Page 6 of Sweet Touch of Venom
“Fuck you for bringing that up,” he scolds. “Listen, Alvarez. Do you know the lengths I have to go to clean up that mess? All the blood and bodies.”
“That’s for me tonotknow and for you to figure out.”
He releases an exasperated sigh; the sound of his lungs restricting stabs an irritant to poke at my ears. I’m ready to end this conversation. His threats are like ice under the sun. Sturdy at first, but once in contact with a burn that’ll scorch your fucking world—he melts. Talk shit on the phone, but if he sees me in person again, he’ll choke and die right there.
I scroll on my phone to click into a surveillance video as he continues to huff and puff from his lack of self awareness and shit for nothing ego.
Up pops the screen and I smirk. “Anddetective,you may want to keep me in your good graces. You never know what can be in that coffee of yours.” I glower, my smirk stretching as he puts the white foam cup to his mouth over a mess of papers stretching over his desk.
Soon as I say it, he chokes on the coffee, spitting it up over his papers, while looking at it in disgust.
Then he wipes his mouth, slamming his hand on the desk. The sound screeches through the speakers. “ALVAREZ!”
I click the end call, continuously shaking my head before spinning off into the night where other things await me.
Chapter 3
Ronan
Revenge is better served with a bloody limb
Tonight differs from every other night. This is the night I strike, and I couldn’t be more thrilled. Not jumping up and down like a petulant child, but what I have been looking forward to for years. What I trained for. What made me into the man I am today, and why every name on my list will be dead and gone. Joe, Tractor, Henley, Fred and finally Victor.
I stand in the corner of the dark space in his apartment. I arrived here no longer than ten minutes ago. Without moving my body, my eyes dart around the tiny space. It’s small and sloppy here. Thrown beer cans lay out under the rustic coffee table, mix matched shoes scattered around the living room. Not even bothering to place it neatly by the door.
Despicable.
It wasn’t difficult to find his location. He was smart enough to not keep his residence in the same place he committed the crime, but he was stupid enough to keep everything in his real name, including his address. Making it too easy to find him. A toddler could have done the job.
I stand in the corner, facing the door, where I can witness every movement or anything out of order. Footsteps clack through the door, the floorboards so lightweight you can hear every movement someone makes.
And?…
Three
Two
One
The door to his shitty home flies open, slamming into a wall. The dry wall from where the knob hit breaks off into tiny pieces, falling to the floor.
There tumbles in Tractor, drunk or high off his ass, bald with a patchy beard. Why are they all always intoxicated? Is it to mask the shame within themselves from the terrible things they've done, the lives they've destroyed?
“Ugh.” He groans loud with extra grunts, and it’s taking everything in me to not chuck my gun directly at his throat.
His phone rings, and I stay quiet in the corner.
“Yeah?” Bringing the phone to his ear, he sits down. Before he can relax on the sofa, his back straightens, snapping forward, and his face pales just a bit.
A grin comes to me. I can’t help it. This is where the real fun begins.
“It’s all in your head, Henley. Joe dying was just a coincidence. Stop worrying your mind.”
It wasn’t a coincidence.
But it also wasn’tmewho caused the tragic scene that I very much wish I inflicted. Two days ago, I saw Joe and had him right where I wanted him. I should’ve killed him. A bullet right to the head outside that bar while his girl for the night suffered his blood stained on her face and clothes. But what fun would that have been? No pain or agony? No torture for his sins? So I decided to go to his place last night, only to find him hangingfrom a tree behind his house, face distorted, mutilated with open wounds and slices all over his body. One thing that stood out the most was the letter ‘V’ carved deep across his entire abdomen. So deep, the meat from the ripped cartilages puffed out.
It was absolutely impressive, and I should’ve been satisfied, but I’m not.
