Knocked Up by the Killer

I pushed open the door to my building. My footsteps echoed off the marble. Herb looked up from his desk and stood. Surprise flitted across his face.

“Tanner,” he said. “How are you? I haven’t seen you in a bit.”

“Took a vacation,” I said, then gestured to Elise. “This is my main squeeze, Herb.”

“Miss.” Herb doffed an invisible cap to her.

Elise laughed. “Hello. Nice to meet you.”

“Herb’s the best doorman in the city,” I said. “Go to him if you ever need anything.”

“Almost anything,” Herb said. “I draw the line at bringing the bodies down.”

I laughed and tugged Elise to the elevator. She looked at me with wide eyes.

“Was he serious?” she whispered.

I shrugged, hit the call button, waited for the elevator. Elise looked back over her shoulder at good old Herb and her waved to her again, his eyes sparkling, a big smile on his face.

We rode the elevator up. I took her to my door, unlocked it, let her step inside.

She looked around at the clean, plain modern apartment. The sun rose over the nearby buildings as she stepped over toward the sliding glass doors.

“Okay,” she said, turning to me as I lingered in the kitchen. “This isn’t what I expected.”

“What did you expect?”

“I don’t know.” She gestured around. “Blood, guts, doll parts. Bones and skulls.”

“If you don’t like any of that, I wouldn’t go in the bedroom if I were you.”

She gave me a look and laughed. She sat down on the couch and bounced a little bit.

“So you live here,” she said.

“I do,” I said.

“And you’re friends with the doorman.”

“I am,” I said.

“And this is somehow all normal.”

“It is,” I said.

She sighed and stretched her legs. “Okay,” she said. “I’m going to just turn off the part of my brain that’s telling me to run away, since I’m technically in the home of a killer, and just accept all this.”

“You’ve been sleeping in the same place as a killer for weeks,” I said. “Nothing’s changed just because you’re on my couch.”

“True.” She looked down at herself. “You haven’t killed anyone in here, have you?”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course not. Come on.”

She got up. “Okay, okay, sorry. I’m going to finish the tour.”

I gestured toward the bathroom and the bedroom. “Go right ahead.”

She disappeared down the hall. I heard her opening doors and looking in my closet as I got a glass of water. I drank it down and she appeared back in the living room a second later.

“You have good taste,” she said. “I kind of hate to admit it, but your place is a lot nicer than mine.”

“I have money,” I said. “Easy to have good taste when you have money.”

“Not necessarily true. This place is all—” She paused. “Modern. Contemporary. You know, clean lines, very minimal.”

“I guess I’m drawn to that.”

“I like it.” She wandered over toward me and leaned against the counter. “So, you have me in your place. What are you going to do with me now?”

I stepped close to her and kissed her gently. She smiled up at me, eyes sparkling.

“That sounds like an invitation,” I said. “If you’d like me to take advantage of this situation, I’d be more than happy to. But I’ll warn you, once I start, I’m not going to stop until I get my fill.”

“Promise?”

I kissed her again, deeper and slow. I ran a hand up her hips, gripped her ass, then palmed her breast. I moved it up into her hair and—

My phone began to ring.

I hesitated. I wasn’t going to stop, but she pulled back.

“You should get it,” she said. “It could be important.”

“Whoever that is can fuck off,” I said.

“Tanner.”

I grunted and pulled myself away from her. I fished my phone from my pocket, walked a few feet away, and answered.

“What do you want?” I snapped.

She gave me a look.

“Tanner, uh, this is Mortimer Slade.”

I looked back at Elise then walked down the side hall toward my bedroom. “Mortimer,” I said. “How’d you get this number?”

I stepped inside and closed the door behind me with a soft click.

“Pulled some strings,” he said. “I know this isn’t exactly professional, but I thought you’d want to hear from me.”

I walked to the bedroom window and frowned out at the building across from mine. Mortimer was another hitman in the city. He was a low-tier guy, not much experience under his belt, but he was an up-and-comer. I figured he’d be pretty good in a few years, if he could get a few more contracts and stay alive and out of jail.

“All right,” I said. “I’m listening.”

“I got a call from the Leone family,” he said. “Didn’t think much of it at first. You know they’re always putting out jobs, right? Got kind of excited, since I haven’t gotten any from them yet. And they’re the big leagues.”