Double Dippin': Misty Part 21

"I'm open-minded. Whatever you want to get into is all right with me."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"Well, I've been thinking about getting into a threesome."

David propped himself up with an elbow. "A threesome with who? You, me, and your ex?" he asked, clearly appalled.

"Would that be so bad? You already tasted his c.u.m, didn't you?" Misty said with teasing laughter.

"d.a.m.n, you don't have to make fun of me. I did that to make you feel better; now you're throwing it in my face," David said with a hurt expression.

"Aw, I'm only messing with you. The threesome I'm referring to would be with you, me, and another chick."

David brightened up. "Oh, yeah? Who's the chick-one of your friends?"

"No, I want to get into a threesome with you, me, and your wife."

CHAPTER 32.

It was Friday evening, and Anya knew exactly where to find Natalie. She'd be gorging on free food and cheap drinks during happy hour at Skippy's.

Anya had been waiting in her car for over an hour when Natalie finally emerged from the club dressed in clothes from Anya's closet. Heading toward the bus stop, Natalie weaved drunkenly, the heels of her fake Louboutins clicking on the pavement.

Umph, b.i.t.c.h still can't afford to buy a decent pair of shoes.

"Hey, Natalie," Anya yelled out the window of her Audi.

Natalie was either pretending or was actually too intoxicated to recognize Anya's car. "Who's that?" she inquired in a slurred voice, leaning to the side and squinting as if trying to make out Anya's face.

"Girl, come on and get in the car. I'll give you a ride home."

Natalie hobbled a little closer. "That's okay, I'm good," Natalie said in a nervous voice.

"Natalie, stop acting crazy. You don't think I hold you responsible for what Majid did to Sergio, do you?"

Natalie looked down guiltily. "I don't know what to think," she mumbled.

"Girl, I consider you a friend, and you can't help what your man did."

"That's true."

"I'm so devastated over what happened to Sergio; I need to talk to someone. You want to have a drink with me?" Anya held up a silver flask. "Drinking alone is depressing."

"You got any weed?" Natalie asked.

"No, but I can buy some. Who do you buy your weed from?"

"My weed man's name is Tone. All I have to do is give him a call and he'll meet us outside the Seven-Eleven near my house."

"Okay, give him a call."

"How much you spending? About forty dollars?"

"No, I need more than that to forget my troubles."

"You want to get a quarter pound?" Natalie asked, her eyes gleaming with hope.

"I can do that. A quarter pound ain't about nothing. I could buy a couple pounds of weed if I wanted to, but I don't really smoke that much." Anya didn't typically boast about her finances, but under the circ.u.mstances, it was to her benefit to flaunt her bank account.

"You're definitely not a weed head like me, so would it be okay if you let me have whatever we don't smoke up tonight?" Natalie asked, wearing a greedy smile and seeming to instantly sober up.

"Yeah, you can have whatever's left. I want to get nice, so I can forget my troubles."

Lured by the prospect of free weed and liquor, Natalie zipped around to the pa.s.senger's side of the car and got in.

Anya pulled into traffic, speeding in the direction of the highway that would take her to Natalie's neighborhood. Instead of taking the on ramp, Anya swerved suddenly and brought the car to a stop on the desolate underpa.s.s of the highway, an area off the side of the road where her car was obscured by trees.

"Why're we parking here?" Natalie asked.

"I want to count my cash-on-hand before we place the order. I don't want to be pulling out big bills in front of a drug dealer. I'm not trying to get robbed, you know what I mean?" From her wallet that was bulging with cash, Anya extracted six-hundred dollars and then stuck the money in her bosom.

Natalie licked her lips visibly when she saw the large amount of cash Anya was carrying in her wallet. Her eyes darted around thoughtfully, as if trying to come up with a plan for her and the weed man to stick-up Anya and split the dough.

"Are you straight? You got enough paper to pay for the weed?" Natalie injected concern in her voice as her eyes roved back and forth from Anya's money-stuffed bosom and down to her bulging wallet.

"Yeah, I have more than enough to pay for the weed."

"Okay, I'm about to call Tone and put in our order," Natalie said. She rifled around in her handbag and retrieved her phone. Before she could enter a number, Anya leaned over and pressed a Taser gun into her forearm and held it there, enjoying the zapping sound intermingled with Natalie's shrieks.

Anya removed the Taser and watched with interest as Natalie slowly recovered. Groaning and frantically rubbing her arm, Natalie was wide-eyed as she stared at the welt that quickly appeared on her arm. "Son of a b.i.t.c.h," Natalie exploded. "Look at my d.a.m.n arm! What the f.u.c.k did you do that for? My s.h.i.t is burning; feels like it's on fire!"

"b.i.t.c.h, I'm just getting started." Anya tased her again, this time aiming the weapon at her chest. Natalie's legs kicked out, and her arms went limp as her body convulsed. "I'm gonna have a lot of fun torturing your snitch a.s.s."

