C. Nymphitus

New York truly never slept, even when wind and rain hit like bullets across her windshield, people were everywhere. Lightning hit through the skyscrapers and the wipers could barely keep up before it all went silent. She parked it in a multi-level garage and hoofed it into another apartment building. After hiking the stairs, she buttoned up her tight trench coat, flipped the hood and quietly walked to her destination.

Knock. Knock.

It was late, but the deadbolt popped. It slowly creaked and the older man rolled out of the way of the door. He knew right away and offered for her to come in.

"I hate to barge in like this."

The door closed and she yanked the coat open. He licked his lips at the sight of her. Nothing but a torn up Metallica t-shirt and a flannel skirt. Oh. And a nine millimeter wedged into her waist. She shook her damp hair out and sighed. "Got a towel? I'm getting water everywhere."

"Nah." His voice was weak and tired. "It's water. To hell with it, you know."

She kicked off her shoes and headed towards the window. Rain blew between the buildings but she could see Johnson on the floor.

"What did they do to you, hun?"

"You saw that, huh? Tried to kill me."

"Gonna try and kill them back?"

"I think so."

He sighed. "I guess I'm supposed to tell you not to."

"You saw what happened," she said, focused on her side of the alley. "Was the only way out of it."

"I saw worse in Poland."

"Yeah, I'm sure they got it from their war daddies."

"How'd you get out of that pickle?"

"Wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"I can try."

She told him. All of it. Allies were in short supply.

"As absurd as it sounds, you escaped an evil most wouldn't," he said, gently scratching his chin.

"Doesn't seem to be affecting you?"

"Maybe it doesn't like old men."

"May--well, that was quick."

Reeves was awake and utterly confused. He slapped around his partner to see if he was dead. Johnson finally snapped out of it. Both scumbags started to trash her apartment once they realized she wasn't there. Things flew and glass shattered. Then, it was over.

"Thanks for the hideout," she said, gently shaking his hand.

"Thanks for the years of entertainment."

She blushed. That never happens. "Maybe a few more years, if I make it."

"That makes two of us."

"I'll be in touch. I hope."

****

At the corner of the building, Johnson and Reeves popped into her view. Their car was nowhere to be found and she carefully made her way back to the Camaro.

Ducked down into the seat, the two appeared out of the rain. They appeared to be walking a little slow after what she did to them. Sure enough, they had parked near her.

After they had gone, she crawled out slowly with her lights off until it was clear. The rain continued to be relentless, with minor flooding down her avenue. She was able to find them at a stop light just before they headed towards Willy B. Their precinct was behind them. Where were they going? Hopefully, to hell.

She didn't want to be in loisaida, but followed them off the bridge anyway. They pulled off into an old meat packing plant and she stayed a couple blocks back. Graffiti, homeless people, barrel fires and bums walking beside the car had her checking the stolen gun for an ammo count. It was back in her skirt in a flash.

Nothing felt right. Too much was happening in the area and they had already disappeared into the plant. The two of them exploring the underworld would have to be on another night. She flipped a u-turn and headed back to the storage garage.

****

Drenched and done with the long night, Rebecca sauntered down her hallway, Mr. Jones waiting in the distance. What did this asshole want?

"If you can't tone down your loud bullshit, I'm calling the police. It's always something with you."

Her gun was covered and right now, she wanted to; just once. She sighed and smiled, strolling by.

"Ask your wife about all the commotion in the evening when you're at work." She slammed her broken door and shook her head.

Straight to the shattered pot, she knelt down to carefully scoop it up. She found an appropriate bowl and fed it some water. It didn't seem to be damaged, with a slow trickle from the top. She felt a bit torn up on the way home, scared it had been destroyed.

"They're not coming back tonight and I need to sleep." The voice was faint, tired and weak.

"Going to help me, baby?" A tear fell from her cheek, the adrenaline depleted from her system. Reality sat in and the gun was placed onto the counter top. "What the fuck is happening?" she whispered.

****

The rundown Starlight motel was a perfect place for information exchange. The apartment was no longer viable. It was if and when for Johnson and Reeves; at this point, possibly others. The crooked bastards ran deep, she was sure of that.

Her boss was quick with hiring the new intern. She was quick with seducing him in secret to avoid another Jason incident. His features were irrelevant and she only needed his cooperation; something that took all of five minutes. The right scent and the right clothing, mixed with the right amount of sultry lip work had him on his back that night.

Rebecca sunk her nails into his chest, barely avoiding ten puncture wounds. Over the side of the mattress, his head dangled from the brute force pleasure of her body bottoming out on his orchestrated enlargement. His breathy grunts and shaky grip on her hips told her all she needed to know and slammed down onto his thighs even harder.

"Gonna cum, baby? Sounds like it to me."

The chaos of the bed squeaking and thumping into the wall, the air spewing from his mouth everytime she dropped her body weight to the hilt and the blaring television left her voice barely audible. She sprawled out, heavy tits against his chest and grabbed at his hair, hauling him up for a kiss.

"All that information you got for me,"--she bit on his lip--"where you going to put it, cutie?"

"Oh my god," he groaned.

Probably his first time hearing such an offer with how fast she was dumped over onto her back. She pushed up to the headboard with a demented charge from him and his wildly swinging trunk dripping all over her thighs. He sandwiched it into the sweaty cleavage, bouncing his taut plums into her belly with wicked claps. She arched, shaking the hair from her face the moment he cried out and erupted.

