Page 44 of Bad Seed
He yelps, crying for his mommy, for the police, for anyone to help save him.
The chair swings across the floor, sliding out from under his right foot. But I leave it just so that he has to balance on his left toes for the rest of the night.
“That’s for calling her a bitch. Enjoy your evening.”
With a calm whistle, I walk over my tripwire and leave him to hang by his throat until someone cares enough to check. Maybe he’ll slip and improve the world’s lot. But a leech like that has a habit of surviving even the worst tragedies while the best burn.
“You fucking bastard! Scum sucking cunt!” he screams. On a dime, the curses switch to a sputtering panic. I told him to not rock the chair.
Once out of his house, I lock the door with his keys and stroll down the sidewalk. The rest of the neighborhood is quiet. Perhaps someone will hear him crying out and come to the rescue. Or they’ll turn up their TVs and phones to drown out the man who left a woman gasping on the floor.
I don’t bother to glance at the cameras hanging off their posts, the wires cut. I follow the road littered with mysteriously broken cameras. But as I take a turn into a blind alley, the snipped surveillance continues in a new direction. Not that I expect the police to care enough to check the footage. We relied more on their incompetence to cover our tracks than bribes, though they certainly took those too.
This was my last job. My last time in this country.
If they think I’m heading north, then it’s time I try south. There are worse things to do than winter in Mexico.
I slide into my car and shut the door. After pulling off my right glove, I tap on my phone.
“Meow?”
“I know, Astin,” I tell my back seat. My little orange gremlin glares at me from his cage, his eyes glowing with familiar rage. “We’ll be going soon. Let me just check my…”
A message pops up.
It’s from her.
I shouldn’t read it. If anything, I should smash this phone and get a new burner. But my eyes scan down.
Breasts.
Luscious, golden tits override my nervous system, and I open the text.
My instant erection hardens as I find her smiling wide with a jar of something by her cheek. I can’t make it out, but I don’t really care.Fuck me.My body wants me to drive right back to Loomis, take both of those shining tits in my palms, and bend her over the first thing I find.
My brain knows how fucking stupid that is. Staying is a death sentence. If I don’t get out of here, they will find me, and then this eggplant will be pulped.
“Huh?”
I finally tear my eyes away enough to read her text.
You can banana my sauce any day.
What does that mean? I almost reach out to ask her when she starts typing.
Sorry sorry sorry!
My friend sent that. She got my phone. I didn’t want to.
I’m trying to be chill.
I am chill. As s cucumber.
On Sunday morning.
I’ll stop now.
Sorry again.
