Chapter 20
Damon left the apartment and took the elevator down to the third level. As he suspected, the fucking dolts hadn't packed the bodies in ice. They were sitting on the cart, ready to be hauled up to the service entrance when everyone was gone. Vinnie's smug expression was almost enough to make him want to bash his face in. But not yet. They had to get the bodies to the Islands.
"Hey, guys! Looks like you're all set, right!" he said with obvious delight.
"Yeah. For a little guy, he weighs a ton, ya' know," said Max. Vinnie just smirked at him.
"Say, Max, how long will it take you to get to the Marina?"
He looked up at Vinnie. "Oh, dunno. Maybe 8-9 hours. Don't want to speed or nothin'."
"Yeah, that's good thinking, Max. So, have you arranged to pick up some ice on the road?"
"Ice? What for?"
"Oh, come on, Max. Quit joking with me. It's over a hundred in the back of the van and it will be even hotter in Miami. You're not going to load them into the yacht in broad daylight, are you?"
"Uh, no, boss." His eyes were flicking over at Vinnie, who was no longer smirking. Vinnie was supposed to be the brains. It was a major screw up, the kind of detail Mama would have expected him to think of. Especially when he took over this club from this faggot.
"We'll get some ice from the freezer, Mr. D," said Vinnie. "I was planning on getting that out at the last minute, so it wouldn't melt. And, oh yeah, we'll put it in plastic bags, so it won't melt all over, too." With that 'save' his smugness returned. He could do this job as good as that phony bastard.
"Well, look. I'm sorry you two had to miss the celebration upstairs. To make up for it, I saved two bottles of the best champagne for you. Besides," he kicked at the largest lump on the cart, "it's his Anniversary next week, just about the time you get down there. It would be a shame not to toast to his good health, right?" He gave a big laugh, as if this was a great joke.
"Gee, that's real nice of you boss. Thanks." Max took possession of the bottles.
"Remember guys, work first, play later. This is the good stuff. You'll probably never have any better. So, get them in the water, arrange for them to be found, then party to your heart's content. And drink one for me, too, will you? I really owe you guys for your help with this project. When you get back, I think it's time we talked about moving you up in the organization after this. Finish this, then we'll talk."
"Hey, boss? Any chance we'll get a piece of the new girl when we get back? She's a hot one, she is."
"Well, Max, you know I don't like loose ends. But I'll tell you what. If she's still around when you get back, I'll arrange for you to have her for a while. How about that? I can't promise and I'm not sure how things are going to work out with her, but you're on, OK?"
"Gee, thanks, boss. You're da best!"
"You, too, Max. Vinnie. Drive safe."
He managed not to ball up his fists as he turned away from them. It was always the weakest links that fucked up a perfect plan. All the idiots had to do was drive to Miami, wait until nightfall, load the bodies on the yacht and sink the sucker where it could be found. It was all arranged. They couldn't fail. They couldn't. Harold's body had to be found and in the next week. It would take a while for the insurance to do an investigation and then pay out the money. And time was running out. He had to have the money in his hands in the next 21 days to make it on the books for this quarter.
He had all the signatures he needed from the stubborn little cunt to empty the account. Powers of Attorney. What a wonderfully legal way to steal. Now all they had to do was find Harold's body a long ways away from here.
Damon was feeling slightly better when he got back to the apartment. His new pet was waiting for him, naked and kneeling beside his bed. Fresh sheets, freshly showered, her hair in the thick woven braid he favored. She smelled of musk, a sensual scent she didn't usually wear. He liked it. It smelled familiar.
He called her into the bathroom and she scrubbed his body while he showered, thoroughly and with a refreshing delight. She explored him, touching him, calling him 'Master' over and over as would a child with a new toy. She dried him tenderly, his arousal evident as he led her to the bedroom. She seemed nervous, a bride on her honeymoon.
Damon picked up the black cord. It was a symbol of his dominance, his mastery over his pets. He fondled the cool silk, remembering the many different pets that had been bound by this cord. It had been passed from pet to pet, a link between them. It was a legacy.