Instantly, she flinched her head back, catching a finger wide rope from chin to scalp that smacked the wood behind her. He fucked it hard, watching intently as she started to become unrecognizable in just a few moments. Once caked to the point of his hot lava finding its way down her neck and running behind her ears into her hair, he let go and smacked her basted lips a few times.

Rebecca laid quiet, the blanket of warmth tingling head to chest. She didn't dare open her eyes and heard him fall over.

****

"What's the plan for this bitch? Stevens needs gone--like yesterday gone."

Dick puffed a cigar and clinched the blonde's hair underneath the poker table. His nuts stayed smashed into her chin, the gurgling dampened by loud music.

Johnson tossed a few chips and chugged a bottle of beer. "I got plans for that one. Don't worry. She's not going to kick your fucking ass again."

Reeves shook his head with a laugh. "How the hell did she do that to you?"

There was a pause and Dick calmly palmed the table. "You're missing some god damn teeth and you--you little shit--are walking funny."

"Oh, fuck off."

Reeves dumped his blonde off of his lap and snagged one standing next him.

"You bitches aren't very enthusiastic about the amount of green coming your way," Johnson said to the four of them. "Do better." The phone rang. "What?"

It was incoherent but they were clearly scared.

"Hold up--shut that shit off."

Reeves swirled the volume down on the boombox. Johnson's demeanor flipped like a light switch. The voice had changed.

"How's your face?"

"We were just talking about you."

"I like to leave a lasting impression. Let me talk to Richard."

"And why would I let you do that?"

"How much does his nephew know?"

Johnson's eyes shifted to Dick's ugly, fat face.

"Where is he, Stevens?"

"Are we asking rhetorical questions now?"

"You're not a murdering slut, you're just a dumb one. Where's he at?"

"Say hello," she said faintly.

A man could be heard hollering into what he assumed to be duct tape. Dick looked on in suspense along with Reeves but Johnson kept to himself.

"You haven't answered my question."

"Let the women leave unharmed. I'll call back in five minutes." Click.

As much as he wanted to smash the rotary phone into a million pieces, he let it go calmly.

"Wanna explain to me how Stevens knows your nephew?"

"Is he alive?" Dick scratched at his cheek.

"For now."

"Position at the bank needed to be filled."

Johnson smiled and drummed his fingers. "You hired--mmhm--you know what he does for us, yes?" Tension flooded the room like a hurricane making landfall. Johnson reached into his jacket and pointed the Smith and Wesson revolver at Dick's quivering mug. "You put him in the same building with Rebecca--fucking--Stevens!"

Dick flinched at the outburst. "I didn't know that would happen!"

"You're working for her!" Reeves blurted out.

"What! That's not true, you dumb fuck."

"It's been awfully fishy around here," Johnson said, pulling the hammer back. He nodded up to all four blondes who didn't utter a peep the entire time. "Get the fuck out of here."

Dick cleanly whipped out two pistols, both nine millimeters, before his cigar hit the cold concrete.

"I work for no bitch."

Reeves had a Browning pointed at the man's belly from underneath the table. "Cool your jets. This is what she wants."

"So this fuckin' pipsqueak can splatter my skull? Fuck outta here. You should have fuckin' dusted that skank but you fucked it up. NYPD, my fat mother fuckin' ass. You're two clowns bested by a five six bitch who files mortgages."

A muzzle flashed before them all. Blood blew out of Dick's left shoulder before all sound turned to a high pitched drone. The immense pain was evident in his face before Johnson and Reeves both took bullets one after another. Dick jolted from the destruction to his insides, falling from his chair. In the chaos, the phone continued to ring, but Johnson and Reeves slumped over. Deep red filled the money and circled the chips. The air started to clear and the phone stopped. It became eerily silent, all breathing and thick gurgling tapering off into nothingness.

Rebecca put it down and her neighbor gently tapped her hand that sat upon his shoulder.

"You think that worked?" she asked with a squeeze.

He returned the gesture. "Nobody's answering. Check the newspapers soon."

"I'll call to see how you're doing tomorrow."

She pulled a small vial from her jacket and placed it in his palm.

"Remember, one tiny drop."

"I remember."

"Enjoy. See you."

****

Rebecca sat her potted companion onto her new desk and shoved away a bunch of Dick's lousy decor. It wasn't surprising that his nephew disappeared and now her first order of business was to bring on another intern; preferably one she could keep her hands off of. Considering recent events, she would be hitting the bar for her next fix; work was now off-limits.

She picked up the phone and pressed for her secretary. "Hi, Tera. Would you be so kind and bring me coffee?" She flipped up the newspaper with the headline about the investigation into two dead officers that was still ongoing.

"Oh yes, Miss Stevens, will do. I absolutely have to chat with you about that fragrance you're wearing."

"I'm here all day, Tera. I don't like to be kept waiting."

"Yes, ma'am."

The phone clicked and she lined the wood with her stilettos, legs crossed. She checked her new golden Datejust and glanced at the dribbling plant. Tera was a magnificent redhead. This would be interesting. Not even five minutes ago did she declare her employees off-limits and...

Here we go, again.