It was dark and at the end of a good rain. Like something out of a movie, Marcus got out of the car and walked down to the dock, his entourage behind him and his rather ruthless sidekick at his side. She was clearly angling to be his wife. That wasn’t going to happen, but he’d be a fool to act like she wasn’t his best asset.
He had just set up a deal for some rather sensitive documents. The person who was supposed to deliver the goods had decided they would take things and sell them on the side for more money. Clearly, the cut Marcus was offering wasn’t enough.
Stuff like this always pissed him off. He spent years building a massive criminal empire, and he still had to deal with the same shit as when he was just a street hustler trying to murder his way up to the top. Now here he was, in the dead of night, walking out onto a pier to one of his private boats. About to deal with people who clearly underestimated him.
“Seriously, life was easier before I graduated to organised crime,” Marcus said, mostly to himself.
“Look, you’re still the newbie, fighting for the best jobs, making a name for yourself. It will be a few years still before the big boys have to accept that you’re one of them. Stealing those one of a kind gold bars was a good move. And it proves we have the people who can pull off a complicated heist. The museum may not be happy, but we made bank so who cares,” Marcy said and ate the last of her fries. Here they were about to end someone's life, and this girl was eating fries.
“I guess you’re right. And that painting we’re moving tomorrow.”
“Yup. You’re on the way up, and fast. So you have to spill a little blood on the way. No one said it would be easy. And you are still running the drug scene for, shit, I don’t even know how far it extends. I just know the money is coming in. For a black male under the age of thirty, you’ve made crime pay.”
“Yeah but what about my personal life?” At this moment they finally made it onto the boat. Marcy totally ignored this comment. She went into the bedroom to make sure that she was looking to die for. Evil could be beautiful after all.
“Honestly, you don’t have to look beautiful to kill someone.”
“That shows just how much you understand about women. Do you think I need a tan? I’m feeling a bit pale.” Could you actually ‘feel’ pale Marcus wondered.
“You’re fine. Unless you wake up black tomorrow, you’re as brown as you’re going to get for a white girl. You don’t want to be orange.”
“Good point.”
The two of them walked out to where a few of his men had the traitors standing, hands tied behind backs looking a little beat up. He was more than certain Marcy ordered rough treatment and was unconcerned by this. As he walked to the man he thought he could trust, the guy did nothing but spit in Marcus' face. Marcus punched him. Unsatisfied, he beat him until he was a bloody mess on the floor and then choked the life out of him with his hands.
“And you say I have aggression issues.”
“Whatever. Kill the rest and then throw them over.” Marcus washed the blood off his hands in the wet bar and headed back out onto the deck. He looked off into the dark sea. No one would find them out this far. And the bodies. Lost at sea. It was the ideal location to dispose of trash.
Marcy came out to look over the railing with him. She was happy enough to just stare out into the nothingness. Marcus was still fuming. If it weren't for him, that guy wouldn't have any work. And still, he went and double-crossed him. Now he had to sort out shit with his partners to explain why he was documentless. Fuck that shit.
“Do you know who he sold it to?”
“I’m waiting on confirmation. But yes—I do.”
“When you are sure they have it, take them out. Kill them all and then send parts of their bodies back to who they work for. And if you don’t get the documents back.”
“You’ll kill me.”
“Well, maybe not you. But whoever you get on this job. And I don’t care how much you like them. So choose wisely.”
***
Marcus drove up to the house. It was a small house. Unattractive. But he wasn’t there for the house. He was there for… well he wasn’t quite sure what he was there for. But he was there all the same. It was late. Much too late. But if he didn’t come here he’d end up with Marcy. She would give him orgasms but… He didn’t have too much time to think before the door opened.
“Marcus?”
“Lisa.”
“What are you doing here?”
Marcus genuinely didn’t know what to say. Lisa let him come in. Her child was there. What was the spawn doing up at this time of night? He didn’t care really, he had no interest in children. Just annoyances they were. He ignored him and went into the kitchen. Lisa followed. They talked for a while, mostly about his day. It wasn’t long before Arumand walked in. A tiny boy for five. Marcus still ignored his presence and just kept on talking.
Lisa indulged him for a while, but then Arumand started throwing a tantrum. He practically assaulted one of Marcus’s legs and tried to remove him from the seat. Marcus was aggravated.
“Can’t you call him off?”
Lisa sighed and pried her child off of him. She took him to his room and then came back out to Marcus. Marcus was still intent on spending the night. She wasn’t having any of it.
“You should go.”
“Why?”
“Just leave, Marcus.”
“I don’t understand you. Sometimes you are nice to me and other times you just treat me like shit. I kill people for less.”
“Is that a threat?”
Marcus didn’t respond. He wasn’t stupid. Lisa was just as, if not more than, dangerous as Marcy. He wasn’t up for this. And he genuinely liked her. The only woman he could say that about. And he was certain she liked him back. What was the issue?
“Fine. I’ll leave.” Marcus did just that and walked out the kitchen, out the house, and to his car. He drove off angry and questioned for the last time this night why she wouldn’t let him in.
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