Can I do this job and hold on to Phoenix?
I gazed at the spot.
Piece of Cake was a popular donut shop with three other locations in Paradise City. I’d only visited the one in the North and another in the West. Johnny owned all four of them.
This northern shop was shaped into a massive slice of cake that towered thirty feet in the air. Yellow icing covered it. In the West, the icing was red.
Meanwhile, both locations had a cream-colored interior with pink and yellow signs presenting the donuts, cookies, and cakes for the season.
I had to admit, Johnny was a creative baker, especially when it came to donuts.
In the fall, the shop offered a pumpkin cake doughnut with a butter bourbon filling. For winter, he served eggnog donuts sprinkled in cinnamon and powdered sugar. In Spring, Caviar Limes popped up on almost all the trees in the city. Therefore, Johnny always had several caviar lime donuts on the menu.
Johnny was playful during the summer, providing several types of specialty donuts that always had me reliving my childhood. There were donuts topped with cereals like Lucky Charms and Fruit Loops. He even had a cotton candy doughnut topped with sweet blue fluffy candy. However, my favorite summer treat was his S’mores Special—a donut stacked with thick bits of chocolate, marshmallow, and graham cracker dust.
The odd part was that I didn’t meet Johnny due to donuts.
We’d met under moonlight and blood.
One night, I was hunting a pedophile named Dr. Seymore Nicos. He’d been a pediatrician for poverty stricken families. During a regular check-up, the doctor would have unsuspecting parents leave the room while he did a special examination on their little kids. His victims ran between two and four—too young to truly understand what was going on.
One single mother walked in on him. A public trial came next. Every news station and paper covered it. The doctor hired the best criminal lawyer money could buy. The parents had an overworked district attorney. A bunch of idiots filled the jury box.
His lawyers argued that the kids were not old enough to understand what they were saying. He contended that their memories and young words could not be trusted. They’d also pointed to the fact that the parents were poor and probably suing solely for money. Some of the fathers had criminal records. The news ate it up, broadcasting the family’s crimes more than the doctor’s.
The jury believed the doctor’s lawyer.
I didn’t.
The doctor beat the case.
Yet, he hadn’t won my trial.
Dr. Nicos walked out of the courtroom with a smile. Cameras flashed. He gave a small interview outside, giving the glory to God. Protestors screamed over him. Many tried to rush his way. The cops blocked them, arresting several.
And I stood out there watching.
Dr. Nicos celebrated at a top restaurant with his lawyer and colleagues. They laughed and stuffed their faces with caviar, oysters, and slabs of steak. After finishing the expensive meal and downing several drinks, he headed home.
I grabbed him before he could put his key into the lock.
The neighbor’s dog saved him. The creature barked. The neighbor rushed to the front porch. I let him go.
Probably too tipsy, Dr. Nicos raced off in the wrong direction.
I chased.
Delirious and scared, he ran for several blocks, stumbling a few times and mumbling about the devil.
I stayed in the shadows and kept a steady pace. It wasn’t that I couldn’t catch Dr. Nicos. I just needed to make sure that there wasn’t any witnesses.
Then, he ran down the alley.
I followed, took my knife out, and caught him by the dumpster. Right when he began to scream for help, I stabbed him in the throat. Blood sprayed. My only regret was that I hadn’t been able to drag out his torture in my soul coffin. Still, I took my small satisfaction in the alley, cutting and slicing, savoring the blood and death.
When I finished, Dr. Nicos blood-battered body fell to the ground. His face was unrecognizable. His arms and ears lay next to his feet.
It was in that moment, when Johnny Cupcakes stepped out of the darkness with a lit cigarette that was almost done.
I froze in terror. Blood dripped from my knife and gloved hands. While I was fine with taking Dr. Nicos life, I didn’t want to murder innocent people. Even if it meant keeping me out of jail.
I thought back to our first conversation.
Johnny blew out smoke. “Is that guy the sick kiddy doctor from the papers?”
Stunned, I nodded, unable to speak.
“Then, thank you for your service.” Johnny Cupcakes saluted me with his free hand. “I’ve got kids. Had it been mine, there would have been no trial.”
I widened my eyes.
“Piece of shit.” He spat on his torn body. “I tried to talk to the top guys about it. They didn’t want to do shit. It was all money, diamonds, and guns.”