I left my bike and headed to the back door. I’d almost expected him to have a dog to harass me but he didn’t. His yard was a fucking mess of overgrown grass and rubbish that had just been dumped out the back. Filthy, junkie pig.
The back door was unlocked which I’d been counting on. The number of idiots who left their back doors unlocked never failed to amaze me. I entered and the smell of pot hit me instantly. I fucking hoped he wasn’t entertaining; I really didn’t want to have to deal with more than him today.
I’d entered through the laundry room, which then took me to a hallway and I followed that along until I came to the living room. Bruno sat on the couch staring at the television, sucking hard on his joint like he couldn’t get what he needed from it. He was so engrossed in the joint and the television he didn’t hear me approach.
I walked behind the couch and smacked him on the back of his head. He jumped a fucking mile and almost propelled himself into the television before turning around to glare at me.
“What the fuck, Kick?” he demanded, still clinging to that fucking joint as if it were worth a lot to him. I guessed it probably was. This dickhead had nothing in his life but drugs, debt and a whole lot of regret.
I advanced on him and he must have read the look on my face clearly because worry crossed his and he began backing up to get away from me. “You think you can escape this?” I asked as I kept walking towards him.
“Escape what?” he said on a beg. If there was one thing Bruno was good at, it was convincing himself his problems weren’t as bad as they were.
I moved into his personal space, glaring down at him. “Escape the world of hurt you’re about to be in.”
Terror filled his eyes. “No! I’ve got the money!”
“Really? You expect me to believe that, Bruno? You never have the fuckin’ money.”
His head bobbed up and down rapidly as he nodded at me. “I have it! It’s in my house...I’ll go and get it for you.”
He attempted to move, and I raised my hand to grip his shoulder and halt him. “Not so fast, motherfucker. You don’t move unless I say you can move. We got that?”
He gulped and sweat beaded on his forehead. As he moved his arm to wipe the sweat away, he agreed, “Yes.”
I let go of his shoulder and asked, “Where is this money? What room?”
“My bedroom.”
I pulled my gun out and aimed it at his forehead. His eyes widened and I took in the accelerated rise and fall of his chest. “You lead the way, but the minute you don’t do as I say, I’ll shoot. And it won’t be to kill to start with. We clear?”
He tripped over his words to get them out fast. “Yes, I get it, Kick, but there’s no need to - ”
I pressed my gun hard against his forehead. “There’s always a need, Bruno. With dickheads like you, anyway. Now shut the fuck up and start fuckin’ walking.”
He did as I said, and I followed closely behind as he led me to his bedroom. The house was a fucking mess with crap strewn all over the floors. His bedroom was no different. As he began rummaging through his drawers, the only sounds that could be heard in the house were the ticking of his bedside clock and his breaths that were coming hard and fast now.
I moved to stand behind him and pressed the gun into his back. “I hope to fuck you’re not looking for a gun,” I said, not really expecting him to be that smart, but you just never fucking knew.
He shook his head. “No, the money is in here somewhere. I’ve just got to find which socks I hid it in.”
“You hid your money in your fuckin’ socks?”
He turned his head to glare at me. “Well, where the hell else would I hide it, smartass?”
“What the fuck did you just say to me?” I bellowed. Assholes like him annoyed the absolute fuck out of me. First, he was too stupid to keep his shit straight, then he had the balls to think he could get out of dealing with the consequences, and to top it off, he wanted to call me fucking names? Fuck that shit.
The look of recognition that crossed his face was priceless. That moment when your target realises just how much shit they’re actually in never failed to pump excitement through my veins. “Shit, sorry, dude. I didn’t mean it.”
I raised my gun and shot at the roof. What I really wanted to do was shoot him, but I needed to get that money first so the roof was the next best thing to hurry him along. Pointing the gun back at him, I roared, “Hurry the fuck up. I don’t have all day.”
Sweat had started to take over his face and his shirt stuck to the sweat on his body. He began rummaging faster until, eventually, he located the cash. Dragging it out of his sock faster than a virgin ejaculated, he shoved it at me. “Take it!”
“Calm the fuck down,” I suggested as I took the wads of twenties and tens from him. “And let’s move this to your kitchen table so I can count it.” He owed us six grand and I wanted to make sure it was all here before I took care of him.
Once he’d given it all to me, he began walking to the kitchen. I indicated for him to sit at the table and then I sat opposite him and started counting. He surprised the hell out of me by managing to keep his mouth shut while I did this. Bruno usually babbled shit the whole time when I came to collect cash.
I counted slowly. The bastard had come out in me today and I enjoyed feeling his fear while he waited for me to finish.