Curse's Claim

“You’re going to have to make him stop.” Jerry’s voice penetrated his mind. “The bastard is dead.”

“Curse, stop now!” The final voice belonged to Devil. Curse’s fist was raised ready to land another punch.

Turning to his left he saw Devil, Jerry, Pussy, and a couple of his brothers standing, watching him.

Glancing down before him, he felt nothing about the mess he’d created from his attack. Dale was unrecognizable. Blood soaked the cream blankets, and he climbed off, aware of the wetness coating his clothes. His hands were bruised, covered with a layer of blood.

“He attacked a woman,” Curse said, staring at his crew. They were not looking at him with disgust. Each person was figuring out what they had to do to help him.

“It doesn’t matter, Curse. This guy was going to be dead in a matter of days,” Jerry said. “There’s a target out for his head. The wife and kid were long gone. They’ve been gone for a long time.”

“A target on his head?”

“Yeah, he raped a friend of mine’s girl. When I say friend, I mean proper mafia, don’t f**k off and do as you’re told kind of friend. I was supposed to keep him alive until Frederick was due to arrive next week. This f**ker was working for Frederick when he attacked one of his men’s women.” Jerry stared at the mess and pulled out his cell phone. “This is why I only ever offer small f**king favors. Frederick doesn’t give a f**k about anyone, but taking vengeance was an act of business, not sympathy.”

The other man disappeared, and Curse heard him talking in hushed tones.

“I’m sorry, Devil,”

“No, you’re not. If this f**ker was attacking Lexie, I’d have done the same.” Devil whistled as he looked at the body. “This reminds me why we rarely stay in the same f**king place. This kind of shit is a nightmare.”

“We burn the body? House fire, bad mains and all that shit?” Ripper asked, stepping around Death.

“No, the cops have already reported there are too many suspicious fires just lately,” Jerry said. “Fredrick has a guy arriving tomorrow. One of us has to stay with the body, and his guy will do whatever’s necessary to make this f**ker disappear without a problem.”

“A mass clean up?” Devil asked.

“We get to see the professionals do the job.” Jerry agreed, staring at the body then at Curse. “You’re going to have to stay behind. This guy is a professional, and he’ll get everything off you. I suggest you take a shower and try to keep the shit contained to this room. I’ll also need to talk with you, Devil. Frederick’s pissed, and he wants to know what you’re prepared to do about it.”

“I don’t give a f**k what he wants,” Devil said.

“This is not the kind of man you f**k with.” Jerry didn’t look happy. In fact, the pimp looked positively scared shitless.

Curse shook his head. “What about Mia? She’s covered in evidence.”

“She stays at my place. Melanie is still gone, and she’s not coming back any time soon. I’ll keep an eye on her, and I promise I won’t f**k with her or suggest she become a call girl,” Jerry said.

“I’m going to need to talk to her,” Curse said.

Staying away from her after this was going to be a f**king nightmare.

“You’ve got to think about this, Curse,” Devil said, speaking up.

“What do you mean?” He turned to look at his president. The respect he had for Devil would never disappear, but he also knew that Devil would do whatever needed to be done.

“If she’s your old lady we don’t have a problem.” He waited for Devil to finish. “If she’s not then we’ve got a problem, Curse. She has to go, and I don’t mean on a long vacation. I mean she has to go six feet under the f**king ground.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “She doesn’t need to do that shit.”

“Your call to make,” Devil said.

He stood staring at the mess on the bed and wondered what the f**k had happened in the last couple of hours. Hearing Mia’s pleas for help had awoken the protector inside him. Curse didn’t regret what he’d done. She wasn’t the problem. This mess he’d created was the problem.

“She’s my old lady. You leave her alone, and I’ll deal with her.”

“Are you sure about this, man?” Pussy asked. “An old lady is some serious shit.”

“I’m sure. She’s my old lady.”

Devil stood for several minutes and watched him before nodding. “Fine, she’s an old lady. I’ll make Lexie aware of it, and she’ll talk to Phoebe. They’ll be no keeping her away from everyone.”

“I know. Just give me time. Let me deal with this.” He pointed at the blood and the mess. “Then I’ll handle Mia.”

She would have no choice but to do as she was told.

“Okay. Death, you stay with him, and Pussy, get back to Ashley. Inform her of what is going on. Tell her to keep her crap to herself.”

Pussy agreed and left. One by one the men left, and Death sat outside the door where there was no blood.

“This f**king sucks,” Death said. “I was going to spend the next week f**king. Now, I’ve got to babysit your ass.”

“You were going to f**k not find an excuse to kill something?” Curse walked into the bathroom. He’d need to clean out the glass first or he could just stand under the shower jet.

“You’re not doing a bad job of killing people. I doubt that f**ker always looked like that.” Death nodded at the dead body.

“Whatever. I can’t be done with this shit. I f**ked up.”

“Yeah, you did f**k up. We’re putting a stamp on this town, and you’ve got a dead guy who’s wanted by a man we want f**k all to do with.”

Glaring at Death, Curse didn’t see the use in arguing with him and told him so. “What’s done is done. I can’t change anything or bring him back.”

“Is she worth it?” Death asked, shouting out the question. With his hand on the doorframe, Curse stopped to think about the question. Was Mia worth all this shit? When she smiled and let go for a few seconds, his heart literally stopped. She was so beautiful and had suffered in life.

“Yes, she’s worth it and a hell of a lot more.” He entered the bathroom and started to take a shower.

****

Mia cried as Ashley ran a bath in Jerry’s house. She’d not been here since he’d offered her a chance of becoming a call girl. Wiping her nose, she winced at the pain. Every inch of her body ached or hurt from what had happened.