Guilty Photographs Page 6

  The doors to the limo bolted closed and they were locked inside. Nixon’s heart pounded in his ears and he knew that there was something wrong.

  “You do as he says, or your head will be blown into pieces as well as your little cousin’s and her mom’s.” The boss’s sidekick pointed a gun at Nixon. The gruff tone was harsh as if the man smoked a pack of cigarettes for all his meals. His brown eyes showed a glint of fright when Nixon stared at him, but the man didn’t waver. Instead, he showed his stained teeth when he smirked.

  Those words and that smirk were disrespecting to Nixon, and he didn’t like that. He liked order. He liked discipline. Two of the things that this situation lacked.

  Nixon was cornered as if stuck in a one-way alley with no other way to go but to face the enemy. He wasn’t sure what he’d gotten himself into. “Fine,” he said. “I have the files in my pocket, I’m going to reach for them.” He slowly moved his hands toward his pocket.

  Nixon grabbed his knife instead and flung it toward the sidekick. Before the sidekick realized what happened, the knife was lodged in his forehead. The sidekick’s head jolted and stiffened as red liquid oozed out. He slumped back toward the partition and the gun he was pointing at Nixon dropped with a loud thud on the floor.

  At the same time Nixon jabbed his elbow into the ribcage of the man sitting next to him. Nixon casually looked at his wrist and noticed that it was seven fifty-nine. “Where’s your boss?” Nixon asked him while the man was panting, trying to catch his breath.

  The boss man breathed heavy as he gasped for air. “I am the boss,” he said. He closed his eyes and held his side as he spoke.

  “Bullshit.” Nixon grabbed a second knife and jabbed it into the man’s side several times. “No one fucking threatens my family.” Nixon’s body relaxed against the black leather seat of the limo as he sat back. He let out a long breath, ignoring the two dead bodies in the limo. “That was too fucking easy.” He watched as the seconds ticked to eight a.m. on his wristwatch. “Time’s up.”

  If he was a smoker he would’ve grabbed a cigarette and lit it as his adrenaline needed something to calm it down. He instead reached in his pocket and retrieved a small blue pill wrapped in a clear wrapper. He ripped it open and swallowed it. His hands raked his hair. He let out a sigh of relief and sat back for a second longer, letting the contents of the pill soothe his energy.

  Nixon tapped on the partition as he pointed the sidekick’s 9mm gun forward. The wrinkle-ridden face of a white man with silver hair appeared as the window lowered.

  “Drive. I’ll tell you when to stop,” he told him, smoothing his hair back and looking at the two dead bodies in the vehicle. This wasn’t his first kill and the sight of blood didn’t bother him, but the smell of death did. He wanted to get to his destination so they could dispose of the bodies before the scent of death permeated his nostrils.

  The driver looked terrified at the scene, nodded, and drove without saying a word.

  Nixon grabbed his knives, wiped them off on the “boss man” slumped next to him, and concealed them back in his pocket.

  “Now how to get rid of the asshole at the coffee shop,” he muttered.

  He patted the body next to him and found a prepaid cell phone. Nixon grabbed it, and when he saw it didn’t have a passcode he dialed the last number called.

  Without waiting for a response, he quickly spoke. “Marlo, meet me at the warehouse district in an hour and bring Santino with you. Your performance along with these pathetic fools you gathered will cost you.” He gritted his teeth; he needed to lure them somehow. “I got another job for you,” he said, expecting for Marlo to comply. He didn’t like hesitation and believed that his time was valuable.

  Nixon ended the call before Marlo had a chance to respond. Nixon threw the cell across the window. The screen shattered into tiny microscopic pieces, landing on his exposed skin.

  “I hate working with incompetent fools wasting my time. I’ll have to send Quincy for the real meeting.”

