I took a drag of my smoke and chased it with a swig from the pint. It was worth it, and I fucking knew it.
I didn’t want to admit it, but it was the goddamn truth. As I sat there staring at the busted up door and alternating between smoke and bottle, all I could think about was Kelly. The whiskey was doing nothing to calm my head or my cock. All it did was make me want to fly down the street, storm her door, and rip off that cute little outfit she was wearing. I wanted to see her face as she sat that tight * on my cock, watch her eyes widen as I bounced her up and down and made her perky tits jump.
Fucking hell. You’ve got to get out of town, pal. You’re fucking slipping.
Hell of a day.
As I put the nearly drained bottle down on the table next to me, the song ended downstairs and there was quiet.
What shit are we going to listen to next, boys?
I couldn’t hear anything and thought for a moment they were about to drink in silence, like real men. Then I heard a slow pounding start up, but it wasn’t a drum beat. It was the door outside swinging shut and the sound of footsteps climbing my stairs. Two sets.
No one knew I was here. No one needed to be here except me. No one was leaving here except me.
I slid open the drawer on my bedside table and had a decision to make. Pistol or steel?
I settled on steel. I figured if I was going to waste the two motherfuckers climbing my steps there was no need to frighten the civilians anymore than I already had. Make it quiet, make it quick. Stash the bodies in this shit heap of an apartment and be on my way. The last order of business for Hunter Donnelly in Stone Peak, Montana.
The footsteps stopped just outside my door and a fist pounded three times, slow and steady.
Shit, at least they had the courtesy to knock.
You’re kinder men than me, fellas. Fucking dumber, but kinder.
I let my hand holding the blade fall to my side as I made my way to the door. Looked like there was going to be some more bloodshed and sweat left on this town, but what could I do? Trouble finds trouble. That’s just the way it was.
Hell of a day.
Chapter 15
Hunter
THE KNOCKS CAME AGAIN, AND a little bit louder than before.
I’m coming, motherfuckers. Don’t you worry.
I wrapped my hand around the door handle, took a deep breath, and ripped it open, stepping out of the way of whatever was standing outside and about to come crashing in.
A fist came flying through the door. I caught it with my free hand and lifted the body attached to it into the wall, sending a cheap painting falling to the ground and shattering the frame.
I stood there seething, with my arm pinning the fucker’s head to the wall. I was about to bring the blade up to his neck when I heard him choke his words out.
“Hunter, Hunter, it’s me, son. It’s me, Dennis.”
I looked up and sure enough, the bloodshot eyes bulging out of the terrified face staring back at me were Denny’s. I took my arm off his throat and let him drop back to his feet while he coughed and tried to catch his breath.
“Jesus, boy! What in the hell do you think you’re doing? You damn near choked the life out of me. Not to mention knock my head off while you’re at it. Just what do you think you’re doing?”
I was about to ram a piece of steel in your fucking neck and watch you bleed out, Denny. That’s what I was doing.
“Denny, shit, I’m sorry, man. With those guys at the diner earlier and all, I didn’t know who it was. You didn’t say who it was.”
And you almost fucking paid the price, asshole. Know whose door you’re knocking on, Denny. You saw the punks in the diner. You should know by now.
“You need a stiff drink, son” Denny said, but then caught a whiff of my breath. “Judging by that gasoline coming off you, you’ve already started. Maybe have a few more, finish the bottle. Calm those nerves down a bit. Today was a mess, but don’t let it rattle you, boy.”
Shut your fucking mouth, Denny. I’ve still got a blade behind my back and it’s still got your name on it if you fucking want it to. Rattle me? Those punks in the diner were my pleasure. It’s that waitress with the green eyes and tight * that’s got my mind spinning. I’d tell you what we did, but I don’t want to give you a hard on or a heart attack.
“Yeah, maybe you’re right, Denny. Fuck. I’m sorry, man. Rough morning.”
Suddenly a voice behind me spoke up. A voice I recognized.
“Ah, Dennis, he’s been jumpy since the day I met him. Never was the mellow type, Old Hunter.”
Deacon?
I turned around and saw the closest thing I ever had to a friend standing there in my doorway. Shit, he was my friend. He was my only friend and the only person I could stand to be around that I wasn’t about to kill or fuck.
“Deacon, man, what the fuck? I mean how?” I tossed the blade in a pile of clothes so Denny wouldn’t hear it drop, and shook Deacon’s hand. He pulled me in and tapped my back twice with his fist.