Page 25 of Creed

I don’t doubt for one second there’s something she’s not telling me. Something her friend has said or did had to have provoked the question.

“Have you ever had a threesome?”

“What?”

“You asked me. Turnabout is fair play, babe.”

“Hmm.” Her mouth stretches wide as her arms go up over her head and she lets out a soft yawn. “I think I’m going to get ready for bed now.”

“All right. I’ll let you go. Sweet dreams, beautiful.”

“Seth,” she whispers my name. “I agree to dinner.”

“It’s a date.” The call drops off, and I close my eyes with a smile.

“That’s it, baby. Yeah. Shake it.” Gino, my target, tosses bills at the stage. I’ve spent all day following this stupid fuck all over town.

I watch the stripper as she tugs at the strings of her G-string, snapping the thin material against her hips, teasing like she may accidentally flash us her beat up pussy. I thought the motel I’m staying at was a shithole until I entered this joint. Smells like piss, desperation, and body odor.

This bitch has track marks on her arms and one too many lip injections. I can’t tell what’s bigger. Her mouth or her fake tits.

This whole scene is fucking sad.

Gino is a sex addict who has trouble getting it up and owes the Cornbread Mafia more than his pathetic life is worth. They’ve ordered the hit, but it can’t be in the family because he married into it through a cousin or something. For whatever reason, they hired me to off thegreaseball. I don’t really care. I want to get this over with so I can get home to take Lottie out.

The performance gets worse when she spins around to show off her flabby ass and the lighting in here only seems to highlight her worst features. I don’t feel sorry for her. She’s Gino’s whore that he pimps out on the side to fund both of their drug habits. The cunt has three kids with him, all given up for adoption. It’s the only smart choice she’s made. Too bad for her. She got in so deep with the wrong man. She signed her own death warrant the moment she first time she didn’t walk away. Now the organization thinks she knows too much thanks to Loose Lips McGee, who has shared too much about the business.

I never thought I’d be here myself. Killing for profit. Having pity on a mark. I’ve never turned down a job before, but I’m conflicted. Would this bitch be a better person if she had a fresh start and was clean? Could she one day make it up to her children? The thought weighs heavily on me. At the end of the day, we all have choices and time after time, this cunt has proven that she loves her demons more than she loves herself.

I elbow Gino in the ribs. “She sure can move.”

He looks me over, deciding if I’m a threat. I pretend to drunkenly pull out my huge wad of cash, dropping a few bills on the floor and throwing a few fifties and twenties at the whore.

“Hey man.” He leans in close. “She likes to party. Know what I mean?” he arches his brows, wiggling them.

The idea of touching his skank has the bile in the pit of my stomach churning. Acid hits the back of my throat. “I’ve got a room if you think she’d be down.”

“She’ll do anything, and I do mean anything, for the right price.”

I continue to play my part of the sloppy drunk who barely knows his own name and lure them back to the motel down the street. The room I checked into under a false name and paid for with cash for a week.

The bitch wastes no time drinking the beer I had waiting in the mini fridge. Gino gets right to it, pulling his flaccid cock out to stroke himself as his whore dances around the room. I watch from the doorway of the bathroom.

Her fake ass tits barely move. Her dark eyeliner is smudged beneath her eyes, giving her the racoon look. Fuck, this is sad and downright embarrassing.

“Don’t tell me you’re shy?” she shimmies her way over to me and takes my hands, trying to get me to dance with her. I laugh it off, but I’m about three seconds away from snapping her neck.

“Thought you like to party?” I take out a preloaded syringe filled with a cocktail that will make her go lights out permanently.

“I love to party,” she coos. “Don’t I, Gino.”

“That’s right, sugar. Nobody loves it more.” The short, fat bastard pops a boner pill while continuing to stroke his worm of a dick. “I like to watch.”

“Me too,” I tell him with a wink that startles him. “Come on, sweetheart. Ladies first.” I whip off my belt for a tourniquet and shove her down on the edge of the bed. “You too, big boy.” I point a second syringe at my primary target. He shuffles out of the chair with his pants and underwear around his ankles and over to the bed next to his bitch as she tries to undo my jeans. “Not yet.” I press my lips to hers, about to vomit from touching her.

“What about you?” Gino questions as his woman tightens the belt around his arm.

I press the plunger down. “I don’t put poison in my veins.” His eyes widen and he falls back on the bed, experiencing a temporary euphoria as the drugs burn through his veins.

---