehead. I never know if this will be the last time I see her, and that pains me. Mya, still deep asleep, slightly moves and kicks her stuffed animal off of the bed. I pick it up and place it next to her chest. I decide to leave quickly before she wakes and sees me, or she won’t let me leave at all. She’ll do how she always does. She’ll cling to my leg and beg me not to go. A few tears will drop, and that face… that face that looks so much like her mother will pull all the air out of my lungs. I exhale my frustrations out and stand up gently, being careful not to move the bed too much.

“May the Gods protect you until I return,” I whisper.

I quietly close Mya’s door and then I make my way down toward our bedroom where Nine lies asleep. I enter and stand beside the bed. Her blonde hair lies spread out across the black pillowcase. A white sheet covers part of her body, revealing just enough skin to make me want to climb back into bed with her. I’d rather stay here and feel the warmth of her skin against mine instead of mentally running down the list in my head of men whose blood is soon to run cold. I stare down at her, contemplating it just a little while longer. I decide against it, and instead, I turn to leave. I take but two steps when I hear her raspy voice.

“Where’re you going?” she mumbles, half asleep.

“I have an appointment,” I lie, as I turn back toward her while adjusting my black tie.

“With?” she pushes.

“New clients. I have an early flight out this morning to meet with them later this evening and then I’m on the first flight back and will be here tomorrow night. Don’t wait up.”

She looks at me, confused.

“Another appointment I know nothing about. Interesting. Where is this client and what do they need done?”

I walk over to the bed and sit down next to her. The red hair is gone, but that temper of hers sure isn’t. I grab her hand and kiss the top of it like a gentleman.

“I received an email late last night. These clients are pretty fucking wealthy based on what they’ve told me, and they offered to fly me out to Seattle to go over this very detailed itinerary. I told them we could handle everything online or by phone, but they insisted on a face-to-face meeting. I tried to book two tickets but I booked the last seat.”

“Hmmm. Seems like you always seem to book that one last ticket.”

She looks at me with one eyebrow raised. It’s almost a trademark when she’s pissed.

“That’s a real nice suit you have on to meet up with photo clients. I’d almost think you were killing again.” She chuckles.

I remain calm and return the chuckle.

“That’s really funny. We’d be stupid to miss a shoot like this. It’s for their daughter’s wedding. He’s some CEO motherfucker. She’s some influencer. I guess she’s coming to Fiji in a few months and they just want to get everything squared away now, but they seem to have very exhaustive requirements that they’d like to discuss in person. This is big cash, baby. They even mentioned you in conversation. Said they loved that shoot you did for faze2flex brand.”

“So, if they mentioned me, why don’t I go, and you can stay here.”

I stare at her as I let my hand graze her hip.

“I don’t trust you all alone with some strange billionaire.”

She leans back. “What do you think will happen? That he’ll seduce me?”

I lean over and kiss the curve of her hip. I stare into her eyes as my lips travel up her body. Distraction is key here.

“I know what you’re doing. It won’t work. I’ll get a sitter. Janice from the restaurant is great. She’s watched Mya before. I’ll just call her to see if she’s available, and then if so, we can both go. I’m sure I can find a separate flight out there, even if it’s later today.”

“No,” I calmly say.

“No?” she repeats. “And why not?”

I push my hand under the sheet and then up her bare thigh. I hear a soft moan escape her lips when I reach her pussy. I gently pet the cat and watch Nine purr. God. She’s so hot when she locks eyes with me. She wants to be mad, but she can’t, not when her body is reacting to the very thing she loves. My fingers travel down the smooth line between her folds and then I massage her clit until her cat salivates for me. I slip my middle finger eagerly inside of her and watch as she pushes back against the pillow. With my free hand, I push the sheet clean off of the bed and wait for her full eye contact again. I know she likes to watch, so I slow it down for her. I take my wet finger out of her pussy and slide it in my mouth, slowly sucking her salty taste off my skin. When I’m done, I release a low satisfying growl.

“Your um…signature taste is going to be in my mouth all day, and no matter what I do or who I see today, you’re going to be all I think about.” I pause. “To be honest, I kind of want to torture myself with it all. Ya know, the whole absence makes the dick get harder quote, or whatever that saying is.”

“For your information, the quote is…absence makes the heart grow fonder.” She smirks.

“Dick. Heart. Same shit. It’s all yours.” I mischievously grin. “Look. Anyways. When tomorrow is over and I come home, I want you ass-naked on this bed, willing to submit to every fucking thing that I command you to do. The very thought of that makes me hard right now and that is why you can’t go.”

“Because of your absent dick and heart quote, I can’t go? I smell bullshit.”

“I mean that, and the fact that Mya’s end-of-year play practice is tonight.”

“Oh shit! I forgot about that. I mean she can miss one practice. I can even bring her with me if Janice can’t watch her. Let me get up and see what I can plan. One way or another, I’m coming.”

I look at her and then slowly shake my head no.

She squints her eyes out of annoyance.

