The Secrets We Keep, chapter 4
"You owe me money," yhe hooded woman said, pushing Tré into the wall.
"What the fuck are you talking about? I don't even know you!"
The woman pushed back her hood, revealing firey red hair. "Now do you know me?"
The look in Tré's eyes immediately changed from fear to contempt. He glared at her. "You're a hard face to forget, you whore. I don't owe you any money, Sheriden," Tré shoved her away.
"Don't you play with me Tré! Don't forget who's holding the gun here. And don't you dare think for a second I won't kill you," she raised the gun to his head. "Because I will. You owe me for the weed you bought last month. You said two weeks and I'd have the money. Now I'm charging interest. Either you hand over the money now or I pull this trigger," she glanced over at me, "Your little girlfriend will be following shortly after."
"I paid you the fucking money! You probably just went out and bought some crack with it instead of passing it on."
"Not paying then? So be it," her gun clicked as she loaded it.
A bang echoed down the alley and the woman fell to the ground.
I walked over to Tré and kicked over the corpse. My shot had gone through her neck. But that wasn't the only place she was bleeding. Her stomach was also leaking a large amount of blood. I looked at Tré to find he too had his gun out and was holding it at his side.
He looked at me. "Let's go. People tend to not care when scum like her die, but just to be sure..." he lead me back out of the alley and towards the apartment at a leisurely pace.
"Was that your first?" Tré asked as we turned onto our street.
"Kill? Ya, why?"
"No reason. You just seem very calm about it. And when you kicked her over, there was this look in your eyes..." he shook his head, "nevermind."
I raised an eyebrow. "Why shouldn't I be calm? She was going to kill you because you didn't pay her although I'm guessing you did. Hmm, friend versus drug dealing hooker, do I even need to tell you who wins that competition?" What'd you get anyway?"
"Just weed. And yes, I did pay for it. Got it for John's good bye party and never used it. That man is no fun now that he's going to college. He's talking it waaay too seriously if you ask me."
"Whatever. You're a better drummer anyways."
"Aww thanks, hun," he paused with unlocking the door and leaned in to kiss me.
I pushed his face away and walked inside. "Fat chance, hun. In my world, compliments don't equal sex. Or at least, most of the time., I winked at him and closed the door. Leaving Tré to figure our how to enter his own apartment through a locked door and a roomie with his keys.
- - -
Billie called bright and early the next morning, as bright and early eleven a.m. on an overcast Californian day can be, to apologize to me. Naturally just hearing from him got me steamed, so I hung up. Then he called again. And again. And again. Finally after an hour of hanging up on Billie, and the twitch in my left eye had gotten so bad I could hardly see out of it, I screamed "I killed a hooker because you kicked me out!" into the phone, slammed it down on the receiver and shoved it disconnected into the hall closet.
"Someone's a little touchy this morning," Tré said, coming up behind me with two cups of coffee. He handed me one, "I knew you were mad at Billie, but I had no idea you were so angry you would blame the death of an innocent drug dealing hooker on him."
"No one can stand that many phone calls in one hour. I had to do something to make him stop calling me...even if it would be for a few minutes. At least now he can't call."
Tré went into the hall closet and reconnected the phone as he spoke. "Well, however mad you are at Billie, I'm expecting a call. So, I'll deal with him the next time he calls. In the meantime, since you just moved down here, I suspect your in need of a job. Am I right?"
"Yes..." I answered suspiciously.
"Good. Because I might just have something in mind."
"What the fuck are you talking about? I don't even know you!"
The woman pushed back her hood, revealing firey red hair. "Now do you know me?"
The look in Tré's eyes immediately changed from fear to contempt. He glared at her. "You're a hard face to forget, you whore. I don't owe you any money, Sheriden," Tré shoved her away.
"Don't you play with me Tré! Don't forget who's holding the gun here. And don't you dare think for a second I won't kill you," she raised the gun to his head. "Because I will. You owe me for the weed you bought last month. You said two weeks and I'd have the money. Now I'm charging interest. Either you hand over the money now or I pull this trigger," she glanced over at me, "Your little girlfriend will be following shortly after."
"I paid you the fucking money! You probably just went out and bought some crack with it instead of passing it on."
"Not paying then? So be it," her gun clicked as she loaded it.
A bang echoed down the alley and the woman fell to the ground.
I walked over to Tré and kicked over the corpse. My shot had gone through her neck. But that wasn't the only place she was bleeding. Her stomach was also leaking a large amount of blood. I looked at Tré to find he too had his gun out and was holding it at his side.
He looked at me. "Let's go. People tend to not care when scum like her die, but just to be sure..." he lead me back out of the alley and towards the apartment at a leisurely pace.
"Was that your first?" Tré asked as we turned onto our street.
"Kill? Ya, why?"
"No reason. You just seem very calm about it. And when you kicked her over, there was this look in your eyes..." he shook his head, "nevermind."
I raised an eyebrow. "Why shouldn't I be calm? She was going to kill you because you didn't pay her although I'm guessing you did. Hmm, friend versus drug dealing hooker, do I even need to tell you who wins that competition?" What'd you get anyway?"
"Just weed. And yes, I did pay for it. Got it for John's good bye party and never used it. That man is no fun now that he's going to college. He's talking it waaay too seriously if you ask me."
"Whatever. You're a better drummer anyways."
"Aww thanks, hun," he paused with unlocking the door and leaned in to kiss me.
I pushed his face away and walked inside. "Fat chance, hun. In my world, compliments don't equal sex. Or at least, most of the time., I winked at him and closed the door. Leaving Tré to figure our how to enter his own apartment through a locked door and a roomie with his keys.
- - -
Billie called bright and early the next morning, as bright and early eleven a.m. on an overcast Californian day can be, to apologize to me. Naturally just hearing from him got me steamed, so I hung up. Then he called again. And again. And again. Finally after an hour of hanging up on Billie, and the twitch in my left eye had gotten so bad I could hardly see out of it, I screamed "I killed a hooker because you kicked me out!" into the phone, slammed it down on the receiver and shoved it disconnected into the hall closet.
"Someone's a little touchy this morning," Tré said, coming up behind me with two cups of coffee. He handed me one, "I knew you were mad at Billie, but I had no idea you were so angry you would blame the death of an innocent drug dealing hooker on him."
"No one can stand that many phone calls in one hour. I had to do something to make him stop calling me...even if it would be for a few minutes. At least now he can't call."
Tré went into the hall closet and reconnected the phone as he spoke. "Well, however mad you are at Billie, I'm expecting a call. So, I'll deal with him the next time he calls. In the meantime, since you just moved down here, I suspect your in need of a job. Am I right?"
"Yes..." I answered suspiciously.
"Good. Because I might just have something in mind."
