Jade handed the bags to me with a smile. She had a killer smile–not the smile of a killer, but a smile that makes you kill for her. And I had. I did a lot for that woman. A lot of men did a lot of killing for her. She just had that kind of smile.
The two duffel bags she handed me were the same size. One was light, and one was heavy. My arms struggled to maintain an evenness. Now I know how the scales of justice feel. I guessed the heavy one had the cash. The light one was the surprise. The gift. The thing I was really doing this for. And I had no idea what it was.
I muttered a thank you. My tongue felt like a water balloon pumping larger and larger in my mouth. She gave that effect–the kind that turned grown men into tongue-tied preteens. So I didn’t say much just then.
She grazed my shoulder with her fingers and brushed her lips across the stubble of my left cheek. Into my ear she whispered, “You earned it.”
Maybe she was a witch, or a sorceress. I didn’t believe in that kind of thing, but she could have convinced me of anything. She already had.
“I love you,” I said. But she had already walked away, her inky hair sashaying just over her swaying hips. Those hypnotic movements. Every inch of her, a hypnotic movement.
Her suited bodyguard opened the limo door for her. She revealed a generous amount of leg when she slid inside–for my benefit, I had no doubt. Then the door was shut, and I could barely see the elegant arch of her jaw in the smoky glass of the limo door.
Then she was gone. My tongue deflated.
“You didn’t need to give me a thing,” I said to the empty street. “A two-minute meeting is worth any man’s life. These bags, the money, the gift–it’s all sand in a desert, handed to me by an oasis. You’re worth everything, Jade. I just want to be worthy. Not of money, or presents. Of you.”
Feeling silly for talking to nobody, I shook my head and rest the bags on the street. Zipped them open. The light one first, of course.
I don’t know what I expected, but not this. A silver-handled revolver. Did she expect me to take another life? Hadn’t I taken enough?
I sighed and opened the other duffel bag. There was another bag inside it–a black garbage bag. That’s when I got a very bad feeling.
Carefully, I untied it. I didn’t even need to look inside–the smell was enough. How did she find the bag? I hid it so well. I–
Sirens. Blue and red flashes painting the street. Me with a gun in one hand and a body bag in another.
Never trust a dame in green.
Today’s random prompt categories were, “Two duffel bags; one light, one heavy,” “One-sided love,” and, “An acceptance speech.”
I don’t know why I went ultra-noir on this piece. But I did. No regrets.