“You’re coming all right, Nine. Just not on a plane.” I quickly grab both of her thighs, pull her in closer to my face, and then dive down between her legs, inhaling the aroma before I taste her. That little ass of hers is staying here, out of danger, and away from my nightmare, safely, where she needs to be. She will stay here, even if it means I have to eat, lick, or fuck her into submission. I pause for a minute.

“On the real. As much as I want you with me, you know it’s extremely dangerous to fly to the states with our history. To get through, I’m using altered documents and fake fingerprint tips. I’ll take that risk for us any day, but I want you and Mya here safely. After this trip, I’m done,” I truthfully say.

She finally nods in acceptance.

“Okay. I love you. I trust you. I’ll stay.” She pauses. “If, before you go, you do that little thing I like,” she says.

I stare down at my watch and then back up to her, calculating the time I have until this flight.

“Open your legs…wider… and don’t move,” I gently command.

I’m prepared to deliver soul-snatching, stay the fuck right her type sex this morning, and the way she’s looking at me right now means trouble. I reach into my back pocket and pull out my knife. I whip the sharp blade out and run it slowly and carefully up her right outer thigh. The cold steel makes her moan. I gently push her left leg down and rest my head on one of her thighs while eating her out. My head is cocked to the side, tongue devouring her, while I gently run the blade up and down her right inner thigh now. Her chest heaves in excitement, maybe even a little fear. The sensation…turns her on. Her reaction…turns me on. I put the knife down next to her and rise up on my knees, ripping off my tie. She sits up and then flips me over to where she’s on top of me. She picks up the knife and puts it to my neck as she unzips my pants, pulls my dick out, and then slowly slides herself down on me. I grab her wrist that’s still holding the knife and bring it up to my tongue gently licking the flat side of the blade. She moans while watching and then begins to slow-ride me. I yank the knife away from her and toss it to the floor. I then flip her over to where I’m on top. This dangerous game of foreplay has got to be every hitman’s fantasy.

I quickly stare down at my watch one last time. I’ll definitely be missing my flight. Fuck it. Vegas can wait. When I’m done with her, I guarantee she won’t want to leave this bed, and even if she does, she won’t be walking right.

***

I can already feel the flames as I touch down in hell, I mean, Vegas. I’m now en route, bee-lining this bitch, ready to close out another contract. One that honestly could have been given to anyone else, but it seems my brother Hunter’s death is the gift that keeps on giving. I let out a long breath and remind myself what is at stake here. In doing that, I begin to lose focus, distracted by my thoughts of Nine. I can’t fight it. My mouth still vaguely tastes like her and her scent is lingering all over me. I grip down on the steering wheel, forcing myself to refocus, but there is something in the air today. My brain wanders off toward her again. This time it’s not sexual. It’s my conscience reminding me that I’ve been dishonest. I tell myself to just shut the fuck up and drive. Being a killer was easy when she wasn’t with me. I had no one to answer to, nothing to live for, but things have changed. I can’t keep dodging her questions or making up lies just to be gone for days. She’s getting suspicious. She’s a smart girl. It’s only a matter of time before this bomb explodes and the building that is my life comes crashing down on me. I can’t think about this shit. I need a clear head. I have thirty perfect minutes to execute this murder, and honestly, I only need five to do it, if all slides into place.

“Put your head in the game, Trig,” I mumble.

It’s dark by the time I pull up to the spot. I turn off my headlights, park across the street and start to survey the area. It’s a commercial building with dim lighting and a vacant parking lot. I pick up my phone and start skimming through the encrypted contract file of the target. There is no room for error. I stare at his picture to embed it in my mind before scanning the rest of his information. His name is Gary Moss. Dark hair and brown eyes. Fifty years old. Height, five-foot-ten. Building Passcode 9435#. Third floor. Office, end of hall. One hundred and ninety-five pounds. He runs the largest public U.S. real estate company and they own a majority of the malls in America. Lately, he has started up a new hobby. He now dabbles in human trafficking and a little drug action, which involves the movement of cocaine from Columbia to the States. He’s been stepping on toes all over Vegas, and Carmen is not very tolerant of the way he does business. This here is a kill-the-competition type contract.

I exit the car, put on a black cap, and then slide on my black leather gloves, run up to the side of the building, and enter through the security door using his file passcode. I head up toward the third floor using the staircase. Once I reach my destination, I quietly open and close the stairwell door and then proceed down the long hallway. I can hear the distant sound of a keyboard just clicking away. I follow the noise which leads me right to him. There he is, sitting at his desk with his head bent down staring at a piece of paper. He looks up once he sees me enter his office.

“The building is closed. You’re not supposed to be in here.”

I don’t say anything. Instead, I slowly walk toward him. He sits up straight when he notices my gun. I screw on the silencer while staring at him.

“Who sent you?” he grunts out, and frowns as he removes his glasses. “What do you want?”

“I think you know,” I finally respond. “You know exactly why I’m here.”

He panics and reaches toward a drawer beside him. Typical response. Very few of these guys surprise me. The gun is always in a drawer, a nightstand, under their pillow, or under a desk. I rush him and slam the drawer shut before he gets his hand inside. There’s a brief scuffle before I quickly place my gun to his head. He freezes in place, hands up, still in his chair. The position of his body is just the right angle to make it look like a suicide.

