Chaos: Don't Stress, Undress

From what @morelikeasong, @AngelicaS1780, @Wand3rlust and maybe @AuntieDisco (I missed your post) posted it seems to be black and white bottom day.

I most definitely am inspired by their greatness. 😘

From what @morelikeasong, @AngelicaS1780, @Wand3rlust and maybe @AuntieDisco (I missed your post) posted it seems to be black and white bottom day.

I most definitely am inspired by their greatness. 😘
View attachment 2356417
Very sexy! Love it
 
The thug was an idiot. He shoved the gun at my face, way to close. I could practically grab it from him. "Shut up!" he yelled, and spit ran down his chin. Too easily rattled. "I'm going to blow your fucking face off!"

"With the safety on?" I asked, with as much sarcasm as I could load into a sentence. And I could load a lot.

He looked confused as he actually pulled the gun sideways to look at it. As he moved, I reached out to grab along the barrel and keep it moving towards him. His wrist was already bent when he looked at it, so it was almost easy to lock his hand. He was whimpering in frustration when my left hand looped up in a fast, short hook to the side of his neck, once, twice, thrice. He went down like a sack of crabs, and I reached down to relieve him of his handgun. As I stood, I heard a gentle cough, like someone clearing their throat.

Slowly, keeping the gun lowered, I turned around.

Standing there was a big galute. Tall, dressed in pinstriped pants held up by leather braces over a sleeveless undershirt tucked in at his slim waist. Prodigious amounts of both hair and hard muscle filled out his arms and shoulders. His hair was short, his smile gentle, his eyes professional, and his pistol, a big .45, not in any danger of being grabbed.

"I'd like to apologize for my associate," he said, and the level of derision on that last word was astounding. "He was an idiot to threaten you. He was an idiot to get too close. He was an idiot. But please — don't shoot him. I would have to escalate the issue, and we don't need that, either you or me." He moved the pistol slightly. "Don't mind this. It is just to give a bit of weight to the conversation and to insure no one gets...hasty."

I nodded, and took my finger away from the trigger. Moving very slowly, I held the pistol up, the barrel pointed at the ceiling, then released the cylinder to let the rounds fall to the floor. Then I set the gun on the table. "Not hasty at all," I said. "I hate these things."

He nodded, his smile firm on his handsome face, then safetied his gun and slid it into a leather holster on his belt. "See, I heard you were smart."

I had heard the same of him, though we had never come to cross purposes. In a town of with a well of cheap thugs, he was top shelf. "So where are we in this conversation?"

He smiled, but it never reached his eyes. He had pro's eyes, gunslinger's eyes. "As the idiot said, our employer would like to speak to you. He was too keyed up to get to the pitch. Not that you helped with that," he said, laughter in his voice. "My employer would like to speak to you. Just talk. I have your day rate in an envelope in my pocket, for maybe a half hour of your time. And we both know, if it was going to get messy, you already would be messy, right?"

I had to give him that. I was too focused on the idiot, which may have been his purpose. "Fair enough," I agreed. "You want to help me with that?" I pointed to the thug on the floor.

He shook his head as he handed me an envelope. "I'm not paid to collect garbage," he said. "There is a car out front. Three of my compatriots will take you to my employer. They work with me, and they are not idiots. They will also bring you back here after the conclusion of your discussion."

I nodded again. See, I could control my mouth when it suited me. Sometimes. "Okay, see you around," I said as I walked past.

"No," he said quietly. "Not if I am looking for you, you won't..."


-"The Maltese Cock," Undressed City of Chaos: A Case File of Unquiet Dreams
 
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