  Chapter 6

  Several hours later Barbara stood outside of Nixon’s apartment. She took a moment standing in front of the dark mahogany door, taking in the coolness of the cold air-conditioned hallway in anticipation of the heated conversation she needed to have with Nixon. She brushed her worries off her shoulders and figured it was now or never. She pressed the doorbell and the generic ding-dong was short-lived, replaced by the sound of two deadbolts unlatching and the swift clinking of the chain sliding back as Nixon casually appeared shirtless.

  He was slim but maintained a muscular body. He had broad shoulders from doing pull-ups and sit-ups in his spare time and running three miles after he took Reagan to school, which gave his skin a nice suntanned appearance.

  He lived just before Huntersville and the upscale city of Great Springs Lake met. His neighborhood was busy, since he lived near the new up-and-coming downtown and close to the nightlife, restaurants, and tourist area. It was filled with skyscrapers and different-sized buildings. Their varying colors were a sharp contrast to the dull monotonous severely weathered buildings in Huntersville that had seen better days.

  Living in that area helped him to blend in. It also helped with taking a break from work, once you stepped outside, or looked at the busy street from his office on the eighth floor. The scene was most spectacular at night. One day Barbara would be able to afford such a nice apartment and be able to properly support herself. One day she would be the one to marvel at her apartment view.

  Nixon was a computer genius and had been working from home since he left college. He’d landed a good position at a top computer company, handling their computer maintenance and blocking hackers from entering their database.

  He was six foot tall, had slick black hair, and a square jaw. Most women would call him handsome and no one had seen him in a relationship since he broke up with Rita four years ago, a few months after he and Barbara became good friends.

  Barbara met Rita once by chance at a coffee shop while waiting for Lori. Barbara and Lori would meet there every Monday and Friday to grab a cup of coffee before heading to their nine o’clock human anatomy class at Huntersville University. Rita was petite but with curves that made her stand out in any crowd.

  Her long wavy hair flowed past her shoulders away from her heart-shaped face, accentuating her long neck. She was beautiful. When Lori introduced them Barbara felt uneasy; the short hairs on her arm stood, sending a ripple of warning through her body when they shook hands.

  They invited Rita to sit with them. Rita looked nervous, stumbling over her words and fidgeting with the sugar shaker on the table, a contrast to the confident woman she saw waiting for her coffee before they met. Barbara couldn’t remember the conversation they had as Rita stormed out mid-sentence and shortly after was arrested for stalking Nixon.

  Barbara hadn’t seen him since she’d had to lie low when she nearly got caught after last month’s heist. Barbara worked well with Nixon and she enjoyed his enthusiasm when he spoke about his gadgets; how he would get lost in the realm of computers. His eyes would sparkle, and his smile would never leave his face when he was immersed in conversation about technology.

  “Hey,” he said nervously. “If I’d known you were coming, I would’ve cleaned up.” He stepped aside. She looked up at him with a half-smile as she stepped inside.

  “It’s fine. I came because I need to speak to you,” she said, walking further into the apartment.

  She walked around discarded toys and clothes lying around the tiled living room floor. The apartment was quite spacious. It had a large living and dining area combo with an open-concept feel. The kitchen had stainless-steel appliances, dark brown cabinetry, and white quartz countertops.

  “Is Lori still at work?” she asked while scanning the room from where she stood.

  “Yeah, she won’t be back till later today,” he said, looking at her with a worried expression.

  She walked around the house and he continued to look at her suspiciou
sly as his eyes followed her movements.

  “Good.” She nodded. “So… where’s Reagan?”

  “I dropped her off at daycare a few hours ago.” He crossed his arms on his chest, still looking at her. “If you’re here this early you must need me for something big.”

  “Am I that predictable?” She stopped and turned toward him.

  “No, but I know you well by now. You and my cousin have been friends for four years and I’ve picked up a few quirky things you tend to do.”

  “Oh, really? Lori and I aren’t as close as we used to be.” She placed her hands on her hips.

