“Yeah, the guy you are going to kill.”
“He’s not just a guy. He works for one of the biggest crime families in America and he’s done more wrong than the Devil on a Friday night.”
“So what are you, some vigilante?”
“No, honey, nothing like that. You were one hundred percent right about me. He pissed off a friend of mine and she’s meaner than him and she’s willing to pay, so he’s gonna die. Got it?”
I could see outta the corner of my eye, Emery nodded before silence filled the air and remained until we parked in a garage three blocks from the hotel. She grumbled when I told her we’d be walking. “I’m in heels!”
Getting into the hotel with Emery was a breeze, much easier than on my own. People fear a lone, strange man, but as soon as you add a woman to the mix, people open up, trust you even. Suddenly, you’re a husband, a brother, a father instead of a thief, a killer, a rapist. Emery had broke a heel crossing the road. We hung out in the dimly lit smoking area outside the hotel. Emery looking freshly fucked in my button down shirt, she pretended to share my smoke. Having ditched her shoes in the trashcan, we looked even more believable. Still dressed as Johnny Stevens, in his long sleeves, I looked like a somewhat respectable man, at least a man who could afford to Honeymoon here. I put my arm around her, so we’d look more like a couple of newlyweds. Eventually a couple of smokers showed up, and we told them we left our key card upstairs. They opened the side door for us without a care.
I’d studied the way so I could get to Kym’s room with my eyes closed and my face wouldn’t be on camera, but I hadn’t planned on having an accomplice. “Keep your eyes on the floor,” I reminded Emery on the way through the hotel. We took the elevator to a higher floor, then took the stairs down. When we finally got to the room, no one was there. I looked everywhere. “Fuck, where’s Kym?” Kym was at least a high-class whore. The large suite looked lived in, cluttered with homey touches. “Fucking Kym, bitch better not skip out on me like Rosie.”
“Rosie?”
It was time I fessed up. “Kym promised Amun two girls for tomorrow night. Rosie didn’t show so you’re on.”
“What? I am not fucking some guy.”
“You may not have to.” Kym’s voice came from the large trunk by the bed. I opened it, but she wasn’t there. Instead, she crawled out from under the table behind the trunk. “I’ve found your hiding place.” A large silk cloth lay over the table, touching the ground. It would be perfect as long as no one looked under it.
“Won’t he be suspicious?” Emery asked. It was a good question.
“I live here, pretty much, all my tricks come here. This shit is always here.”
“Where’s my bag?”
“Under the table. Give it a try.”
I crawled under and found my guns in the dark, pulled them into the light to make sure they were still loaded and shoved them back in place.
Kym offered us a couple of beers, and we all sat her table while she rolled a joint.
“You can afford to live in a hotel?” Emery blurted out.
Kym didn’t mind it. “The owner, he likes me.” We could guess what that meant. “It’s pretty convenient. Got room service and the maids clean my room real good. You know they use steam, powerful shit to kill bed bugs and all. But enough chit chat.” Kym passed me the joint, batting her eyes at Emery who sat beside her in nothing but my dress shirt. “As I was saying you may not have to sleep with Amun because he wants to watch.”
Emery’s expression did nothing to hide her reluctance before she announced. “I don’t do girls.”
“You don’t do girls and you won’t fuck Amun? What kind of escort are you?”
“Um, I’m not one,” Emery proclaimed before I could stop her.
Kym’s arms were crossed. “What the hell Johnny?”
I took another hit. It’d been a long time since I’d had the pleasure. I let the smoke roll slowly out of my lungs. “Don’t listen to her. She owes me for services yet to be rendered. She’ll do as I say.”
“Like hell I will!” Emery spit with fire.
Something in me switched on, craving that fiery side of her again. “You will or our deal is off.”
“So shoot me.” Emery smiled wickedly, crossing her arms too, challenging me, knowing we were in an odd predicament.
Already feeling high, I confronted her, “What’s it matter what you do? You’ve made up your mind. Why not have some experiences before you’re… gone? Why not let this pretty girl get you off?”