"Master?" his new pet asked, breaking his reverie.
"Yes, Pet?" She kneeling, shivering.
"Master. I would ask your forgiveness. You were right all along. I belong to you. It was wrong of me to make you wait. Please forgive me, Master."
"Not to worry, my pet. All is forgiven."
"Oh, thank you, Master. I would love to make it up to you, if I may. And I have a request."
"And what makes you think I would grant it?"
"Because you are a wise Master. If you don't wish to, I will never ask again. But it would mean so much to me. To us, Master."
This was intriguing. He had always been attracted to her little mind. It was her sexiest feature. It kept things exciting.
"So what is your request?"
"Master, always before when you have given me the pleasure of your body, you have bound me. I would like to give you, just once, I would like to give you myself as a complete woman. I know I am your pet and unworthy. But this night, on this special occasion, let me give you my whole being, my all."
He considered her request, weighing the silken cord in his hands. It would be a novelty to have a free pet. He had had to be so wary with that Dom last night. She wouldn't let his hands near her throat and he wouldn't let hers near his, either, for that matter. And with her hands free he hardly could let himself go either, but it had been nice.
There was no rush tonight. The needle could wait. Now that those two idiots had finally taken the cart up the elevator, the building would be empty until tomorrow night. He had given instructions.
He coiled the cord in his hands and set it on the nightstand. Later. He would put it on her later.
He was not disappointed with his decision. His pet exceeded his expectations, which were very high indeed. She gave of herself completely, teasing him, exciting him over and over. The passion was mutual and frequent.
The long night passed by, cry after exalting cry filling the silence of the darkened building. Time and again his pet urged him to a new hardness he didn't think he could manage. Still she urged him on, demanding, giving herself to his pleasure.
No, it hadn't been a mistake. It was a memory he would always cherish.
When he could give her no more, his pet slipped from his side. He heard the water running into the bath, her silvery voice humming a child-like melody. Then she was urging him up again, but to his feet this time. It was as if she couldn't get enough of his body, she was touching and caressing him constantly. It was her only chance to do so and he indulged her. He was a good Master, after all.
He eased into the steaming water. It felt so good, so relaxing. Her hands were on his chest, her lips on his face. Like a good pet, she was kneeling beside him, outside the tub. Her hands found his masculinity and softly caressed him. It was not to arouse him, but to worship his superiority.
He drifted off under her calming touch. His eyes slowly closing. Just for a minute. Then he would finish his important project. It had been delicious, thrilling. She had been more of a challenge than he had thought. His greatest achievement. Turning a chance encounter into five million dollars. This was a just reward for his hard work, this delightful little pet. Too bad about her.
Mr. Smith hardly felt the prick of the needle in his neck, but he knew what had happened in the next instant. He struggled to get out of the tub, but the drug's effect was fast acting. Her aim had been true and the needle had found a blood vessel leading directly to his heart. Ten beats, fifteen at the most and his arms collapsed. Then his legs buckled as he tried to get them under him. His body shuddered, his brain having lost control of all of his voluntary muscles. Only the smooth muscles, like those of his heart and diaphragm still functioned.
He could live for hours before his lungs filled with fluid and he drowned in his own plasma. Long, terror filled hours with the blood coursing through his brain, keeping him alive, letting him wonder what had gone wrong.
Slowly his eyes rolled back down and Alex turned his head so he could see her. She wasn't crying, neither was she jubilant. The pet had turned on her master. She looked at him and caressed his face softly. He was confused. What had gone wrong? How had she known?"
"Master, I have done a terrible thing. I know you can hear me and I don't want you to die wondering what went wrong. I owe you that much.
"I knew you weren't who you said you were. I suppose I had always known it, but by then, all I wanted was to call you 'Master.' I knew for sure you were not Mr. Smith the night of the party, the night I was attacked. So much happened that night. I tried to ignore it, but tonight I couldn't ignore it any longer.