Natalie gasped and wailed. "What are you talking about? I ain't snitch on n.o.body."

"Stop lying, ho. You used the information you got from me to set up Sergio. Trying to win points with Majid, you backstabbed my man and got him killed. I barely escaped with my life, but you don't give a d.a.m.n. You wanted me dead, too."

"That's a lie! I would never do anything to hurt you, Anya. And I didn't set up Sergio; it wasn't me. I swear to G.o.d. I didn't say a word to Majid about Sergio deciding to go legit."

Anya looked at Natalie with undisguised hatred. "You told on yourself, you dumb b.i.t.c.h." She zapped Natalie again and again, causing her to flail about and gurgle as if choking to death.

"Stop, Anya. Please! I can't take any more of this torture," Natalie wailed when Anya stopped tasing her.

"You thought I was a soft b.i.t.c.h, didn't you? You mistook my kindness for weakness, but you had no idea who you were f.u.c.king with. You shouldn't have crossed me, Natalie," Anya said with contempt. "Anyone who f.u.c.ks with me or my people ends up getting hurt real bad. So, don't waste your breath begging for me to stop because I'm not gonna stop until I send you back to your maker."

"Are you planning to electrocute me to death with that thing?" Natalie yelled in horror.

"I sure am." Anya grinned maliciously.

Natalie recoiled as Anya aimed the Taser once again. This time, she pointed it at Natalie's abdominal area. Natalie screamed, but with the rush of traffic overhead, her screams went unheard.

"d.a.m.n, do you have super powers or something?" Anya asked with cruel laughter. "I thought you would have pa.s.sed out by now. Maybe I should jolt you with a higher voltage." Anya pulled a larger Taser from beneath her seat. One look at the black Taser gun and tears began to stream from Natalie's eyes.

"Please. Please. Please, I don't want to die," she cried. "I'm sorry. I didn't know Majid would take Sergio out; I only told him about the situation so he could get a piece of the action, too. I didn't know he'd kill his own friend, I swear."

"Nice speech, Natalie. But your words went in one ear and out the other. You're shady as h.e.l.l, so be woman enough to own up to what you did."

"Okay, all right." Natalie raised a hand in surrender. "What I did was grimy, I admit it, but my hand to G.o.d, I wasn't trying to get Sergio killed."

"What did you think that evil-a.s.s Majid would do if he thought Sergio was trying to move on to greener pastures without him? Huh? And what's really f.u.c.ked up is the fact that Sergio was going to bring Majid on board after all the paperwork was signed. You didn't have all the facts when you ran back to Majid. Your worthless, whoring a.s.s caused a good man to get killed over some bogus bulls.h.i.t that you're too stupid to begin to understand."

"You're right. I got in over my head, and all I can say is I'm sorry." Natalie managed to squeeze out some tears. "I'm really sorry, Anya." Hoping for sympathy, Natalie went overboard and began to weep into her hands.

Anya didn't respond; she only stared at Natalie with loathing. Sensing that her crying act wasn't working, Natalie removed her hands from her face, and said, "Please let me get out of the car; I'll walk home and I won't say a word about this to anyone." She touched the door handle and quickly discovered that Anya had used the panel on the driver's side to keep her locked inside.

"You're not getting out of this car until I'm finished with you," Anya said scornfully.

"I can't take any more," Natalie whined.

"You have to pay for your crime against Sergio and Paloma."

"I didn't do s.h.i.t to anybody named Paloma. I don't even know anybody by that name."

"Paloma was Sergio's housekeeper. Your man popped her for no reason, also. And now, I'm gonna snap, crackle, and pop you until your insides start frying."

Anya raised the Taser and Natalie began moaning, "Stop! No! Please! Oh, G.o.d help me from this psycho b.i.t.c.h."

Like a crazed person, she began screaming at the top of her lungs. She jiggled the door handle frantically and repeatedly kicked the door, as if she were trying to kick her way out of the car.

With amus.e.m.e.nt, Anya watched Natalie have a meltdown. When Natalie finally wore herself out and began panting for breath while her chest heaved up and down, Anya retrieved the silver flask from the cup holder. "Have a drink and calm yourself down. But I need you to be honest and tell me exactly what you told Majid. Think about it and maybe a taste of liquor will help refresh your memory."

Anya reclined her chair as she offered Natalie the flask.

"Thank you. Oh, G.o.d, thank you so much," Natalie said, uncapping the flask and turning the lip of the bottle up to her mouth. Suddenly, the flask dropped from her hand and she let out a piercing scream that died down rapidly as the flesh on her lips and tongue ballooned to a grotesque size, and then popped, the deep red flesh appearing to melt.

Anya leapt to the pa.s.senger's side, scooped the flask from the floor, and then straddled Natalie. "Drink this s.h.i.t," she spat as she struggled to force-feed Natalie the remainder of the Liquid Fire drain cleaner that was inside the flask.