  He closed the distance between them. His chest heaved in anticipation of feelings that she suppressed. Barbara’s hands dropped to her sides as she looked into his eyes.

  “I know. That’s only because your interests and priorities have changed,” he whispered.

  She playfully swatted his arm. “You know exactly how to get me uncomfortable, that’s for sure.” Heat rose to her cheeks and she took a step back.

  She moved around him and sat on the couch, flipping through TV channels. He seemed disappointed, but Barbara was not trying to pry into his personal life.

  “You came for my help or you came for the TV?” he asked as he sat next to her on the couch in front of the TV. He took the remote from her and turned it off.

  “Right. I have a job for us. I know after last time I almost got caught you said it was your last job, but, hear me out. This payout is huge.” There was enthusiasm in her voice. She hadn’t felt this hopeful since her eighth birthday.

  He rose from the couch and grabbed his black hair in frustration. “Barbara. You know I care about you and it’s impossible to say no to you sometimes. But I’m not doing this.”

  “I trust you. You’re the only one capable for this job. I’d rather share the money with you. I know it would benefit Lori and Reagan as well. What happened wasn’t your fault. You had no control over the power shutting off while I was in there.”

  “You’re making it hard for me.” His warm bare feet left imprints as he paced the cold living room floor.

  She wanted to hug him to reassure him that she would be fine. She knew how to take care of herself. But instead she stood and looked at him, frowning. “You know I’m going to do this job even if you don’t approve or join me.”

  His soft hands caressed her features as she discreetly leaned into his touch. She craved strong arms around her for comfort but it wasn’t the appropriate time to give in to temptation or desire.

  He brought her closer to his chest. And the intimate closeness was enough to hear the rhythm of his heart as she breathed in the faint scent of his shampoo.

  “I’ll do it if you promise me that this will also be your last job,” he said softly.

  He held her at arm’s length and stared into her eyes for confirmation, scanning her imperfect beauty.

  “You know that’s a hard promise to keep.” She stepped back and walked toward the door, leaving him standing by the couch. “I can’t promise you that everything will turn out smoothly or that this will be easy, but I can promise you that I’ll get out of anything and come back.” She hoped that her determination and drive were enough to convince him.

  His smile faded as his shoulders relaxed. The slight nod and his dejected demeanor said that she had won him over.

  He stood looking at her, not wanting to agree but also not wanting to admit defeat. But he accepted because he knew that he could keep her close to him and know of her whereabouts if he agreed. “All right, I’m in,” he sighed.

  She grinned as she faced him, but she knew that the grin on her face made her appear menacing compared to the defeated expression on his. She walked slowly toward him, still cemented to the same spot, and his eyes glimmered with her smile.

  “What is it that you want me to do?” he asked, burying his feelings.

  Chapter 7

  The house was completely quiet, and all the lights were off except for the soft recessed lighting in the hallway. Every noise was amplified, including the A/C, her breathing, and the drumming of her heartbeat. Light footsteps throughout the house startled her with every step. Not because she was afraid but because of what she had to endure.

  Her body shivered with every step Mr. Riley took toward her. He stood next to Barbara, grabbed her left nipple, and twisted it before he opened the door, leaving her kneeling naked at the entrance to his bedroom.

  “You know what to do,” he said dismissively.

  “Yes, sir.” This was such a demeaning act and she had done some awful things but this she hated. Every time she had to subject herself to this, she felt bile rise to her throat, creating an acidic lump which made her gag. But she had to refrain from vomiting as there would be consequences that she didn’t want to experience.

  He motioned for her to enter and with her head hung low she closed the door behind her and moved toward him where he was sitting on the bed.

  She bowed her head and kneeled as she started to remove his shoes and clothing. She neatly folded the clothes and placed them on the chair next to the window as she closed the blinds, making the room almost as dark as his chocolate skin.

  The only light that illuminated the room was the small gold lamp on the nightstand next to the king-size four-poster bed.