"But I knew even before that, on my second visit. You made me wait for you by your desk. I saw you sign your name on some contracts. You didn't sign it 'Mr. Smith' or even 'George.' You signed it 'Damon Arquette.' That's your name. That's why you let Alvin call you 'Mr. D.'
"That night of the party, I saw you kill that man, the one who took me into the club and beat me. You killed him, just like Daddy killed Petunia. I saw him write the suicide note when you were pretending to help him. I watched you get the needle from its hiding place and hold it just like Daddy did. I saw you put the needle in his neck and watched him twitch, just like Petunia did before Daddy slit her throat. I heard you telling him how he was going to die. I saw the look in your eyes as you watched his terror. It excited you.
"Finally that night, I heard your call to Marcy. It wasn't until later I found out she was Harold's lover. It was then, though that I realized you were planning something big that had to do with me. Alvin had told you I would be out for two weeks. You told Marcy there would be a two-week delay in your plans.
"Then later, you sent me home so I would be there when Harold came home. He thought I wouldn't read all those forms, but I know all about insurance policies. And insurance scams. Your plan was coming together. Harold, big dope that he was, was your race horse. And the race horse always died.
"I understood the genius of your plan when I saw my paycheck two days ago. It was drawn on the club's account in an off shore bank. The same bank you had arranged for Harold and me to have a joint account. The account where the money was to be deposited in the event of a payout. Did you ever find out that I changed the deposit instructions? Only 10% of the payout would go into that account.
"I wonder, too, what happened to Harold. He called me from the club. He was drunk. I thought you were playing a game, teasing him. He had hurt me and I wanted to hurt him, too. I wanted to please you more, so I went along with your game. It was exciting. Until I saw the bottle with the needle had been moved.
"You were so good with accidents. Like Lewis' suicide. I hope Harold's death will be an accident. Did you know I changed the insurance payout on that, too? Accidental deaths pay double. Ten million dollars. Tax free.
"I would have been a very rich widow. I would have given it all to you, willingly, gladly. But you, you had to take it from me, like my marriage. You had to have it your way.
"I know about pets. I know about your pets. Pets are put down when they're used up, when you're through with them. Like Petunia was. After Daddy butchered her, he put her ear tag up on the wall of the butcher shop. Just like you put the belly button rings on your wall downstairs. I didn't understand it at first. The rings weren't broken. They had been cut off. All the pets, the old pets you didn't want anymore, they were taken downstairs and butchered. When you were through with them, you ground them up and washed them away.
"You were through with me. I knew. You already had your eye on the next one, a challenge. I smelled her in your room. She put her scent on you after she watched us in the office, the night I gave you my last virginity. She wanted me to know. I found her perfume and used it tonight.
"I saw that the syringe was missing tonight when I looked for the silk cord. That's when I knew for certain.
"I would have given you everything, Master, even my life. All I ever wanted was a Master, to be allowed to call you 'Master.' I would have given it to you freely, but you wanted to take it...
"I couldn't let you take my life from me. Not that. It's all I have left now."
Alex stood slowly. She had begun crying as she talked and her tears were running down her cheeks to fall to her chest, then dripping from her nipples onto the floor. She turned to the cabinet where he kept his razor. The one like Daddy used. Using a towel she picked it up.
Folding his unresisting fingers around the handle of the sharp instrument, she turned his hand to the other and drew the blade cleanly down along the inside of his forearm, careful not to cut crosswise, across his wrists. If the tendons in his wrists were cut, it wouldn't look like a suicide. You can't hold a razor with fingers that have had their tendons cut.
The sharp blade sliced deep, cutting through throbbing artery buried there. She carefully folded the razor into the bleeding hand and repeated the careful, but deep cut down the other forearm. She let the limp hand and the razor drop into the warm water.
The water turned pink, then crimson, then deep red as the life flowed from her Master. She sat with him, cradling his bristly head in her arms, humming a wordless tune. She sat with him until the lights went out of his eyes.
She would have been surprised by his last cogent thought.
"Who the Hell is Petunia?"