It had taken me almost twenty minutes of staring across the street at the bar before I finally willed myself to go inside. When I’d headed out to this side of town, I was so fucking pissed at Cassie that I couldn’t get there fast enough. Now that I was there, though, just like the previous two times I’d come, I was having second thoughts. I guess that was only natural. Who wouldn’t have second thoughts about doing what I was thinking?
As all the wrong that she’d done to me entered my mind once again, the anger that washed over me helped me to gather my courage and finally cross the street.
“What the fuck have I gotten myself into?” I asked myself as I entered the shady-looking bar. The place was filled with so many derelicts I’m sure I stuck out like a sore thumb in my suit. I took a seat and stared up at the dusty liquor bottles behind the bar.
“Can I get you something?” the bartender asked. His huge body seemed to take up half the area behind the bar as he wiped down the spot in front of me while he waited to take my order.
“Let me get a Coke.”
“A Coke? Is that it?” He smirked like he wanted to laugh. “You a cop? ’Cause nobody comes here just for a Coke.”
“Nah, I’m not a cop, but I am looking for someone,” I answered.
“Well, I’m the owner of this joint, so if the person you’re looking for is here, has been here, or is expected here, I’m the one who can tell you.” He flung the towel over his shoulder. “What’s this person’s name?”
“Uh, I don’t know.” I felt like an idiot. I couldn’t even answer his first question. I sat there with a blank look on my face.
“A’ight then, what does he look like?” he asked, still cheerful.
Now, that I could answer. “He’s kinda big, real big.” I held my arms out to the side to indicate the guy’s girth. “And he’s not the most attractive man I’ve ever met.”
“You trying to be funny? Sounds like you describing me,” he said with a straight face.
“No, no, this guy’s white. Dusty blond hair. A lot more rugged-looking than you.”
“A lot of guys fit that description,” the bartender said. “Look around.”
He was right. The place was full of big, homely guys.
“Let’s try this.” The bartender leaned in, placing one elbow on the bar. “What exactly are you looking for this guy for?” He raised his eyebrows suggestively.
Oh, God, I thought. Does this guy really think I’m in here looking to buy sex from some big white dude?
The chime hanging on the front door rang out, and a man entered the bar. It just happened to be the person I was looking for. “There he is.”
“See that. I told you I’d help you find him,” the bartender joked as he walked away.
I waited a few minutes before I headed over to the table where my former jail companion sat down.
“Buy you a drink?” I slid into the seat across from him.
He did a double take. “Well, I’ll be damned.” He chuckled. “I really didn’t expect to see you again.”
“Look, I’m going to make this short.” I didn’t want to be there any longer than I needed to be. “Can you really do what you said?”
He shrugged. “Depends.”
“On what?” I asked.
“What exactly did I say? Sometimes I have memory loss, and I would prefer you made things very clear.” He sat back in his seat and stared at me.
This was a test, and to be honest, I didn’t know if I could pass it. “I want you to… I want you to…” I looked around to see if anyone was listening. They weren’t, but even if someone was eavesdropping, the patrons in this place struck me as the type of people who weren’t easily shocked. I finally spit it out in a low whisper. “I want you to kill my wife.”
“Well, that was straight and to the point,” he replied, sitting up in his seat with a shit-eating grin. “But I still need to know one very important thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Do you want it to look like an accident, or will a simple mugging gone wrong suffice?” He chuckled again, like we were having a jovial little conversation. “Taking out the target is never a problem. I can do that with my eyes closed, but making it look like an accident requires considerably more skill and money. It also usually means more suffering, but some people like that.” He was fucking laughing again.
My heart was racing and sweat beads broke out on my forehead. This was fucking surreal. It was bad enough that I was hiring someone to kill my wife, but the thought that I had to decide how much she would suffer was too much, and I almost lost my lunch.
“You okay?” He handed me a napkin. “You sure you have the stomach for this?”
I wiped the sweat from my face. “Yes, I’m all right. So how much will this set me back?” I couldn’t believe I was talking about this like I was purchasing a stereo system for my car. Had Cassie really made me this cold? Yeah, I guess she had.
“Again, that depends,” he said. “One costs five thousand, and the other costs ten.”
I leaned back in my chair and considered it for a minute. In that short time, I felt my heart rate slow and my sweating stopped. Just like that, I was becoming comfortable with the idea of being a person who snuffs out a life.
“Okay Mr.… What do I call you?”
“Just call me Mr. Bigg.”
I nodded. “Okay, Mr. Bigg. I’ll take the five grand option. I’m not spending any more money on that bitch than I have to.”