In one quick motion, he jammed the tip of the shovel into the freshly dug dirt hard enough so it stood straight up. Wiping the sweat off his brow with his bloodstained shirt, he was able to take a moment’s break before he climbed out, using the pile of dirt he had expertly removed and placed to get out of the eight-by-nine-foot hole. After he got out and looked down at his masterpiece, he thought it definitely looked much different up here than it did down there.
Going over to the form wrapped in a dark sheet, he kicked it until it rolled over, falling into what seemed like an abyss. You could always hear when it hit the bottom from the loud thud, and it never failed to bring a smile to his face.
Pulling out his cigarettes and lighter from his dirt-covered jeans, he took a seat on the ledge before he put a cigarette between his teeth. The zippo came to life with a flick of his wrist, and he lit the end, taking a long, deep drag.
He knew he shouldn’t take the time for a smoke break, but it was a graveyard, after all.
Halfway through his cigarette, his phone began vibrating, and even though he didn’t recognize the number, he had a pretty good guess of who it was.
A sexy female voice came over the line. “Is this Lucca?”
Smiling, he exhaled the smoke that filled his mouth. “Yes, darlin’, it is.”
“What are you doing?” She giggled.
Getting up, Lucca knew the hot blonde he had given his number to earlier in the night was going to be easy. “Smoking,” he answered, starting the easy climb down from his pile of dirt. “And wondering when you were going to decide to call me.”
She pretended to sound shocked by his answer. “I guess you’re not busy, then?”
At the bottom again, he could see the form he had tossed in earlier. The sheet had revealed a cold, bloody face that had a bullet right between his eyes. “Not at all.”
“Can I meet you in an hour, then?”
Lucca inhaled, making the cigarette illuminate his rugged appearance. “That depends on how hard you like to be fucked.”
The phone went dead silent before her voice came back, practically moaning, “As hard as you can give.”
“I’ll make you regret that, darlin’,” he warned her.
If she hadn’t been moaning before, she was definitely doing it now. “No, you won’t.”
“One hour,” he told her before killing the call. It was going to be a bit longer than an hour before he could get to her, but making her wait for him was half the fun. Giving her a warning that she was going to regret that statement was about the nicest thing he had done all day, and he was going to live up to his promise.
Flicking his bud on the dead body, he looked down at the man no one was ever going to see again. Any family or friends he left behind would never get closure.
“Fucker.”
Lucca couldn’t care less. The man had gotten what was coming. The only thing that upset him was the fact that he had let the man almost bite his hand off.
They had wanted to keep him alive to question him, but when Lucca had let go from the bite, his boss had shot him right between the eyes.
Getting back to the matter at hand, he picked the shovel back up and began transferring the pile of dirt back into its place. With each sling of dirt, more and more of the body was covered until the man no longer existed on this earth.
Lucca took pride in leveling out the dirt to make it flat once again. The hole was six feet deep exactly when he threw the shovel up and out of it. Though he no longer had his nice incline of dirt to help him get out, it wasn’t hard for him to take a running jump out of it with his six-foot-three stature.
Now looking down at it from up here, you wouldn’t even know he had disturbed the open grave or that there was already a man laid to rest.
By tomorrow, a Mary Johnson would be lowered in, according to the already placed grave marker, and the dirt would seal not only her, but the asshole beneath her.
“Mr. Johnson, you’ll meet Mrs. Johnson tomorrow.”
Picking up his stuff, he admired his work one final time. It was scary how good he had gotten at this now.
Good-bye, Mr. Johnson. I’ll bring you more friends soon.
Twenty-Four
I’m Gonna Pass. I’m Not into Dick
Parking his car behind Nero’s and Vincent’s on the street, he got out, wondering why Nero had dragged them to Stephanie’s house late at night.
“Did you take long enough to fucking get here, Amo?” Nero asked him.
“Listen, if we’re here to have a foursome with Stephanie, I’m gonna pass. I’m not into dick,” Amo retorted.
“The last thing I would want to see is your dick. Besides, you don’t have to worry”—Nero flashed a smile—“I already took care of Stephanie, and even though I just dropped her off, I’m sure she’s already passed out.”
Vincent flashed his own smile. “I bet I could wake her up.”
“For fuck’s sake.” Amo was on the verge of a headache. “Can you just tell me why I’m here? Then you two can go back to sucking your own dicks.”
Nero’s face turned dark, getting serious. “There was a murder tonight.”
Blankly staring at him for a moment, Vincent still wanted to know why he was here. “Okay …?”