to make sure I don’t put all of my weight on top of her and crush her small frame.
In the aftermath, as we both lay there breathing heavily, wrapped up in each other, I think back to the song Layla sang tonight and hope to God I’m strong enough for this woman and can get her out of this impossible situation.
“What the hell were you thinking throwing a brick through her fucking window?”
Ray rolls his eyes as he puts his car in park, lights up a cigarette, and scans through the pictures he just picked up from the one hour photo place.
“I feel like we’ve had this discussion before. I do what I want, when I want, and I wanted to have a little fun with that hot piece of ass,” Ray replies with a chuckle as he runs his finger over a particularly good profile shot of Layla sitting on top of that asshole PI in his truck. Her head is thrown back, her mouth is open, and all of that glorious hair is spilling down her back. It makes him wish he would have walked up to the truck, thrown open the door, and dragged her out by her hair so she could have finished her little impromptu truck-fucking with him.
“This has gone too far. I just wanted her a little scared and some easy publicity,” the voice whines in irritation through the phone line.
Ray ignores it and continues flipping through the photos. He’s made it a habit of following Layla around everywhere she goes, and it’s been a little boring. Imagine his surprise when he woke up from a nap in his car to see her walk right by him, hop into the truck parked across from his car, and fuck that lowlife for all she's worth. He almost regrets spending a big chunk of his payment on a good camera with a telephoto lens, but these pictures prove that the expense is well worth it. Too bad he didn’t buy a video camera. He would have enjoyed being able to watch her bounce up and down on that guy’s cock again and again, imagining it was him.
“You should be more concerned with the fact that her new bodyguard follows her around everywhere she goes. I don’t think that guy is as dumb as he looks. You better watch your step or he’s going to find out what a bad, bad person you are,” Ray says with a laugh.
“He hates me. I know he already suspects something. Why the hell isn’t he doing what he usually does: sucking back booze and screwing random women? He’s not the loser I thought he was. He needs to be out of the picture immediately or this is going to blow up in our faces.”
Ray takes his favorite photo out of the pile and grabs a black Sharpie marker from the center console. It’s regrettable that he’s going to give this photo away, but he can always make another copy.
“This isn’t going to blow up in MY face,” his voice raises in disbelief. “It’s going to blow up in YOUR face. You better make nice with the big bad PI, and you better do it fast before he really starts digging into things,” Ray states distractedly as he pens a personalized message on the photo, reads it over, and smiles at his creativity.
“Right, right. That’s a good idea. Maybe I can throw him off the trail if I just kill him with kindness,” the voice replies.
“Or I could just kill him.”
Ray barks out a laugh when he hears the gasp of shock through the phone line at his suggestion.
“What?! No! Absolutely not. We’re not talking about killing anyone. I told you that in the beginning. No one needs to die. We just need to pull back a little. No more threats, no more going off on your own. This needs to be finished so he packs up and leaves. Layla will go back to doing what she’s supposed to, and no one will ever know I had anything to do with this.”
Ray sighs as the person rambles on and on, trying to tell him what to do and what not to do. He doesn’t like it when people think they can boss him around. He was hired to do a job, and he doesn’t care what the fuck this person wants. He’s going to finish it how he wants to, and if someone has to die, well then so be it.