“Stop!” he yells. “There’s money in the floorboard under this chair. Take it all. Just fucking leave. Jesus Christ.”

“Jesus won’t save you today, friend. Nor will money. This is the end of the road.”

I fire one single shot into the side of his temple. Instantly he slumps sideways in his chair. I take out a plastic bag of antidepressants from my pocket and open the drawer he previously reached for. Inside lies a gun, just as I thought. I pocket the gun and throw the bag of pills in there. I pull out a typed-up suicide note, press his fingers all over it, and then throw it on the desk. The note lists reasons why he can’t go on and how he wishes things were different. Lastly, I take the gun I killed him with and place it in his hand, wrapping his fingers around it before I let it fall next to him. I quickly turn to leave the office and then exit the building the same way I came in. Once in my car, I send a quick text to Carmen to let him know the job is complete.

Me: Our cat died. I just buried him.

Instantly a reply comes through.

Carmen: I’m sorry for your loss. I send my condolences. I insist you come over tonight. I’m holding a little gathering and I think you could use the cheering up after today. I have a gift for you as well.

An agitated expression marks my face as I read his text. I need to get back to Fiji. I don’t have time or energy for his games.

Me: Thanks, but I’ll have to decline the offer. I think I’ll just stay home and grieve.

I grit my teeth as I see his name pop up on my screen.

Carmen: I said, I insist. No one should grieve alone. You have plenty of friends here. Dress to impress and don’t be late, or I’ll send my best to drag you here.

Fucking psycho. He’s not joking when he says that. His bandwagon full of nutjob workers are like mental patients on bath salts with machetes. I’ve never in my life seen people who can switch off their sadistic sides with the tip of a hat like these functional freaks can. It’s unnerving.

I yell as I toss my phone onto the passenger seat and start up the car. Something terrible is going to happen tonight. I can feel it in my bones. It always does with Carmen, but I have no choice. With full regret, I drive toward his house, which is about an hour away. His lifestyle is about as cliché as can be. He lives in a mansion, the typical drug dealer’s home. They all come equipped with oversized pools, several cocaine-snorting bathrooms, and living rooms large enough to pack in high-paid escorts. I’ve had my fair share of run-ins with plenty of these guys. Most drug dealers are overcompensating for their lack of formal education and class with the whole ‘look at all the shit I have’. Take a look at me. Big guns and big dick energy. Same shit, a different day. Whatever. I pull up, exhale, and then exit the car. Five bodyguards approach me.

“Look who finally made it. Big badass Trig. Did you come for the money or pussy tonight? Oh, wait! Did you even get permission from Nine to be here? Does she know? Of course she doesn’t. Maybe I should give her a call and say hi.” Vega chuckles, as another guy searches me.

I remain quiet. I’m not engaging this asshole. Vega is the type of man that pisses everyone off on purpose, and he loves it. He’s like a reduced-calorie version of Carmen. Fucker is probably next in line to take over. He confiscates two weapons and a knife from me. “You know the routine. You can have these back when you leave.”

“Yup,” I reply, as I attempt to walk by. Vega blocks my path just to be a dick. We’re now toe-to-toe. I tilt my head back and stare at him. The other guys here circle us. “Do we have a problem?” I ask.

Vega leans into my face as dramatic as he can be.

“Enjoy yourself in there,” he says.

I remain quiet as Vega backs up and the others clear the path and finally let me through. This little performance was just him throwing his weight around. Big man on campus type shit. Show off if you want, Vega. I’m not here for any of it. I take the short winding trail up to the mansion that has a million tall glass windows. I can see girls in bikinis dancing for a few men inside. I open the front door, step in, and look around for a minute. Two girls immediately approach me.

“Not interested,” I quickly say, looking past them.

“Come on, baby. We can both please you.”

I stare at the tall redhead with her hand on my cock. The brown-haired woman next to her is biting her lip while twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

“I said I’m not interested. Fuck off.”

She releases me, rolls her eyes and they both walk away talking shit.

I take a quick left to where Carmen usually hangs out. I immediately hear his demonic laugh echoing down the hall. It sounds like he’s grinding up bones when he chuckles. I follow the sound until I reach his rec room. A bunch of his boys are scattered outside with several women. A man named Mickey I’ve encountered before sits slouched on a stool next to the door. He quickly notices me and then nods for me to go inside. Once I step in, I see that Carmen has some young white chick in a pink miniskirt up on the pool table. The girl has her legs loosely wrapped around his waist, and one tit is hanging out from her bikini top. His fingertips are grazing her nipple while they stare into each other’s nonexistent souls. For fuck’s sake. Another Mexican girl is topless and hugging him from behind while kissing his neck. I clear my throat to get his attention.

“Trig, I was just thinking about you,” he says, not breaking eye contact with the miniskirt chick.

“Given what you’re doing right now with her, that’s super creepy to hear. Look, I’m here as requested. I did my job. Your car and your weapons will be left exactly where I picked ‘em up, like usual. Now I need to leave. Just wire my shit like normal people do.”

He remains quiet and instead turns to the girl behind him. He strokes her cheek.