Natalie's melted lips secured the flask in place and Anya didn't remove it until it was empty. Anya didn't feel a bit of sympathy for Natalie; all she felt was a cold rage as she watched her writhing and moaning, her terrified eyes bulging as her insides burned from the drain cleaner she'd been forced to ingest.

"Don't let me die. Take me to a hospital," Natalie said, her pleading words barely coherent.

"b.i.t.c.h, you're gonna die and I'm gonna sit here and enjoy watching it happen."

"Pleeeeeease," Natalie said in a long, terrible groan.

Anya shook her head. "f.u.c.k you, you dirty ho! Now, you know how betrayed Sergio felt when a gun was held to his head by a man he considered a friend. You know how betrayed I felt when I watched his brains splatter against the walls because a dirty s.l.u.t I treated with compa.s.sion and generosity repaid my kindness by setting up both me and my man. You knew I'd be at Sergio's on the night of his birthday, but you didn't care. You wanted me to die along with him, but I survived and now I'm your worst nightmare," Anya hissed.

Natalie moaned louder, and Anya turned on the radio to drown out the horrible, screechy, animal-like whimpers that rose from Natalie's chemically burned throat. Fighting for her life, Natalie continued to jiggle the door handle, trying to no avail to escape from the car and save herself from the slow and agonizing death that was absolutely inescapable.

After forty-two minutes of moaning and twitching, Natalie became silent and then slumped into death, leaning heavily against the pa.s.senger's door. At that point, Anya unlocked the door, opened it, and shoved Natalie's lifeless body out the car, discarding it with repugnance as if getting rid of putrid, week-old trash.

The only attendees at Sergio's private funeral service were the staff of the funeral home, the pastor who was paid to say a few words for Sergio's soul, Anya, Uncle Fabian, and the prison guards who had accompanied him to his nephew's funeral.

At the burial site, Anya cried quietly, but Uncle Fabian wept openly and unashamedly. Trying to give him a modic.u.m of comfort, Anya told him that she'd taken care of the woman who set up Sergio. "I made sure she suffered. Her death was slow and painful," she said venomously.

He let out a long, weary sigh and wiped his tearful eyes. "I knew that behind that pretty face and innocent demeanor, you had a heart of ice when it came to seeking justice for your loved ones." Uncle Fabian narrowed his eyes and said, "I could put hands on that n.i.g.g.a, Majid, while he's locked up in county, but I'd rather wait until after the trial when that sc.u.mbag and the coward that helped him snuff out my nephew's life get sent upstate to my house." He smiled maliciously and rubbed his cuffed hands together. "I have special plans for those two traitors. By the time I finish with them, they're gonna beg for a bullet between their eyes."

CHAPTER 33.

Jeffrey Backus had changed visibly since Misty had last seen him. The former smug look on his face had been replaced with a humble expression. In his eyes was the glint of new-found respect for Misty, and rightly so. She'd had the gall to invite the billionaire to Philadelphia, booked in the same hotel where she resided, but she'd kept him in his suite for the past five days, making it clear that his vast wealth didn't faze her in the least. She didn't pay him a visit until it was convenient for her.

A powerful man like Backus didn't wait for anyone, yet he waited for Misty, desperate for the service that only she could provide.

This time, Misty visited Backus alone; she felt comfortable and self-a.s.sured enough to conduct their business without the benefit of a bodyguard and without Gavin's brooding presence. She'd repaid Gavin all the money he'd spent on her surgeries, yet he still sulked and complained as if he expected Misty to feel indebted to him for the rest of her life. She was sick and tired of hearing about his missing gay lover, and if he pestered her one more time about finding the man, she was liable to slit his throat. She was so over Gavin. Being around Gavin was a ch.o.r.e, and she was relieved that she didn't need him to tag along with her tonight.

In fact, now that she'd gotten her foot in the door, she was pretty sure she could handle her operation from now on without needing Gavin to introduce her to elite clients.

Brick was still upset with her, but she was sure he'd get over it by the time she called him for the next job. Brick wasn't foolish enough to turn down the kind of money Misty was paying.

After Backus eagerly paid her the two-million-dollar fee she'd requested to heal his left hand, and after Misty carefully stacked the cash in two, extra-large duffle bags, she motioned for him to hold out his hand.

Filled with the antic.i.p.ation of soon becoming whole and healed, Backus stuck out a gnarled hand that trembled with excitement. Misty placed her own had upon it and felt bones straightening and skin smoothing out beneath her palm.

When the sensations subsided, she removed her hand and smiled in satisfaction at her achievement. "It looks good as new," she quipped.

Backus gazed steadily at his repaired hand. Overcome with emotion, he embraced her. Shedding tears, he thanked her profusely, informing her that he considered her a treasured friend for life. "If ever you need a favor, please don't hesitate to ask," he said.

"I'll remember that," Misty said as she squirmed out of his bear hug and grabbed the handles of the heavy money bags. "I do have a small request, if you don't mind."