Page 110 of Rhet

He rolls over slowly, sits on side of the bed, and slumps to hold his head.

I move Natasha’s leg aside to sit next to him.

I pat my sides. “This jacket, I tell you. It’s like a black hole. I can’t find shit. Oh, wait.” I pull out my cigar case and take one of my babies out. I sigh. “You really are on Fuck Street.”

He starts to cry more. “I don’t even remember. I can’t, I can’t remember.”

“You need to have that checked out, by the way. You could have Alzheimer’s or that shit dementia.” Was I going to tell him this was the effects of GHB? No. I cut the end of my cigar again, stuffing the cutter back into my pockets.

“You set this up. I don’t have to confess to anything. I can tell them I was framed.” His face is a blotchy pink and his eyes are bloodshot.

“Shit, you’re right.” I scratch my head, thinking about how stupid he sounds.

“I know I am,” he stammers.

“But they would ask why are you associating with one of the most corrupted families in Lakeshore?” I smirk, knowing I won this round. “What will they say when they find out you were with a prostitute in a strip club belonging to me?”

I watch as realization of the situation dawns slowly over his face.

“What would Dan Colson of Lakeshore news say when Senator Barrett, a known conversative, is found in bed with a dead prostitute belonging to Pakhan Dimitri Kozlov.”

“They won’t believe you. They will know I was set up,” he growls.

“How would they know? I have video evidence and pics showing you did this willingly, without me forcing you.”

The Senator’s face falls as it begins to make sense. “Oh God, I’m so, so—”

“I would say you’re Fucked. Give me your hand.” I take his hand, pulling it to my side.

“What are you doing?” His voice sounds empty and flat.

“I need an ashtray,” I dust my cigar embers into his hand.

“Oh.”

I give his hand back. “Where was I? Yes, pretty boy Colson will take you down. They won’t send you to ordinary prison either. They will send you to Hell’s Gate.”

“Hell’s Gate? Murders go to Hells Gate,” His face pales as it repeats the words Hell’s Gate.

“Yes, sir. Don’t eat the Honey Bun on the bed either. You’ll become someone’s bitch.” I shouldn’t be enjoying this so much. Then I think about the way he tried to take my money away from me and he touched Zeeta. “But we’re friends aren’t we, Desmond?”

He nods his head. “Yes, we are.”

“Good. I like to think of you as my friend. I can make all of this go away.” I point with my thumb to the dead body behind us.

“What do you want?” He sniffles.

Bingo. “You need to pay me ten million, also pay four hundred thousand for my entry at the bids. Also, the ten firms you own. I need fifty percent of each one.”

“You are fucking crazy?” The Senator mumbles.

“I’m not, I’m a situation statistician. The stats are showing you are screwed.”

He rubs his forehead. I allow him time to see things my way. He has no other way out.

“It will all go away?” He says in despair, beads of sweat run down the side of his pale face.

“This never happened.” I dust my hands off.

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