Since I don’t have the time to deal with typing delusional messages back and forth with him, I decide to Facetime him. Heanswers right away. The box on my laptop fills with his tattooed chest before his face comes into view. He grins at me like he just won the lottery, while I’m panicking and losing my shit.
“Hey, sweetheart. You missing me already? Not sure if my balls recovered enough to fuck you, but my tongue works just fine.”
“Shut up!” I tell him. “I…I need your help.”
“Your fingers can’t reach that spot like mine can?”
“Stop, just…stop. Please,” I huff as I run my shaking fingers through the front of my hair. “Why weren’t you stalking me tonight?” I snap at him as tears well up in my eyes.
“Huh? You told me hours ago to stop stalking you!” he exclaims, then studies me on the screen. “Wait, are you crying? Shit. I’m on my way,” he says as the image of him moves, and I’m looking at darkness, like he tossed the phone down on a surface. A moment later, his face returns. A shirt now covers his shoulders and chest. “What happened?”
“Some guy…a detective, or at least I think he’s a real detective, just showed up to my apartment. He said it was urgent. I was handing him a beer when he started to pull his gun on me!”
“Fuck. Are you in your bedroom? Stay there. No. Go lock yourself in the bathroom. I’m coming —”
“He’s dead,” I tell him before he can end the call, dread turning my stomach as I speak the words aloud for the first time.
“Dead?” Tristan’s eyes are wide when his face reappears. “You killed him?”
I nod.
“Nice job, sweetheart. Wasn’t sure you had it in you.”
“Would you stop with the sweetheart bullshit! A man is dead, and…and I called you instead of 9-1-1 because…becausehe might be working with someone else in the department who wants me dead. I don’t even know why!”
“I’ll get rid of his body. Nobody except those working with him will ever know what went down tonight. I’ll find them before they get anywhere near you.”
It’s hard to believe he’s so quick to offer to help me, but I guess murder isn’t something that is all that new to the mobster.
And I don’t bother asking what it will cost me for his help. I already know I’ll pay whatever he wants.
17
Tristan
“Did you send some cop after Kirsten?” I ask Creed as soon as he answers his phone while I break every traffic law on the way to Kirsten’s apartment.
“What? No.”
“You better not be lying to me,” I warn him. “She gave us what we wanted. The cases are dismissed. Leave her the fuck alone.”
“Look, man, I’m not sure what’s gotten into you, but you need to calm the fuck down about this woman.”
“I can’t calm down because I’m on my way to her apartment to deal with the body of the man she just killed!”
“What?” Creed huffs.
“Either a real cop, or someone pretending to be a cop, came over to her place tonight. For some reason, she let him in, and then he tried to murder her. She got him first.”
“And why do you know this shit? What does it have to do with you?”
“Because she called me instead of the cops. Obviously, she can’t trust them. Someone still wants her dead. That’s why I’m asking you to tell me the truth.”
“I haven’t sent anyone after her.”
“Well, someone is still gunning for her. And I doubt they’ll give up after this failure.”
“Do you need my help?” he asks with a heavy sigh.
