calls he made on the cell phone number he was given went unanswered, so he decides to call on a number he knows won’t be ignored.
“What the hell are you doing calling me on this number?”
Ray rolls his eyes and walks out of the kitchen, flopping down on an old ripped couch in the corner of the living room in his trailer.
“Gee, no hello?” he asks with a laugh as he picks up the remote and flips through the channels until he finds a good soft core porn movie to watch.
“What do you want?” his contact on the other end asks in an angry whisper.
“It seems the cell number you gave me doesn’t work. Imagine that?”
An indignant huff sounds through the line. “I must have given you the wrong number. Just don’t ever call me here again. Someone else could have answered and then we would both be fucked.”
Ray’s blood boils as he listens to the shit coming out of this person’s mouth.
“I hate to break it to you, but I’m not the one going behind someone’s back who trusts me and living the high life while doing it. I just spent the last twenty-four months in prison and live in a shit hole trailer. I ain’t got nothin’ to lose, and you got plenty. It would do you good to remember that.”
Ray turns up the volume on the two chicks going down on each other and lets his words sink in for a few minutes while he enjoys a little girl-on-girl action.
“Fine, you made your point. Now make another one. Why the hell are you calling me?”
“Just figured I’d check in and make sure the job was done to your satisfaction,” Ray replies distractedly as he cocks his head and focuses on the television. He sets the remote down next to him and eases his body lower on the couch so he can put his feet up on the milk crates he uses as a coffee table.
“You went a little overboard, don’t you think? I told you to scare her, not beat the shit out of her,” the voice replies.
“You should have been a little more specific then,” Ray reminds with a laugh.
“I didn’t pay you to mess up her face.”
“So far you’ve only paid me for the letters. And what about my face? You didn’t tell me that PI asshole was going to be following her around like a puppy dog. That guy came out of nowhere and almost had me. There better be some extra cash in that envelope tomorrow to make up for my pain and suffering, or else I’ve got a few recorded phone conversations and emails the press might be very interested in listening to.”
Ray throws the now-melted bag of peas to the end of the couch and smiles to himself when he hears nervous, rapid breathing on the other end of the line.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. I said I’d pay you and I will. I don’t know what the hell Brady Marshall was doing at that club tonight. It’s obvious that slut already has him wrapped around her little finger. He’s a drunk and one more tragedy away from putting a gun in his mouth. That’s the only reason he was hired. It looks good to the public, but he’s too busy wallowing in his own misery to figure anything out. Still, you damn well better be covering your tracks. And I think after tomorrow, your services won’t be needed anymore.”
Ray grinds his teeth in anger. He doesn’t let anyone talk to him this way. He’s killed people in the past for a lot less, and right now, he’s had enough of the pompous, I’m-better-than-you act.
“You and I have known each other for quite some time now. You should know that I don’t take orders from anyone, especially someone like you. Now that I’ve had a chance to get up close and personal to little miss Layla, I don’t think I’m anywhere near finished with her yet,” Ray says, his cock swelling in his pants—a combination of the movie and thoughts of Layla Carlysle and her hot little body that he had pressed up against him tonight.
“What do you mean you’re not finished? I paid you to write a few letters and give her a little scare. That’s it.”
“Didn’t we already go over this? I haven’t gotten paid for my services from tonight. We’ll see how much of a bonus I get tomorrow. Then I’ll decide when and if I’m