Page 6 of Bullet for My Good Girl

Before all this mess, I was what one would call the bell of the ball. Always at the best parties. Everyone wanted to be my friend. Rich. Self-centered. The IT girl.

Then I saw something I just wasn't supposed to see. I tried to do the right thing and my life blew up.

My father, mother, and little sister were all murdered within four days of me going to the cops with what I witnessed. Protective custody was a joke. Suddenly I found myself on my own running from fucking shadows.

I couldn't deal with it. I'm not built for this life. So I fell in with the wrong crowd hoping that they could help me. All they managed to do was get me hooked on coke. I'd spent more of my savings on that white powder than I have on food. I'm filthy, haven't washed my hair in weeks and now all I have left to offer is my pussy.

When he walked in I knew that he'd been the one who'd been following me around and all I could offer was my body. I didn't have enough money to call off whatever hit there was on my head. I don't have any more clout to call in any favors. I'm nothing but a husk of meat.

Hot tears run down my cheeks as I cry with my head cradled by my own arms. My back and knees burn from the callous way that bastard fucked me. I guess it could've been worse. At least he made me come.

"What the hell am I going to do now?" I whisper to myself as I sit up and wipe the tears from my face. I can't go back to the cops and if people are already coming to kill me I'm sure more will be on the way. I don't think I'll be able to fuck my way out of trouble for too long and I don't want to have to do that. Who knows what the next man will want to do to me.

Something shiny catches my attention. At first I just assume it's a piece of glass, maybe a bit of broken bottle but it's gold. Reaching for the object slowly, I pull it out from under the trash.

"Oh my god." I whimper when I realize exactly what it is that I'm holding.

A bullet. One with a small painted heart on it. The man must have left this here just so I know what's going to happen. This is no fluke. He's going to kill me or at least someone like him will.

I suck in a deep breath and can feel my heart begin to gallop away in my chest. Faster and faster until I can't hear anything besides the wild thumping of my vital organ.

When will the moment come? Is he waiting for me outside the building right now? Will he use that large knife I saw him kill these other two junkies with? Will he be waiting for me at my small rented apartment?

A million thoughts race through my mind. All of them peak to one question in particular. "What am I going to do now?"

Live.

A strange wave of determination washes over me. That man could have ended my life right then. He could have fucked me then shot me in the back of my head but instead, he got up and walked away.

There's no one that I can trust but I can hide. I'll have to stay in the shadows and out of the general population. I'd have to look over my shoulder at all times. Be cautious. But while there's still breath in my lungs I'm going to do my best to stay alive.

I stand up slowly, stretching my back and rubbing my knees. I don't know how much longer I have in this life but I'm not going to waste what I have left waiting to die.

With fake courage, I fix my clothing. Slide the bullet with the heart into my pocket and slowly walked out of the drug den. I need to get what little life I have left back in order. One step at a time.

I know I'd be living a life alone but at least I'll be living. One hour, one day, one week. I don't know how much time I have left, but whatever it is, I'll take it.

Four

Vitto

Present day

"Wait! Please. I'll pay you double! You know who I am, right. You know that I can pay you. Just give me a chance." Clarence Proper cried as he hung from a steam pipe in the basement of his secret home.

Clarence is a cheating, baby fucking scumbag who thought he could go through life without anyone touching him. He thought because he was an important man in the British crime family that he'd be immune. Turns out, not even the bastards across the pond want anything more to do with Mr. Proper. When the hit was put out on him, none of them even bothered to give him a heads-up.

Usually a man like Mr. Proper would be low on my list of hits but he tried to seduce the wrong child. He sent a dick pic to one of my father's associate’s fifteen year old daughter. That's enough to put a bullet in his head. As I did a little digging into the man's history, I realized that this wasn't the first time he'd gone after an innocent child. He has a history of trying to stick his dirty cock into little girls. It's time he realized what the punishment for living that kind of life is.

"You don't have anything that you can offer me. Stop fucking whining." I pull out a sharp paring knife and cut down the center of his pants.

"Please, oh please, you don't have to do this. It'll never happen again." Clarence begs for his life. He kicks his legs back and forth slightly, the motion is aggravating.

He wants me to spare him. Wants time he doesn’t deserve. A flicker of a memory pops into my mind as I think back on the last time I gave a mark extra time.

The one that got away.

Stella Spiro.

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