“I can’t keep coming to Vegas. It’s dangerous enough to go through any U.S. airports. I’ve done everything you asked me to do up until now. It’s over, right? You have local guys that can do these contracts. This is just punishment. Let’s put this petty shit aside. We’ve all gotten our hands dirty in this process.”

“We have booze, pretty girls, and time is on our side,” he says, smiling at the Mexican girl.

“I don’t think you heard me, Carmen. I got stuff—”

“You have nothing,” he barks out, as he finally turns to look at me. In this light, his eyes look black as night. Fucking demon, I swear. A few seconds pass and he returns his gaze to the frightened girl in front of him. He smiles and then he pulls her into him. He turns toward the girl on the pool table, grips her chin in his other hand, and moves her head to look at me. “Do you like my friend, sweetheart?” The girl nods without hesitation. “Trig, close that door and lock it behind you.”

I briefly close my eyes and tilt my head back. I know what he’s asking. He grabs his beer off the pool table and takes a swig. He’s now looking back and forth at both of us. I make a stand.

“This is not my type of party. I’m out,” I say, as I start to leave.

“I said close the fucking door,” he yells.

I swing around.

“I’m not doing this. I’m not taking part in whatever sick shit this is.” My tone is clear.

“Oh, you are and you will, because if you don’t, my cousin in Fiji will take that gorgeous little daughter you have, and it’ll be tonight. He’ll groom and train her for the next couple of years to be the best little slut money can buy. There will be so many drugs pumped into her that if you ever accidentally find or meet her; you won’t even recognize her. When she’s ready, her going bid on the black market will be high. Trig, do you know how much young pretty virgins are worth nowadays? Do you? It’s lucrative. I’ll say that.”

I step forward, anger coursing through my veins, ready to snap his neck. He grins at me.

“Don’t even think about it. As you may have noticed, I have many men strapped with heat just outside this door and I have cameras everywhere. Eyes have been on you since you walked in. If you want to bring fists to a gunfight, you’re welcome to, but you won’t make it out of here alive.”

I don’t look up because I already know two cameras are in this room. I spotted them last time I was here. I stop in my tracks, breathing hard, filled with rage. I want to paint the walls of this room with his blood. I remind myself that this is a chess game, and strategy wins over everything. His death must take place at the right time for my family’s survival. He continues talking and I’m shaking in anger, one step away from biting off his face.

“Those men outside will rush in, fill you with lead, find, rape, and maybe even kill your woman, Nine, and then steal and prostitute Mya. If that isn’t clear enough to you, maybe this is. I have a really nice picture of little Mya from today. Right here on my phone.” He holds up his phone to show me. I shake my head and look away. I can hear the grin in his voice. “If you’re a smart man, as I know you are, you’ll calm down and play the game. It’s simple. Play by the rules and after this; you are more than welcome to go home. You’re done here. I’ll never ask you to come back to Vegas after today. All you have to do is close that door.”

I beat down all my instincts and swallow my pride as I walk over and shut that fucking door.

“Good boy, Trig.” He stares at the white girl. “Go ahead, baby. Show daddy what I like,” he urges, while pushing her toward me.

She comes over and rubs my chest while my arms stay stuck at my sides in an attempt to rebel. I’m still throwing eye-daggers into Carmen while he stands there smiling like a creepy kid in a horror movie. He’s started a game within games and he loves it. This is what gets him the fuck off. Tapping into your fears. He’ll box you in and watch you attempt to claw your way out. He eyes me as I struggle with the small remnant of morals I have left. Once again, I look off to the side, lost in my thoughts. I may just get to leave here with no consequences. It’ll be done, but if Nine ever finds out about this, what do I say to her? Hey babe, I fucked Carmen’s play toy for the sake of our family. No. I can’t do this, but on the flip side, if I don’t follow through with this, Nine becomes his bitch and Mya becomes a statistic in a sex ring. The woman now in front of me grabs my dick and starts to massage it outside my pants. I look at her, realizing she can’t be but maybe twenty-one.

“You don’t have to do this,” I grunt out.

She softly kisses my neck and then her lips travel up higher until she is nibbling on my ear.

“He’ll kill me if I don’t,” she whispers.

We both pull away and look at each other. Suddenly, Carmen slams a bottle of Vodka down on the pool table between us.

“Are you two going to sweet talk each other all night or am I gonna get a show?” he mocks.

We both turn our heads and stare at him uncomfortably. He nods to the bottle. The girl quickly opens it, downs as much as she can in one breath, and hands it to me. I do the same and then I slam the bottle down as a fuck you statement to Carmen. With shaky hands, she grabs at my belt buckle. I grab her hands to stop her. She shakes her head as a warning, and then she pushes my hands away. I let my arms drop as she unzips my pants and puts her hand through the opening. Out of pure reaction, I step back.

“Don’t be a pussy about this, Trig. All this is for you. This is your reward. You act as if you don’t want the gift I have for you, and that is highly offensive.” Carmen takes his gun out of his waistband, walks over, and points it at the girl’s head.

“Woah. Wait a minute. Stop!” I shout.

