24 Days Until The End – Bad Day: My Kiss Goodnight, Part Four – Short Story

The new regime was set, Sally was in place, and the other girls followed, Belenti’s cut was sixty, but for a fledgling business, that wasn’t really that bad. All I had to do was play Killdone the right way, and then, set Belenti up, without anyone giving anything away, that’s why I left all the balls in my court and played the rest.

First I fed Killdone the story, Slim was struck down by a hostile take over, Sally and a heavy hitter, who I had no info on, were now the owners of the shit hole, Belenti was their enforcement and we, or more like Killdone was out in the cold. He was pissed, he got even more pissed when I told him about Jackson’s cover being blown and Belenti himself putting a hole in his head. He wanted to go guns blazing, wanted everyone dead, typical knee jerk reaction, but, I managed to convince him if we did, it could cause us more damaged, he went on a rant about not caring about damage, sprouted shit about wounded animals either fall over and die, or they bite back, and he wasn’t going to lay down and die. I laid my glock on the table before him and said something pretty profound, I don’t exactly remember all the words, but it was something like, tomorrow, belongs to people like Belenti, the ways of old, how Killdone and others like him built their empires, is over, people side with those who protect, not kill, we could earn more by playing this smarter, than just going in and killing everyone.

He gave me that look, the one where he doesn’t know if he wants to hit me or kiss me, he searched the faces of the others, they nodded, fuckers had taken it, I played them all, I knew they don’t like the mess we make, I knew they’d rather a different approach, and maybe, if I could work this right, everyone could get out of this fucking mess in one piece, or more importantly, I could.

He grunted, said this was on me if it all went to shit, I’d be responsible, I agreed, said it would work, and after it was all done, we’d not only have Belenti out of the way, but we’d have all his business, and more, Killdone grunted again, said we’d see, then he said the one thing I didn’t want him to, he said, if this falls into the shit, like he thinks it will, that pretty little thing that’s got my dick all hard will be taking a trip, one she’d never come back from. I swallowed, gave him my best what the fuck look, but deep down, I knew the fat fuck had my number.

All that was seven weeks ago, a lot of things happened, a lot of shit that will bore the absolute piss out of you, so I’m going to keep it simple, all you need to know is, I kept everything moving, Killdone was anxious, but let the game play, Belenti was getting stronger, dragging a lot of Killdone’s people to his side, he looked weak, like he knew he would, and some of our business partners saw that.

As for Sally, she was making serious cash, the business was moving upwards, and we developed something, you see she, she touched me in ways I can’t begin to understand, that’s when I should’ve pulled away, I shouldn’t of got as close as I did, now, as I sit here, actually fucking crying why she dies in my arms, all I can think about is making someone pay, and to be honest, it’s not because someone snuffed her out, it’s because someone actually found a way in, and you know what, I was happy, so someone has to pay. I just don’t fucking know who played their hand, but you know what, I’ll find out, and then I’ll kiss them fucking goodnight.

Published by

Matthew Tonks

People are surprised when reading Matthew’s stories that he’s a sane forty something year old, happily married, father of one, employed full time and dream of dark disturbing things that any sane person would never even contemplate thinking of. But it's true, he’s toyed with writing for most of his adult life, but has always found the peg a writer must fit into is not the shape he wished to be. His writing can be described as lamenting, long, concussive (yes it smashes you in the head), compulsive, and stuffed with rhythmic communication and violence, let’s not forget the violence. His own opinion on his writing is this, “You see, I don't just want the words to seep into your mind, but into your soul, showing you images of blood and beauty through, volatile language, violence, sex, love and sin. My muse takes different shapes, and every now and then you can see her shining her wicked smile in some of my stories, tempting you with her promises, but ripping your heart out instead.” So have a look, and take a seat in my wayward ride, as you join me while I purge through, this twisted road of madness.

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