Emmy saw Sammy eyeing her up. Not surprising with what she wasn’t wearing. Lot of firm young flesh on show. Curves in all the right places. She didn’t have to flirt; his eyes told her what he wanted. Well she wasn’t going to discourage him, until they moved into the bedroom. Play the helpless victim. “Well, now what? Now that you’ve got me tied up.”
Sammy smirked. “First I’m going to get to know you a lot better, you know what I mean, and then when I’m satisfied you’re going to cooperate real good we can talk about what happened in Stockton.” His face clouded a bit. “And if I’m still in a good mood, I’ll just take the bucks and any other evidence you got on BG.”
Emmy put on a puzzled expression. Play along, according to plan. “Stockton?” she asked. “Who are you?” Wrong question.
“Sammy De Maggio. Ruth De Maggio’s brother. Does that ring a bell?” He sounded annoyed.
She pretended to be shocked. Shut her mouth, not saying anything. Waited for him to calm down.
The irritation passed. “Anyway we can talk about that later,” he said, moving over to her and dragging her up. “Look at you. The way you dress. Pushing your points out at me. You’re just a cock-teasing bimbo.”
She pretended to resist. A token struggle to break free. She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry – please don’t hurt me.” She stopped and turned to face him. Moved in closer so he could feel her heat. She put on an eager puppy expression. “We can talk first, okay?”
He wasn’t having any of that. He jerked her arm. “Get in the bedroom now.”
Emmy smiled inwardly. How easy it was to manipulate men. Get them horny: their brain moved to their pants. She padded into the bedroom as he asked. Making sure her ass moved sensually underneath the mini skirt. Now she had to cool it down. Get him sitting next to her so Mason could strike. She sat down on the edge of the bed, her back to the walk-in. “Sammy, listen to me. I had nothing to do with Ruth. It was all BG’s fault.”
Sammy wasn’t listening. He pushed her back on the bed. Roughly. “I told you to can it. Face down, bitch.”
The ticking of her bedside clock penetrated her senses. She began to feel frightened. Hold on girl. Just a few more moments, Mason will strike.
Tick tock. Tick tock.
What if it all goes wrong?
Why had she gone along with such a crazy plan?
The money; yes the money. Fuck the money.
She heard the sound of his zipper as he got on the bed beside her.
Tick tock. Tick tock.
She felt her skirt being pushed up, and then he tugged at her panties, rolling them off her body and down her legs. Oh god, please help.
She felt the scream explode from her lips, but Sammy hit her. “Sammy, not that. Don’t do this. Please don’t,” she cried. Not pretending any more. Sobbing now. Real tears. She tried to wriggle away but he slapped her head again. Harder this time.
“Just lay still bitch,” he said, “unless you want your pretty face all roughed up.”
With her arms tied she was helpless. He brutally pushed her legs apart and began to mount her. She began to hyperventilate in fear. This wasn’t part of the plan.
It wasn’t meant to be like this. She felt an alien hungrily forcing its way inside. Desecrating her. Looking to plant its seed.
The alarm went off in her head.
He began to hurt her.
No. No. Please no. Not that. Please. Oh fuck...Silent tears flowed down her face.
Why didn’t Mason strike? She choked back stinging, burning bile. “Help...me. Please.”
Emmy’s sobs and screams for help were echoing around Mason’s head but he waited...tick tock...waited until Sammy groaned with lust. Now he would have full justification for exacting the appropriate revenge for violation of his partner in crime, maybe also life. An honor killing. How apt.
He crashed out of the walk-in, knife in hand, and jumped on top of him, pinning Sammy’s torso like meat in a sandwich. He reached up and grabbed Sammy’s head, and wrenched it to one side. Gave enough space for Emmy to wriggle clear. She just laid there, a wet coating of blood and semen dripping down her thighs. Silent racking sobs, her face buried in her pink pillowcase. Now damp, with her tears and vomit.
Sammy’s eyes went wide when he saw him, and then he flinched as the blade tip pierced his throat. “Move and you’re dead,” said Mason in a way that Sammy would recognize. The impassionate voice of a killer. No emotion, just get the job done and walk away.
Sammy didn’t struggle. But he put on a show of defiance, despite his predicament. “What the fuck you want?”
“Answers Sammy, answers,” replied Mason, “like who told you that the serial killer had a link to the Bees?” He dug the blade tip in further, so Sammy would know he wanted an immediate response.
Sammy’s eyes rolled. He tried to reason. “I’ll do a deal. The briefcase out there contains quarter of a million bucks. It’s yours, you let me go.”
Mason laughed. Typical street-wise mobster. Say anything to get out of a hole. “It’s mine any time I want to take it Sammy. You’re offering me diddlysquat.” He pressed down harder on Sammy with his knee, pulled back his hair and whispered in his ear. “Do you want me to repeat myself?”
“Wait,” whimpered Sammy. His one show of boldness deflated. “It was an undercover cop. I haven’t got a name, that’s the goddamn truth, but he looked a bit like a young James Garner.”
“You know him?”
Mason knew him. Mackenzie. The one that had been sniffing around BG mainly, making noises. Well the cop knew nothing, but he’d better be careful not to be seen around. No loose ends. He tugged at Sammy’s hair again. “Anything else I ought to know?”
Sammy threw in a curve ball. Desperate now. “I got another quarter million stashed in my limo outside. You let me go, and it’s yours.”
Mason paused. Emmy had rolled over to look at them. She was grimacing with pain, but her tear-stained face said it all. Eyes wide open. Surprise.
Nice try, Sammy. All Sammy wanted was to get him outside where Mike would take care of him for good. Pity the big ape hadn’t got close enough to the walk-in for a silent kill. He laughed in a derisive manner. “Where you get a quarter million from - the money tree?”
“Listen, it’s for real,” Sammy blurted out, sweating profusely. “BG paid me big money to terminate the girl. Half million all told. You got one stash here and the other half is sitting in my limo outside.”
Another quarter million? That would really set him up. He toyed with Sammy and mimicked the Guinea’s voice. “I let you go and I have the mob on my back, huh? You think I’m stupid or something.”
Sammy started to plead. “You kill me you’ll have the mob on your back, that’s a dead cert. You let me go, and I’ll give you my word I’m off your back. Please Coach.”
Mason paused again. Let the guinea think he was going to take up the offer.
Sammy’s eyes lit up. Didn’t whine when he said it. “Take the money, a cool half million.”
“You’ve said enough,” replied Mason. He was tiring of this game. Males never got him excited enough. “You’re not on my back, I’m on yours.” The look of fear and the stench of Sammy’s bowels opening was enough to trigger the knife. He stifled a laugh as he sliced the blade through Sammy’s larynx, and severed the carotid artery.
Emmy’s screams were like music to his ears. She would be much more fun.