“Why don't you start by telling me why you want this done.”
“But I thought,” She whispers toward me, her elbow on the table, hand covering her face as if it would shield her somehow. “I just had to hand over the information and the money and that would be it.”
“It's not that simple. You want help, you need to tell me why. The Exorcist only helps those who really need and truly deserve it. Do you really need and deserve it?”
I don't know her real name. Names aren't needed. They never are. I could find out who they are, the people who hire me, of course, I could. But I don't. I don't go into their backgrounds. All I need is the name of the “Bastard” and why they need sorting. Once I have the information, I'll have it checked out to make sure I haven't been lied to. Once Marlon comes back with what he's found out, if it is the truth, I'll act.
“Can I get you, girls, anything?” Waitress, blonde, young, ditzy. Probably a college student hoping for a tip, that's why she's smiling at us like we're her meal ticket, asks. I ask her for coffee and wave her off.
I wait until she drops it off before telling the woman in front of me to get to the point already. I don't have time to hang around. They have but fifteen minutes from the time I walk into a place till the time I leave it to convince me.
“I'm not going to sit here and spin you a sob story about how he beat me all the time. He did. But I will tell you how he beat my five-year-old son to death and got away with it.”
“How did that happen?” I'm genuinely interested. He killed her son and got away with it. That, to me, is crazy.
“Cain is a manipulator,” Her short thumbnails scratch the sides of her coffee cup. “He convinced the cops that my boy had fallen from the bedroom window. Two stories. According to the MD, my baby's injuries were consistent with a fall, but she couldn't rule out that he wasn't beaten.
“The jury believed my husband's bullshit and he was released. He was given a restraining order to stay away from me. But he walks around like he hasn't a care in the world. Got a new life, a new family, while my baby is gone.” I can't even imagine how in the hell she's survived this.
My mind flits to the baby I left behind. What would it do to me should I lose what this woman in front of me has lost? How would I go on? I may've run from my child, but I did it for the best reasons. I am not a stable person. I live a dangerous life. I will not put my child in danger when I don't have to. I have my child's best interests at heart. I swear that I do.
“How in the world is it fair that he gets to walk away from what he did, find a new family, and I'm left heartbroken and wondering why my baby isn't here with me anymore?” She wipes the tears from her cheeks. I see so much pain in those green colored contacted eyes of hers. She's a grieving mother who wants revenge on the man who stole her child's life.
I'm going to help her. No mother should have to go through what she's going through, what she'll always be going through because of the man she thought she loved, who she thought loved her.
“Do you have the information you were asked for?”
Her eyes widen, still glistening with tears. “You mean he'll help me?”
I hold my hand out to her. She hurriedly rifles through her large purse, finding the envelope I assume holds what I need, and hands it to me. “Is everything inside?”
“Yes,” She nods frantically. “Everything that I was asked to gather, plus the payment.”
“Good.” I tuck it inside my jacket and get to my feet. She gets to her feet and I hug her for appearance's sake. “It will all be over this time tomorrow. Believe me,”
“Thank you. Thank you so much.” I pull away, nod once and walk away from her. She will never see me again, nor will she see the murdering bastard she used to be married to.
* * *
Men. They're so weak. So very fuckin' weak it's laughable. They see a pretty face in a bar, enjoy a little flirting, can't believe their damn luck that a beautiful young woman would want to leave with them. Wives forgotten, they always follow.
Lead men by the dick and they'll follow. No matter who they are.
Take my assignment, for instance, I call them that because I don't want to know who they are. I get their names but I don't use them. They don't deserve the recognition.
Anyway, he was at the bar just as his ex-wife explained. It took five minutes of flirting before he was asking me back to his hotel room. One he'd booked for a “special” lady. Shame he didn't get the night he was hoping for.
He tried to kiss me, I wouldn't allow it. His hand on my ass in the elevator was enough. Told him I liked to be in charge and if he lay down on the bed I'd make all his dreams come true.
Idiot couldn't wait to get on that damn bed.
I could've done without having to see his tiny fucking dick, rock hard and standing to attention. I seriously think he's the smallest man I've ever seen. But whatever, each to their own.
He watched as I removed the tiny dress from my body, leaving me in my sexy underwear. His fucking eyes almost popped out his fuckin' head. Just the reaction I wanted. Motherfucker couldn't believe his damn luck.
I handcuffed him to the headboard and then straddled his lap. Made me cringe inside but it was necessary. I watched as he squirmed beneath me as I leaned down to whisper in his ear. “Is this what you wanted?”
“Yes!” His enthusiasm was laughable.
“Ever taken a little something to keep you going?”
He shook his head.
I lifted to look at him with an innocent but mischievous smile on my face. His big brown eyes sparkled with lust, and the smile on his face told me he'd do anything I asked of him as long as he'd get what he wanted from me.
I leaned over the bed, grabbing my jacket, I pulled out the small baggy with two small blue pills inside. I giggled while holding the baggy up for him to see. He narrowed his eyes, so I did what I knew I had to to get him where I wanted him. I unclasped my bra and dropped it beside me, and let him stare wide-eyed at my tits sitting pert on my chest. He was practically salivating.
Oh yeah, he wanted me badly.
I ground my hips into him, my panty-covered pussy rubbing against his tiny dick, giving him a taste of what he thought was to come. He groaned so loudly I thought he'd come on the damn spot.
I took the pills from the baggy and leaned down, my breasts brushing his hairy chest.
Took all I had not to gag!
“Open your mouth. I want you to fuck me for hours and hours, this will help you do that.” Seductive was my tone, my pussy grinding harder against his tiny dick. Did nothing for me, I wasn't even slightly wet, but it did a hell
of a lot for him.
He opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out. I popped the pills in and smiled as he swallowed both pills. “You're so fuckin' sexy. Let me touch you.” I giggled like a stupid hooker working her trick for everything she could get from him.
I removed the handcuffs. This was all too easy. He touched my right breast lightly before his eyes rolled and he fell asleep. Filthy fuck!
I dressed quickly before making a quick call to let Marlon know the job was done.
“What's for me to clean up this time? A hotel of all things? Jesus Christ!”
“Shut up, Marlon, I know what I'm doing,” I told him. “And there's no mess to clean up.”
“What? No bloodbath?” He laughed.
I rolled my eyes while grabbing my clutch and checking the room to make sure I'd left nothing behind. There would be no fingerprints because I still hadn't removed the satin gloves I was wearing. That was my assignment’s kink. Lucky for me.
“I gave him a little something to help him sleep. A little something that is completely untraceable after thirty minutes. Something that right now is causing a massive, fatal heart attack.” I chuckled to myself.
“You're an evil bitch, Nova.” He laughed.
He was right, I'm evil. But you can't have feelings and connections in this job. I don't feel anything for those I take out. Never will.
“Right. Look, I need you to call the front desk in about fifteen minutes and ask to be put through to room five-five-four. They won't be able to. Wait half an hour and try again. Then tell them it's an emergency and you need to speak to him right away. They'll send someone to the room and they'll find him.”
“Job done.”
“Job done.” I parroted back before ending the call.
Was I worried that the police would find out?
No, they'll just think he was a kinky fuck who had a heart attack and died. But it does help that I know one or two cops that know their stuff. They don't know who the hell I am, and the police would no doubt love to haul The Exorcist in, but they'll never find me. Every person I take out is a bad one. I've never just killed for the sake of it, and never an innocent person. I do my research before I do the job. You never know who might be feeding you false info.