Bending Steele

Chapter Thirteen

He watched the sleek limo's taillights fade into the night. Fishing in his pocket, he brought out a pack of Marlboros and thumped it upside down impatiently on the palm of his hand. Hard, pounding whacks echoed down the alley he'd been hiding in. Tearing the plastic off and that annoying fucking bit of tinfoil; he tossed them on the ground to mingle with the rest of the debris. His gold pinky ring flashed and twinkled briefly underneath the streetlamp's glow.

Digging his zippo out of his pants pocket, he cupped the end of his smoke with his hand to deflect the wind and rain. The zippo flared to life, illuminating his little hideaway for a few seconds. The smell of butane and smoke a welcomed relief to the rancid smell of trash and piss, he thought as he took a deep pull into his lungs. Closing the zippo with a metallic click, he put it back into his pocket.

Kicking his head back, he blew a steady stream of smoke into the air and watched it dissipate into nothing. Nothing. That's exactly what he had left. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing. He took another hard hit and tried to blow it out his nose. Wincing and cussing in pain, when he realized he couldn't.

Fucking cunt. Fucking stupid ass worthless piece of shit woman. He glared down the street while he leaned against the building. No sense in hiding now, she was gone. Along with his plans for payback. Saved and safely tucked away in that motherfuckers Steele's fancy fucking limo.

He'd been sitting across the street for hours, waiting. Waiting until he saw that stupid bitch come out. He followed her for blocks, sticking to the shadows...waiting for his moment. He was about to make his move, when she spooked and dove head first into oncoming traffic. For a few minutes he thought and prayed she was dead.

But no, Steele had to come in and save the motherfucking day! He took a puff and blew it out angrily. If he had a gun, he would have shot them all, starting with the blonde bimbo.

He would have saved Trixie for last, though. Make her pay for her treachery...oh fuck...how he was going to make her pay. He'd thought of nothing else while he sat in the fucking rain. He fantasized all the ways he was going to make her suffer before he finished her off. All the ways he was going to make her scream. He adjusted his cock in his pants. His mouth twisted into a sardonic sneer, making him groan. That club owner fucker would get his too; he'd make sure of it, along with anyone else who stood in his way. Pity it couldn't have been tonight...

No matter. Thanks to Steele, he had all the time in the fucking world. He took the last drag off his cigarette and flicked it harshly onto the pavement, crushing it with the heel of his shoe.

He would get his revenge.

*    *    *    *

"Have you decided?" he demanded, his voice impatient.

Abby speared him with an annoyed look. "Since you won't let me out of this car, I guess I really don't have any other choice, but to go along with your plans," she huffed.

"Good." He nodded as he moved to lean over her.

"What are you doing?" She cried in surprise, dropping the ice-pack and scooting her ass back until she was almost sitting on top of the hand rest.

He didn't answer, but started to rummage around in his jacket he had laid over her when he deposited her in the car. Abby squirmed and wiggled to try and avoid his probing hands.

"Relax," he snapped, holding up the cell phone he'd dug out of the pockets. "I need to make a phone call." He grabbed the towel she'd dropped and gently pressed it back onto her forehead. "Keep that on there," he gruffly told her and she placed her trembling hand on it to hold it in place. His dark gaze drifted over her face before he quickly turned away and began scrolling through his phone.