“Get down on your knees and suck it, you little whore.” He looks at her and then back to me, pauses, and then starts hysterically laughing. “Is this what I need to do to get everyone’s attention? No one is leaving this room until I see some action. What the fuck am I paying you bitches for? Get him hard.”

The Mexican girl backs away into a corner while the girl in front of me falls to her knees. Carmen then starts singing in Spanish while waving his gun around like a lunatic. The tension and anxiety in this room is at an all-time high and he wants me to fuck under these conditions. I’ll be lucky to get an erection, let alone perform. Focus, Trig. No biggie. You’re just trying to save your family as well as this stranger”s life by doing the oddest thing ever, receiving oral from her. She takes my dick out, wraps her hand around it, and then strokes it a few times before putting it in her mouth. I’m feeling guilty and embarrassed and my dick is clearly showing it, because I can’t get hard to save my ass.

“The girl you’re in love with, Nine, is that her name?” the chick asks. I look down at her, confused. “I can be her.”

“You can never be her,” I instantly shoot back.

“For this, I can.”

There is desperation in her eyes and fear in her voice. I nod once, close my eyes, and try to block out everything, but it’s difficult. I focus hard and pretend Nine is pleasing me. In my mind, no one else is in this room but the two of us. I imagine the curve of her hips, the fullness of her breasts, and the softness of her ass. I remember the way she flips her hair to one side as she looks up at me and grins when she’s going down on me. Slowly but surely, I feel myself rising, and just like that, she became Nine in this impossible moment.

“That’s what I’m talking about. Now I want you to bend her over that pool table, play with her for a little, and then fuck her hard until you come inside her.”

I open my eyes and glare at Carmen as the girl on her knees pulls back.

“I know that look, Trig. Fantasizing about revenge, aren’t you? I like that. Nothing better than deep-rooted hatred. I can taste it in the air. Fuck yeah!”

He snickers and then calls for the other escort to get down on her knees and give him head. He points his gun at me and then waves it from me to the prostitute as a way of saying get back to business. I grab the girl by her arm and gently pull her up. She wipes her mouth as I step back. At this point, I’m tired of the games and disgusted that I’m participating in them. I just want this shit over with. I wait, dick in hand, as the girl lifts her skirt and slides down her panties. I don’t move fast enough and that pisses off Carmen.

He fires off a warning bullet into the wall behind us. The girl flinches as she pushes herself into my arms.

“I’m sorry about this. Forgive me,” I whisper in her ear.

I spin her around and roughly bend her over the pool table, reaching my hand between her legs, and playing down there until it’s wet enough. I grasp the back of her neck with one hand and enter her roughly and I don’t stop banging it out until I come inside of her. I’m breathing hard, pissed off, and worried that I just raw-dogged a random hooker to entertain the devil. My mind is spinning with a million thoughts. I put my dick away and turn to see Carmen has already come. His girl is wiping her face off with napkins. The woman I just anger-banged tries to pull herself off the table.

“Stay put,” he shouts at her. “You though. You can leave, Trig. Thank you for the show. I’ll contact you for the next job.”

Next job? What the fuck is he talking about? I just pornstar’d it up in this bitch to end this nightmare. This is over!

“You said I was done,” I say, gritting my teeth.

He snorts.

“I said you are done, here. You don’t have to come back to Vegas, but you still owe me. Business is barely back in line after you killed The Savior, which seriously fucked with my money, might I add. All kinds of deals went left and we can’t have chaos out here on the street under my name. You brought it on yourself, Trig. You and I both know it was supposed to end with Victor, but you got soft on Nine, and took shit a little too personal, and well…now I have to hold you accountable for that. Rules are rules. You’re lucky you’re still standing here. So, with that being said, your work now starts in Fiji. I hear there’s lots of potential there. Tourists looking to get high and get laid. So, I’m taking a gamble to see what profits it brings, and here’s the kicker…I bought a vacation home over there. Not too far from you.” His smile is so big I want to kick his teeth in. “Go home. Get some rest. I’ll be in touch…neighbor.”

He winks one eye, and then points to the door.

“No. Fuck this! I’m going to fucking kill you. You can count on that. Stay the fuck away from Fiji. Stay the fuck away from my family. I did what you requested and this is me telling you I am done and if you got a problem with that, go fuck yourself.”

Carmen looks at me, confused, and then he straightens his shirt.

“I’m just trying to figure out who the fuck you think you’re talking to. It seems to me that you have forgotten who’s in charge here. It could be the endorphins running wild or the liquor talking, so let me remind you of a few things, and what it is that I’m capable of. The only reason that you’re not dead yet is because I like you. You got this lingering romantic humble hero thing going on for you and that is rare in this field. The fact that you keep holding on to it is exciting, because I just want to destroy it. You entertain me, Trig. You always have, but I can’t have you acting out. What would people think?” He quickly walks over and aims his gun at the girl still bent over. I attempt to stop him, but he pulls another gun out and points it at me. I step back and throw my hands up. The poor girl begins to cry.

