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Chapter 35

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GRAHAM STEVENSON WASN’T sure what he was addicted to the most, but when you added all of his vices together, it equaled trouble.  They had been filming in New Orleans, Louisiana for about six weeks and in that time, he became indebted to some dangerous people.

He looked at the bottle of scotch and cocaine he had received earlier today.  Of course, it came with a stern warning; if he wanted to keep his pretty face, he would pay up by the end of the day. 

Graham drained his bank account the other day in hopes of a winning streak at the poker game.  Instead, he found himself even deeper in debt to these people.  The man that came to collect the debt said he understood and gave him until the end of the week.  When he came to Graham’s hotel room Friday night, he wasn’t as understanding when he discovered Graham still did not have the money.  Graham worried that he would do something to his face or body which would leave him with a lot of explaining to do to the director the next morning.  After listening to Graham’s pleading, the man concurred that it was in no one’s best interest if Graham couldn’t act the next day.  So the man was “nice” enough to merely dislocate his arm.  Graham had never felt such an intense pain in all of his life.  After explaining that a stunt had gone wrong, the emergency room doctor had set it.  It still hurt and was a constant reminder that he owed a large amount of money.  When he walked into his trailer during a break and saw the scotch and cocaine, he thought his luck had changed until he saw the note attached; payment would be collected tonight or else.

He picked up the scotch and poured himself a tumbler full.  Not bothering with the ice, he downed the drink in one swallow.  The fiery drink sent a warmth throughout his body.  He eyed the cocaine and decided if this was his last night on this earth he may as well enjoy himself.  As he snorted the drug into one nostril, he looked at the other line longingly.  One hit did not satisfy the need he had.  He needed more.  As he was about to snort the other line, he heard someone knocking on the hotel room door.  Wiping his nose, he walked over and peered through the small hole to see who was there, unsure if he wanted to know.

He was taken aback by the gorgeous young girl.  Clearly she must have the wrong room.  He didn’t ask for companionship tonight.

He cracked open the door, “You must have the wrong room.  Sorry.”

She placed her small foot in the door opening, “I don’t think I do.  I was sent to collect some money you owe.”

Graham opened the door and peered around to see if this was a set up.  Not seeing anyone else, he quickly ushered her into his room.  He asked the young girl, “Exactly why did they send such a beautiful woman, instead of someone from the goon squad?”

She smiled slyly at him, “He is hoping I can convince you to pay up without someone damaging that pretty face of yours.”

Graham returned her smile.  If this was how the Mafia Prince collected his debts, maybe the man couldn’t be so bad.  He didn’t see how this woman could hurt him.  What she wore left little to the imagination, and he didn’t see where she could possibly carry a gun.  This woman standing before him was the perfect package.  Her velvety skin reminded him of a luscious dark honey.  “Honey, you are the best debt collector that I have ever seen, but I don’t have his money.”

She walked over to him and pushed him towards the bed, “Well then I will need to show you the importance of paying won’t I?”

He pulled her closer to him, “And just what do you have in mind?”

Her eyes seemed to see right through to his soul.  They were the most intriguing green.  There was clearly an infusion of Caucasian and Creole blood in her family.  “I was told that I can screw your brains out?  Will that be okay with you?”

He bet she would be a good lay.  Before the night was over, he planned to do all kinds of degrading things to this one.  There were quite a few things that he wanted to try and since she had come to his room willingly, he doubted she would go to the authorities. 

The lean muscles in her body rippled in perfect symmetry as she straddled him.  Her brown skin glistened in the soft light of the room.  His imagination began to stir at all the things she could do to him.  He couldn’t wait to see what it would be like to have this young thing ride him.  She was sure to be one hell of a wild ride.  From somewhere on that luscious little body of hers, she pulled out a small cat o nine tails whip.  He immediately became aroused.  It looked as if she may be into the same little games as him.  This night was looking up. 

She ordered him, “Lay back.  I’m going to tie you up.” 

He was quick to do as she said, anxious to play this little game.  He had been hoping to restrain her, but this was just as exciting.  After both of his arms had been restrained to the headboard, she took the whip and lashed at him rather forcibly.  He winced at the sharp pain.  She told him, “You know you borrowed money from the wrong people don’t you?”

