markwildyr.com,
Post #91
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Diego’s
pulled it off three times in a row. Can he make it four? Or will someone termed
“the leader” prove too smart for him. Let’s find out.
*****
HEADHUNTER
THE LEADER
The
next morning, Diego took out the piece of paper Stocky had provided him. The
final name on the list was Richard Robins. Ritchie… the Leader. This one
stumped him for a while. The guy worked in a law office downtown, and according
to Stocky, spent his time at the country club except when he went slumming with
his blue-collar buddies. Lately, that hadn’t been happening. Diego’s gang rape
had splintered the group.
As he
struggled for a way to handle the final member of the gang without exciting
suspicion, Diego finally decided he would simply go downtown and confront the
man.
Friday afternoon,
armed with a description of Leader’s car from Stocky, Diego prowled the
downtown parking structure beneath Ritchie’s office until he discovered the
vehicle. Around five-thirty, Leader appeared in a spiffy blue suit and tie,
carrying a briefcase. As the too-pretty man unlocked the door of his Mercedes,
Headhunter pushed off from the post he’d been leaning against and walked toward
the vehicle. Some sixth sense must have warned Leader, because he whirled… and
immediately took off running.
Astounded,
Diego resisted the urge to follow. Instead, he stopped to consider the
possibilities. Someone had tipped Leader off. Was the guy going for the
authorities? Not likely. He had to know the cohesiveness of the gang was
broken. Somebody would talk, and he’d be exposed as a rapist. The guy worked in
a law office, so he couldn’t afford for that kind of crap to come out.
Making
his decision, Diego walked out of the parking structure and down the block. If
he was being watched, he wanted to be seen leaving. Once around the corner, he
re-entered the garage by another entrance and returned to the car. The keys still
hung from the door lock where Leader had left them in his panic. He crawled
into the back seat and lay down on the floorboard.
Within
five minutes the door opened, and Diego felt the weight of a body in the
driver’s seat. The briefcase struck his calf as Leader slung it into the back.
The motor caught, and the Mercedes raced out of the structure. Leader barely
brought the car to a halt before turning onto the street and pealing out. Diego
could feel the driver’s tension peak every time he halted for a traffic light.
“Damn!
Damn! Damn!” Leader muttered. “Gonna be all right. Relax, Robins, relax. The
Indian fucker’s spooked. Miles from here by now.”
Headhunter
mentally shook his head. The guy talked to himself! And said all the wrong
things.
Ritchie
really took off once he gained the Interstate. Risking life and limb to an
automobile accident, Headhunter sat up in the rear seat directly behind the
driver. It took Leader almost a full minute to spot him in the rearview mirror.
The German automobile skidded across two lanes of traffic before Ritchie
regained control.
“You!
What’re you doing in my car? I’ll have you arrested. They’ll throw away the
key. Get out! You hear me? Get out.”
Headhunter
glanced at the speedometer. “At seventy miles an hour? I don’t think so.”
“What…what
do you want?” Leader licked his upper lip nervously. His green eyes flicked
back and forth between the mirror and the roadway.
“You
know what I want or else you wouldn’t have run.”
Leader
wiped perspiration from his lip. “How’d you find out? Who ratted on us? Chuck?”
Headhunter
pursed his lips. “No one ratted on you. No one needed to, you asshole. I
reached down inside and replayed the whole night like a video tape. I saw every
one of you bastards, and what you did to me.”
“You
couldn’t. Nobody remembers things after they take that stuff. Not as much as I
gave you.”
“Maybe
nobody else does, but I did. I remember you especially. Yeah, I remember it
all.”
“I’m
sorry, man. It was wrong. We shouldn’t have done it. Look, I’ll make it right.
I’ll write you a check. Whatever you want.”
“What
I want is to pay you back, not have you pay me.”
“Think
about it, Diego. You don’t want to do this. You take my check, and it’ll be
over. You can spend my money on things that will last a long time.” He laughed
nervously. “You know, give up instant gratification for prolonged
satisfaction.”