“You caused this. I told you to leave. You didn’t leave.” He fires one bullet into her head. I yell out as her body slips off the table to the floor. The other girl falls back in fear into the corner again. I’m now standing there in shock as a puddle of her blood surrounds my feet. I cover my mouth with both hands and let them slide down my face. She didn’t fucking do anything to warrant her death. She cooperated. We both did. “Follow instructions better or next time it will be Nine.”

Carmen walks out of the room with the other girl in hand, leaving me standing there. I can hear him laughing and telling a few men to go look at the mess I made. The room starts to spin and my heart is now banging against my chest. A cleaning crew of three men walk in, look at me and then down at the dead girl. One bends down to grab her.

“Don’t fucking touch her,” I snap.

The man squints at me and then slowly backs up.

“You wanna move this trash, go ahead. Be my guest.” He gestures with his hand out.

I bend down, toss the girl over my shoulder, and begin my trudge down the now busy hallway. A trail of her blood drips behind me, and the party attendees are looking at me as if I killed her. They part ways to let me pass. I glance up as I reach the exit door and Carmen catches my eye. He’s leaning against the upstairs rail, drink in hand as if nothing happened. The other girl is missing and I’m sure she won’t survive the night after what she’s seen. He grins and nods his head to me. I ignore him and quickly exit, making my way down the path to the men from earlier.

“I thought you were off duty. I didn’t know you were here for a contract,” one jokes.

I adjust the weight of her body as I move past them.

“You don’t want your weapons?”

“Keep ‘em. They’re yours anyway. Plus I won’t be back here. Ever.”

The men snicker as I walk away. I approach the car, pop open the trunk, and lay her inside. Two thoughts run through my mind as I stare down at her. One. I now have to go bury this poor young girl who is dead on my account. Two. She is filled with my DNA, and because of that, her body must never be found.

***

It’s late at night by the time I get back in town. I’m fried. The last kill contract, Carmen’s mind games, the dead girl, thoughts of future fuckery here in Fiji, and let’s not forget the two ten-hour flights in less than forty-eight hours that are causing me major burnout. I open the front door to see Nine sprawled out on the couch sleeping. Worry sets in when I see the room. It looks like she’s been doing more than a little investigating. She has paperwork spread out on the coffee table and all over the floor, and by the look of it she’s been at it since yesterday morning. I close the door as quietly as I can, but the sound of the lock clicking wakes her.

“Are you cheating on me?” she asks, as she sits up.

I’m not mentally prepared to deal with this after what just happened in Vegas. Last night wasn’t an affair. I literally had a gun to my head. It was a forced event. What do I even say at this point? How do I let that roll off the tongue without consequence? I want to come clean. This dishonesty between us is wrong. If circumstances were reversed, I’d want to know. I mean, I’m not saying I wouldn’t lose my shit, but I’d definitely want to know.

I entertain the idea of telling her the truth. I’d say that Carmen tracked us down from the damn bank video. I’d let her know that I’ve been doing contracts in Vegas again, because Carmen is a petty little bitch who wants to torture me for messing up the delicate drug ecosystem. I’d add that he could just kill me but instead he wants to play the whole ‘I will ruin everything you love’ game. I want to look into her eyes, kiss her, and tell her that I’m doing this all for her and Mya, but I can’t. At this point, it would sound ridiculous.

“I don’t want to have this conversation with Mya here.”

“Well, good thing she’s spending the night at her friend’s house. Now, answer the damn question.”

“Baby, look.”

“Don’t ‘baby’ me. I can’t take this anymore.”

She stands up, marches over, and starts inspecting me. I can barely look her in the eye.

“Who is she?” she asks, as she crosses her arms. Her lips are trembling.

“I’m not fucking around on you,” I respond.

She keeps looking at me as if she already knows something but is just waiting for me to say it.

“If you’re not messing around, then what the fuck is that?” She points to my neck. “You have a lipstick smudge right there. Who is she?”

Memories of last night flood in. After burying yet another secret, I went to my hotel room, washed the blood off my hands and face in the sink, changed clothes, and passed out for a bit. I jumped on the first plane home I could get, which was only a few hours later. At none of that time did I notice a lipstick stain on my neck. The urge to chain-smoke a whole carton of cigarettes kick in.

“It’s not what you think.”

“I knew it. You piece of shit. I’m here with you trying to live a normal life and be a good person. I’m still adjusting and learning how to do that, and you know. You know what I’ve been through and you want to do this to me.”

I just stand there unsure of what to say. I can’t tell her anything, because the moment she knows, she’ll want to save the day and fight back, or maybe even run, and there is no escaping Carmen. The new world operates with a camera lens attached, and thanks to social media you can no longer hide for very long. He found us once and he’ll find us again, and for that reason, we cannot run this time.

I lick my dry lips and stare at her. I can see her hands shaking, and as hard as this is, I have to let this play out. She starts to tear up. My silence is driving her pain. She quickly turns for the lamp and then yanks the cord out of the wall and throws it, just missing me. She starts grabbing random items off the table. First the remote, then her cell phone, and then a vase, and she just starts hurling them at me. I rush over and grab her. She’s fucking livid. She’s pushing me away, crying, and thrashing in my grip.

“Listen to me. I would never hurt you.”