His quick temper flared immediately.  This was not the game he had in mind.  He tried to break free from the restraints, but they were too tight.  “I told the other guy that I would have the money and I will.”

She leaned down and kissed him hard on the lips before whipping him again.  This time the whip struck him across the balls and the pain was instantly searing.  “You have a smart mouth don’t you.  You need to do a better job keeping it under control.”

He tried to control his anger, “Look, I swear that I will get his money to him as soon as I can.”  This night wasn’t going as he expected at all.  Now, he was unsure of exactly what this woman planned for him and with his arms restrained he could not fight her off. 

When he went to speak again, he couldn’t find his voice.  The cocaine must have been stronger than he thought.  The room swayed as nausea started deep inside of him.  He feared he would be sick all over himself if he didn’t get up.  He forced the words out, “Please, I don’t feel well.  I think I am going to be sick.  You need to release me so I can go to the bathroom.”

She just laughed down at him and stepped off the bed with ease.  As she walked away from the bed, the contents of his stomach expelled all over himself and the bed. 

A fiery pain gripped his stomach.  He tried to find a comfortable position on the bed as the bitch stood there and laughed at him.  The pain in his gut suddenly radiated to his crotch. 

The woman before him seemed to change before his eyes.  She stared down at him with a demonic evil in her eyes.  Even though his body was weak, he tried to free himself from the restraints once again. 

He asked, “What... What did you do to me?”

She gave him a maniacal laugh, “Mais, what did I do to you?  I haven’t touched you now have I?”

He tried to curl up in a fetal position, “Please, you have to help me.”

She looked into his eyes and could see the sheer terror there.  “The less you fight it, the less the pain will be.”

He could only take quick pants as the pain seared his body.  How did she do this to him?  Did someone poison the booze or maybe the drugs?  Was this how he would pay his debt back to The Mafia Prince, through death?  Was the woman here to make sure he died in agony?  He begged her one more time, “Please make the pain stop.”

He begged God to spare him.  He would change his ways; he promised.  He would be a better person and more generous with his money.  He would stop sinning as much if only he were given a chance to live. 

He gasped aloud as another jolt of pain hit him.  As the sheer agony took over his body, his world was sent into total blindness. 

Someone whispered in his ear, “You will find no peace.  You will be among the walking dead.” 

“Please, I don’t want to die.”  It was getting harder to breath.  The bitter taste of vomit remained thick in his mouth.

She watched what happened to his body as he stopped fighting.  His eyes fluttered before he finally welcomed the darkness. 

***

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THE MAID KNOCKED ON the door and waited for an answer.  Not hearing a response, she used her master key to enter the room.  After calling out and receiving no response, she stepped into the room. 

She was frozen in place at the sight in front of her.  She was horrified at what she saw and called out to him, “Mister, mister, are you okay?”

Not receiving any response, she walked over to see if he was alive.  She quickly made the sign of the cross and backed out of the hotel room.  She learned a long time ago not to scream when you found a body; it just brought everyone rushing into the room.  Instead, she locked the door and went to find the manager. 

***

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DETECTIVE MIKE BAILEY looked down at the body and wondered who this man crossed paths with last night.  The dead man’s eyes stared up at the ceiling, devoid of any life.  His skin had an ashen look about it.  The smell of death hung heavy in the air. 

Dried vomit clung to the man’s face as well as the bed and floor.  Looking at the cocaine on the nightstand and the bottle of scotch, this was more than likely an overdose  But he couldn’t make that call; it had to be done by the coroner. 

Detective Bailey instructed the crime scene techs, “Just in case the coroner comes back with a homicide ruling, take as many pictures of the crime scene as you can please.  Once we release the scene, housekeeping will come in here and remove any evidence that may be left behind.” 

The young officer responded, “Yes, sir, but you do know this place is a cesspool for fingerprints and the like.”

“Yeah, I know, but try to do the best you can.”  Detective Bailey hoped that it was ruled an overdose so he could close this file.