“If
you knew as much about my tribe as you claim to, you’d know we savor vengeance
for a long, long time. In another time and another place, I’d have taken your
head. Now I’m just going to take your ass.”
“Please,
man. Don’t do this.”
“Any
way we do it, it’s not going to be easy for you. But I can make it a lot harder
than it has to be. It’s up to you.”
“You…you’ll
just do it to me, and then it’s over?”
“I’ll
do exactly what you did to me, and then it’s over. Who tipped you off? John?
The Pipsqueak?”
Leader
nodded absently, too wrapped up in his own predicament to be concerned over
possible consequences to his friend. “Yeah, John.”
“Then
you’ve been expecting me. That makes it better. You’ve been worrying about me
for weeks. Good.”
“What…
what do you want me to do?”
“That
was too easy. But appropriate. Let me tell you what happens if you try
anything. Ask Chuck about the poison I have. A savage like me wouldn’t even
think twice about administering a dose. Not when my manhood’s been attacked.”
“All
right, you’ve made your point. What do you want me to do?” Sweat dripped off
the end of the man’s nose. Headhunter chuckled. Leader better get himself
another career. He probably wasn’t a very good lawyer.
“Drive
to a motel and rent a room.”
Headhunter
watched through the window as Leader paid for the room and picked up a key. He
saw the man hesitate at the house phone but step outside without using it. He
walked around to the back and unlocked a door. Headhunter was at his shoulder
when he entered. Leader eyed the bed nervously.
“Look,
man, won’t you reconsider? I know I did wrong, but isn’t there another way to
make it right?”
“You
act like you’ve never given a blowjob before, Ritchie.”
“I
haven’t. Never!”
“Never
been fucked?”
“No!
For God’s sake, that’s the truth. I swear.”
“First
time for everything. Besides, if you didn’t want to do it, why are you here in
this room with me? I haven’t laid a hand on you.”
Leader
swallowed hard. “I’m… I’m afraid of you.”
Headhunter
nodded. “Wise man. Now get undressed.”
Headhunter
watched as he complied. Over the next thirty minutes, Headhunter was almost as
miserable as his victim. The man had a good body—in a rich-boy, country club sort
of way, but was so androgynous looking, he failed to excite Diego. Nonetheless,
after a prolonged effort, Leader managed to do what Diego wanted. It was a
disappointing ejaculation, but at least the bill had been paid.
Angry
with himself and at these bozos who’d led him into this, Headhunter fell over
onto his back and ordered Leader to clean him up. As he watched the blond wash
him, he was repulsed by the man’s precise movements. He brushed him aside and
got up to dress.
“Is it
over?” he asked. “Or are you going to try some legal shit?”
Leader
mumbled something.
“What?”
“It’s
over. But…but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about it.”
“You
think I want anyone to know I fucked your candy ass?”
“I
guess not. Thanks.”
Thanks,
the man said. Hell! What kind of vengeance was that?
*****
Not so
tough… or smart, for that matter, was he? How did he assume leadership of that bunch.
Probably because the others were awed by a law degree. But as he found out, Diego
believed in curanderas and spells and Jaguar, not sheepskins.
So is
that the end? I wouldn't do that to you. We’ve got one more episode to go.
Amazon permits you to read a short passage of my novels, Cut Hand and Johnny Two-Guns. I also believe the STARbooks-published River Otter, Echoes of the Flute, and Medicine Hair are still up. I sure would
like to get the final book in the Cut Hand Series, Wastelakapi… Beloved, published, but it’ll take some help from
readers to get Dreamspinner interested.
My contact
information is provided below in case anyone wants to drop me a line:
Website and blog: markwildyr.com
Email: markwildyr@aol.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/mark.wildyr
Twitter: @markwildyr
The
following are buy links for CUT HAND:
And now my mantra: Keep
on reading. Keep on writing. You have something to say, so say it!
Until next time.
Mark
New posts at 6:00 a.m. on each Thursday for
the life of this serial; thereafter, the first and third Thursdays of the month.
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