“Fuck you, Trig. Fuck you and your lies. There were no clients in Seattle or New York or Miami or even Los Angeles. Let’s be real. I went through your phone records, bank statements, and emails. Not a fucking trace of any business meetings, I didn’t see any flight information, nor did I notice any bank transactions from any of those trips. You’ve been booking me jobs left and right to keep me busy and distracted. I feel so stupid. I trusted you.” She pauses shortly out of pure exhaustion. “I am standing here begging for your honesty. So please, for the love of God, don’t let one more lie spill from your lips. I want the truth. I want to hear you say it.”

My chest starts to tighten and without a second thought, I blurt it out. This is going to hurt her, and I’m sorry for it, but it’s safer than telling her about Carmen.

“Fine. Yes. I fucked somebody else.”

She stops moving in my arms, and life drains from her eyes.

“What did you say?”

“I said I fucked somebody else.”

She pushes away from me, and to my surprise, she starts to laugh. Her eyes hit the floor first and then they are immediately right back on me, and within seconds, she throws a right hook, hitting me square in my jaw. I nod because I deserve that. I massage my jaw as I step back and let her cool down.

“Who is she?” She stops. “No. Never mind. I don’t even want to know anymore. It doesn’t matter. You son of a bitch. Do you know how many nights I sat here worrying if you were okay when you headed back to the states? I stayed up late, scared for you, and here you are getting your rocks off with some bitch.” She pauses. “This is over. We are done. Me and Mya are gone. You will never see this other baby either.”

I shake my head at her. “I can’t let you do that.”

“Let? You no longer have a say in what I do.”

She walks past me and makes her way to our bedroom, slamming the door behind her. I run my hands down my face. The bomb has exploded. I repeat, the bomb has exploded. I sweep all my scattered thoughts into one messy pile and then I make my way over to the closed door. Fuck it. I’m telling her. This is making me crazy and I can’t operate like this.

“Nine, open the door,” I calmly demand.

“Eat shit,” she quickly responds.

“We need to talk. Please, open the door.”

“Go talk to the bitch you were with yesterday,”

She throws something against the door, which startles me.

“I can’t.” I pause. “She’s dead.”

That got her attention. The door swings open, and she stands there with tears flowing down her face.

“So, you gave her the good dick, and then you murdered her? I’d like to say that’s out of character for you, but I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

I look down at her right hand and now I know things are far from okay and I’m not sure if they ever will be.

“Is that a pair of scissors in your hand? Were you planning on stabbing me? What the fuck, Nine?” She gives me a half-ass shrug and looks away. “Give me those.” She hands them over in the most pissed-off fashion. She knows that was extreme. Even for her. I go to grab her arm but she pulls away. She’s fidgety and I can see her breaking down. Nine is tough, but when it comes to love, she is just as fragile as the next girl is, except she won’t be capable of handling this. Everything in me is screaming to tell her.

“Sit down. Let’s talk.”

“No. Obviously, you have zero respect for me. I clean for you. I cook for you. I take care of your kid. I fuck you good on the regular, or at least I thought I was good, and you go and break my heart. There is nothing to talk about.”

“God damn it. Just fucking let me talk,” I yell. My eyes spot an empty bottle of wine on the floor behind her. “You shouldn’t be drinking while pregnant.”

“Drinking? That’s what you’re worried about right now? Well, just so you know, I didn’t drink that.”

She’s standing there, purse over her shoulder and ready to walk through the doorway. She’s doing what old Nine used to do. Trying to run. I block her path.

“Who the fuck was here last night?”

“Oh no. You don’t get to question me after telling me you slept with another woman. That’s not how this goes. If your dick is open to the public, then I guess so is my pussy. This isn’t a double standard relationship where you get to have your secrets.”

I smash my fist into the wall and yell. Nine jumps. I don’t even give a shit anymore. Fuck everything. I throw my hands in the air.

“Fine. You wanna know what the fuck I’ve been hiding from you. I’ll tell you exactly what I’ve been doing!”

“Don’t. It doesn’t even matter anymore,” she says.

With a bloody fist, I pull my burner phone out and toss it toward her feet. I then take a paper out of my wallet that contains my private wire account information and throw it on the floor. I pull my flight info from my back pocket and hand it to her.

“What the hell is this?”

She opens the flight information and then looks up at me as if she’s seen a ghost.

“What were you doing in Vegas, Trig?”

She bends down and grabs the phone and paper.

“Everything you want to know is right there.” I pause. “I’m not fucking around on you, aside from some terrible shit that happened last night. I’m doing contracts again.”

“What? Why?”

“Somebody leaked out a video of us fighting off that bank robber with our faces shown clear as day on it, and they found us.” I take a deep breath. “I’ve been flying back and forth to Vegas every other week because Carmen, The Savior’s boss, is punishing me. They have someone here watching us, and Mya. They threatened to do terrible things to you two if I didn’t, so I’ve been killing again to protect you two. Believe me, if there was any other way, I would have chosen it. I would hire an army of men to protect you two if I knew who to trust.”

Nine slides down the wall. I watch as she opens the burner phone and goes through it. When she’s done, she looks up at me.

“Oh my God. You could have just told me.”