  She could feel his gaze on her and she knew that he was stroking his shaft. She walked toward him and kneeled in front of him with her hands to her sides and eyes directed at the floor.

  “May I put it in my mouth, sir?” she asked like the good submissive girl he wanted her to be.

  He nodded.

  She slowly moved toward him and he grabbed her head and guided her mouth onto his shaft, deep into her throat. She felt sick to her stomach. She wanted to bite it as hard as she could many times, but that wouldn’t be too smart since she needed him for the time being.

  “Don’t fucking gag, Barbara,” he said through moans. He was enjoying himself. Even though their arrangement was far and in between, the act repulsed her.

  Streams of tears flowed down her face as the slurping sound resonated in the room. She wasn’t allowed to touch him, so she clasped her hands behind her back. She had been doing this for years and now she had perfected the art of sucking and slurping without using her hands.

  The salty taste of her tears and her bubbly saliva lubricated his shaft as she moved in and out, hitting the back of her throat each time.

  She increased her speed and a thick fluid which was foreign to her own mixed inside her mouth and dripped down his shaft. She dared not spit it out as the last time he’d slapped her, leaving the imprint of his large hand on her small face.

  He’s close, she thought and vigorously continued her motion.

  He roughly tugged her hair, shifting her vision toward the ceiling and constricting her air flow. His shaft popped out of her mouth and slapped her face in the process.

  “Stop. I’m not ready to release yet,” he said, panting.

  He let go of her hair and she was able to finally breathe easy.

  Fuck. I almost got him, she thought.

  She remained kneeling, waiting for further commands.

  “Stand in front of me,” he said firmly.

  He shoved his fingers inside of her repeatedly, causing more harm than pleasure. She was forced to move with his strokes to ease the pain of his assault.

  Her body defied her, and her juices were flowing through his fingers, lubricating the assault.

  “I know you like this,” he moaned as he removed his fingers from inside of her and licked her juices eagerly.

  “May I proceed with something else that pleases you, sir?” she asked him, clenching her jaw and wanting to get this charade over with.

  He lay on the bed, centering himself on it. “You know what I like and how I like it,” he said.

  She crawled toward him, straddling his shaft as her pussy hovered over him, leaving her wetness behind. She moved up toward his flat abs and continued upward. H
is beard prickled her skin she placed his head between her legs and slowly sat on his face.

  He began to assault her pussy with his tongue as she gripped the headboard tight, restraining herself from squeezing her thighs together to suffocate him, ending his miserable life.

  If he could see the repulsed look on her face, he would never agree to this deal again. This wasn’t an enjoyable experience even though she enjoyed the roughness of having sex.

  She matched her movement to the rhythm of his tongue. He gripped her thighs hard, leaving fingerprints behind, and with a loud grunt he released all over himself, relieving her of having his dick plunged inside her. He held her tight until she could no longer feel him shudder beneath her.

  He shoved her aside, forcing her to lie next to him and to wait until she was dismissed. He massaged her breasts and moved his hands down her body between her legs, parting them. He placed one then two fingers inside of her, going in and out trying to please her but she was repulsed.

  “I’ve missed this, Barbara. I want you. I need you,” he said as he continued.

  “Well, I haven’t, and I hoped you treasured this because it’s the last time I’ll be doing this. My job here is done as you got your rent payment,” she said, removing his hands as she quickly got up, not looking back.

  “Barbara! Barbara!” he cried in the darkness.

  She left him chanting her name as she stomped down the dim hallways through the kitchen and down to her basement. She didn’t waste time in the shower. She grabbed her cup, splashed water on herself and with a white rag applied a generous amount of liquid soap and began to forcefully scrub his putrid odor from her body. She almost emptied the mouthwash gargling to get rid of his taste from her mouth.

  “I swear this is the last time I do this. I pray to the highest being up there that this job gets me out of this hellhole,” she muttered as she looked at herself with revulsion in the mirror.