Bonfire Heart
Waking to sunlight, a naked woman and a pounding headache wasn’t anything new, but the two dead bodies on the floor, when did I get so careless? I rushed to hang a do not disturb sign on the door and hoped it was enough to keep the maids out.
Emery stretched, still sleeping peacefully. My sober mind latched onto the fact Amun called her by name while my body remembered the electricity of losing myself inside her during the aftermath. Fuck, I didn’t have time to think about it yet. Cleaning up this mess would be like trying to fit ten pounds of shit into a five-pound bag. There was no pretty way to do it.
Emery woke up after I’d stolen a cleaning cart and a larger laundry cart. I had the bodies wrapped, one in the shower curtain and the other in Kym’s fancy tablecloth. I’d shoved them both inside the laundry cart. I was far away, in the place you have to go when you have to contort dead bodies into small spaces. I scrubbed the carpet with bleach water, trying not to think of Kym’s dark, bloody hair. “Good thing the carpet is white,” I muttered as Emery sat on the edge of the bed, naked, not sure what to do. I thought enough to give her something to do, so she’d stop staring at me. “Coffee would be nice. Kym’s kitchenette is stocked. I can’t eat but you ought to. I don’t need your help yet, but burying two bodies would go quicker if I had your help later.”
On autopilot, I cleaned meticulously, making sure to erase every splatter of blood and tissue. The sheets were soaking in cold water, and I made the bed with fresh ones. Going over the carpet one more time, I realized Emery was telling me coffee was ready. A hot cup of coffee warmed my hands, and I could think again.
“So what now?” Emery asked as she ate a bowl of cereal.
“We wait until night and get these bodies in the truck. Find somewhere to bury them. Pick up my bike and that fifty grand you owe me,” I started but all I could think of was that Amun had known Emery, Mrs. Jenkins, he called her by her last name, said they had unfinished business. She lied to Kym, had thought enough to with a couple of beers in her, saying her name was Rachel. Hell, she even fired a perfect shot, shooting Kym dead when I couldn’t pull the trigger. All the passion I’d felt comforting her last night blackened, turning to mistrust.
“Then what?” she continued, getting up and clearing the few dishes. She touched my bare shoulder, caressing me and began massaging my tight muscles.
“I guess then I kill you.” I shrugged her off, but she didn’t move very far away.
“Right,” her voice was a whisper.
“Have you changed your mind?”
“About last night,” she began, her voice tender.
“Last night we were both drugged and fucked by a whore in more ways than one.”
“But last night,” Emery tried again, and I didn’t let her finish.
“Who do you work for?”
“No one.” She squealed, looking like I’d killed her puppy.
“You lying bitch!” I snatched her long blonde hair, bringing her face to mine. My voice had been too loud. I had to quiet down, I didn’t need the cops up here. It took some effort as I gritted my teeth. “You know Amun, fall into my lap, into my bed, while I’m trying to kill him. Who do you work for?” I punched the table, making her jump. “What did you do, sell me out?”
“It’s not like that. It’s a horrible coincidence,” she pleaded.
I didn’t believe her but let her go. The thought of killing her now, even if I could, didn’t fit. She scurried off to the kitchen sink. Watching her, in my shirt and nothing else, suddenly I wanted to fuck her brains out. The urge just made me even angrier. “Take of that shirt and put on Kym’s clothes.” I’d saved them for her. “You’re nothing but my whore. You’re alive instead of dying a slow excruciating death because we have a deal, remember that.”
“Yes sir,” she spat, teasing me with rare flicker of fire, only making me what her more. She dressed in front of me, terribly slowly. Emery found Kym’s shoes fit her too and made a big deal of bending over at the waist in them.
The next few hours were a glorified staring contest between Emery and I. She was waiting for my next order, making herself useless unless I told her exactly what to do. I wouldn’t give in to myself and fuck her, I couldn’t kill her and I couldn’t let her walk. Formulating a plan in my head, I stared blankly at her for hours.
When night fell, I couldn’t wait to get out of the hotel room. Even with the smell of bleach, the odor of rotten flesh had taken up residence in my nose. Emery couldn’t smell anything and maybe my senses had gotten ahead of me in anticipation, but it was there all the same, making me gag.