“No. I couldn’t. This here is a mistake, but I’m tired of shit spinning out of control.” I squat down in front of her. She refuses to make eye contact, so I lift her chin with my finger.

“You have to pretend like you don’t know. You act normal. You don’t make any unusual movements. I never mentioned anything to you. Do you understand?”

She nods with tears in her eyes. I drop my hand from her face as we both take a moment to let her process things.

“How bad is this?” she asks.

“Not as bad as it’s going to get. Carmen is coming here to the island permanently to set up shop.”

She leans forward and grabs at her stomach.

“I think I’m going to be sick.” She pauses and then anger returns to her face as she must be remembering the girl I fucked. “I wish you would have just told me…last night…”

I look at her and she looks back at me with a strange face.

“Last night what?” I say through my teeth.

“Trig, I was hurt. I thought you were cheating on me. I wanted to hurt you back.”

The image of the empty wine bottle circles around in my head again.

“You really had someone here? I thought you were trying to get a rise out of me. What the fuck did you do?” I yell.

“Don’t yell at me! What about you? You strut in here with lipstick stains on your body, saying you fucked someone else, and yet you’re not fucking around on me aside from last night. What does that even mean? Did you really screw somebody else or was that just a cover-up?” she shouts back.

This verbal tennis match is killing me. We just keep passing this ball of shame back and forth tonight. I remain silent for a second and then I slowly nod. She looks away, obviously hurt.

“And you? Did you sleep with some guy last night?” I ask, trying to remain calm.

I can feel my throat tighten and my mouth run dry as I wait for her response.

She shakes her head at first. “He tried. He kissed me. I stopped him.”

I stand up and start pacing because my nerves are overloaded. I can slit people’s throats or put bullets in their body. I can take being degraded, pushed to the edge and being mentally tortured because I know why I’m doing it, but I’ll be damned if I share one of the few things in this world that is all mine. Her.

“I didn’t do anything with him. Why are you pissed? You slept with someone. Let’s talk about that shit.”

I scoff.

“Do you think there were candles and romantic music playing while I slowly made love to her on a bed of roses? I didn’t even know her name. Some terrified young escort scared for her life. There was a fucking gun to my head while Carmen basically coordinated every movement of my dick while he and another girl watched. Men were viewing from a live feed probably jerking off. It was humiliating, and degrading, and when we were done, Carmen killed her. He fucking put a bullet in her head because of the things I said to him, and I spent the rest of the night burying her. She died because of me, because of my anger, because I didn’t want to do any of it. What you planned and almost did and what I actually did are not the same thing. That is the fucking difference. There wasn’t a gun to your head. You did it by choice. That’s why I’m pissed.”

“It must have been so hard fucking that pretty girl,” she says. I squint my eyes at her. Did she not hear what I just said? She quickly covers her mouth for a second. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I don’t know why I said that. I’m feeling a lot of things.” She pauses. “That story is disgusting and sad and I don’t know how to process it because…because everything about what you just said hurts my soul. I’m angry with Carmen, with you, and also with myself due to my choices and I’m trying to take in everything and I don’t know what piece of information to grab on to first. Forgive me.”

I’m looking at her and having a hard time myself. I have ten different emotions running through me. I can’t blame her for thinking what she did, saying shitty things, or having natural reactions. I understand the pain. I understand her wanting to hurt me, and she has. She doesn’t need to do or say anything else. She let another man in my house, and almost between her legs. She didn’t even ask me if I was cheating before she went and did what she did. She just wanted revenge.

“He kissed you. You stopped him. Why? If you’re pissed at me because you thought I was cheating, why did you stop?”

She looks up at me and takes a breath first. “Because I love you, Trig. I always have and I always will, and if there was a chance that I was wrong, I’d never forgive myself.”

I squat down for a second and stare hard into her eyes. I scan every inch of her face and she’s not lying. Part of me wants to embrace her and part of me wants to flip over tables. I suddenly imagine some fucker kissing and groping her and I can’t breathe. I quickly stand up and grab my chest. I am shutting this down now. There is too much shit to talk about and I think we’re both running on empty at this point. This conversation is a whole lot of ‘what the fucks’ and pieces are flying all over the place. Both of us are scattered. We should be discussing the fact that I am killing again for the safety of this family. We should be discussing what our next move is, but the only thing we both want to know about right now is who is fucking whom. The thought of some fuck-face in my house sends me into a spiral again.

“I’m going to bed. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

She shoots up. I start to walk past her, but she grabs my arm.

“Trig.”

I stop and turn toward her with eyes ablaze.

“I’m sorry. You’re sorry. It’s all fucked up,” she says.

“Yeah. I am sorry because tomorrow when I wake up, I want answers. The guy that was here. I want his name and his address. You just signed his death certificate.”

“Don’t do this.”

“This is about respect, Nine. You know how this game works. Someone has to pay. Take some fucking notes.”

I walk into the bedroom, pick up that empty wine bottle, and smash it against the wall. I don’t know how to do this. I can’t juggle a family while doing this shit. I can’t love her the way she needs it. I can’t protect Mya the way I want to. I am failing at my job as a man and I can’t deal.