Phaedra Torres - Digressions Into Erotica

“What? I’m not going anywhere with you, mister! What do you think this is, a singles’ joint? We’re in the middle of the street watching a burning building , for Pete’s Sake!”

He put his hands up defensively. “Oh, no! No, no. I mean… I wouldn’t dream of… I would never be so forward. Sorry. I was just going to ask if you had a cell phone. Mine’s dead.” He watched all the tumblers click into place in her eyes. Surprise…good.

Realization…yes. Aaannnnd…mortification. Her eyes widened and a flush rose from her throat to flood her cheeks. There ya go, sweety.

She took a step back and tittered. “Oh, sorry. I guess I…” She struggled for grace-saving words. “I don’t have a cell, but you can use my phone upstairs if it’s local.” She nodded her head towards the window. He imagined the gun going off in her face. Click,click, boom.

“Really? I mean, are you sure? I’d really appreciate it, but you know…” She waved him on. “Don’t be silly. Besides, the street’s full of cops right now. How safe can a girl get?” She half smiled, the irony of her statement flashing in her eyes for a split second before it was dismissed with a blink. “Come on, I’ve got to get back up there anyway. My kitty’s probably going crazy by himself.” Jason gave her his most earnest smile. “Wow, you really are nice. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.” Phase Two. “I have to call my girlfriend and let her know something’s up, or she’ll have my skin when I get home.” He looked at the ground as he walked. “She’s funny like that, I guess. Don’t get me wrong, I mean, I love her so much, but…” He sighed almost too heavily and glanced up at her on the stairs. “Sorry. You don’t even know me. What do you care?”

“Oh, no! I mean, please, if you need to get something off your chest, then who better than a new acquaintance? I have no idea who you’re talking about, right? So I’m safe for venting. Go ahead. I don’t mind.” She smiled softly and waited for him to catch up to her on the landing. She gained a new level of enthusiasm with each flight of stairs, until they finally reached her floor. “Oh, I am so sorry! I never got your name! I can hardly let someone into my home before I even know his name, now can I? My name’s Gail, by the way.”

Resting her back against the door jam, she extended a small hand towards him.

Jason gave the hand a limp pump. “I’m Derrick. Nice to meet you, Gail.” He shuddered inside as his palm slipped against hers. She already felt like a corpse-greasy, sagging skin, no muscle tone, and cool to the touch. He resisted the urge to rub his hand on his shirt.

Gail beamed at him and turned toward the door. “Pardon the mess, Derrick. I wasn’t expecting company, of course.” The door opened immediately into a tired, mud-toned living room, all long and narrow. Thirty-year-old furniture in various stages of collapse lined the walls. Jason watched Gail shove a pile of semi-folded laundry to the side of the couch. “Have a seat, I’ll go grab the phone from the kitchen. You want me to get you something to drink while I’m in there?”

Jason scanned the room, his gaze landing on the window. He stepped to it and peered out at the rapidly dwindling chaos below. This’ll do nicely .

He heard Gail fumbling in the sink and imagined her hastily washing a couple of

‘decent’ glasses, even though he’d never answered her question. He pulled the pistol from its nesting place and padded towards the kitchen.

***

Pen propped the detail list on the steering wheel and figured out what time she’d arrive, where he would be, and where she should wait. Each location on the itinerary sparked a flashback. When they’d met, when they’d fought, and when that rage had transitioned into passion… She shook her head and smiled in spite of the situation.

The drive only took a couple of hours, and she was a little amazed that he’d been so near, for however long he’d been there. She pulled into his apartment complex, found a nice, quiet spot, and double-checked her notes and supplies. After a quick scan of the parking lot, she slipped out and walked towards the back of the building. She took the stairs and let herself into a dim hallway.

Four doors down on the left waited an empty apartment. Four doors down on the right sat the target’s place. Pen listened for a minute, then let herself into the empty residence.

She stashed her tools back in her bag and took a quick look around. The bathroom was a hollow shell with a hole in the floor. Great! She checked her watch-no time to make a run. Luckily, she’d made a pit stop in town, because hide-and-seek always made her feel like she had to pee.

She settled in to wait, sitting and leaning against the wall, and pulled out the contents of the envelope. She hadn’t given the photos any more than a cursory glance, so she took a minute to study them in detail now. Not much had changed in three years. He looked a little closer to dead, but that was about it.

She ignored the pang, but couldn’t stop the memories from flooding back. Resigned to getting them over with, she tipped her head back against the crinkled wallpaper and closed her eyes.

There he was-all smoldering eyes and slack-jawed concentration, the electricity between them so thick that she could easily picture his sighs coming out in rushes of colored vapor. He’d always known just where to touch her, just which buttons to push.

They’d been in it together, the two of them, completely open, no false names or histories. No one else had ever given her that.

Glancing at her watch, Pen idly traced the fingers of her other hand across the inseam of her cargo pants. The hard knob of material, where all four seams met, was positioned just so, and she rocked against her hand, pushing against the shape.

“ No time for weakness, Pen!” she admonished herself.

She sprang to her feet and began pacing the cramped entryway, checking the parking lot on each pass of the window. Get it together, Pen. It’s a job. Just a job. After several rotations, wiping her sweaty palms on the seat of her pants, she glanced again and saw his vehicle pulling up to its assigned spot.

Pen scrambled to her bag and withdrew her weapons, hastily fastening and stashing them into the pouches and pockets of her clothing. Gotta be ready. One quick shot. She screwed the silencer onto the muzzle and slid a round into the chamber.

She rested her gloved fingertips lightly against the doorknob and peered through the peephole. Within seconds, she heard footsteps on the carpeted stairs to her right.

***

One shot to the temple, slightly angled to the back, was all it had taken to leave the shrew in a heap on the kitchen floor. Jason returned to the window and watched the activity below for a while. Matching cops to vehicles assured him that he had accounted for almost everyone on the scene. There was a small gathering of blue off to the side of the hook and ladder. They’d be canvassing soon, he imagined.

Jason grabbed Gail’s keys off the small table next to the door, let her cat out, and exited through the rear of the complex. He weaved through a few alleys, and meandered down a sidewalk or two until he came to his car. As he pulled away, his first genuine-if sardonic-smile curled his mouth.

That was slick. Bonus points awarded for securing a safe spot in which to watch the bar over the next couple of days, and see if the target showed up to assess the damage in person. All bets said he would-Hector kept a tight reign on his business holdings. But Jason knew Hector better than any of the morons who paid his bills. Hector was no fool.