The Harlot and the Hitman

The Harlot and the Hitman

August 23, 2012 Writing 17
Click image for source

I strolled into the kitchen, and who did I find?! That harlot brazenly sitting at the table!

“I thought I told you never to come here.” The words rolled off my tongue before I could stop them. She rolled her heavily lined green eyes skyward, and a soft sigh escaped from between her sultry crimson colored lips. She stood, and boy, what a vision she was! Tall, with 3-inch high heels that did her legs justice adding to her height, her long scarlet colored hair landing on her ample bosom, those big green eyes that lured me in, her dress hugging every curve perfectly, she had the body of a cover girl and the face of a saint. The fact that she was married to the mob’s biggest hit man only added to her appeal.

I still don’t know what she saw in me. Compared to the thugs that surrounded her, I was an out of shape reporter-turned-private-detective still waiting for that big break. But here she sat, at my table, a vision of pure sexiness, and here I stood, just awakened, a full days growth on my chin, morning breath fouling the air, my excitement barely hidden in my bathrobe. Heat crept over my face. She smiled, apparently amused at my embarrassment.  She took long strides across the room pressing her body against mine as she leaned in for a kiss.

“Daaaaaah-ling,” she purred as her plump lips moved from mine to nibble on my ear, “you told me if I was ever in danger…” I pushed her back abruptly. She was always in danger with the company she kept. I had to know if she was sincere. One look into her eyes and I saw fear lurking behind the emerald. It was so incredibly sexy, I couldn’t help myself. We moved to the bedroom to continue the conversation.

Our bodies soaked with sweat and one eye on the clock, I decided to get to the heart of the matter. I had to know the what, who, and why she was in danger. I let my fingers bring goose bumps to her silky flesh as I pondered how to get the information I needed from her. I decided the direct route was the best route.

“Why are you in danger, Toots?”

She rolled over, running her fingers through my hair, and slipping her legs between mine before she spoke. “I’m always in danger. You know that.”

Just as I expected, she never told the truth, always giving cryptic replies that got my P.I. senses tingling. Her eyes didn’t lie, though, and the fear was still etched within the green.

“This time is different. Tell me why.” She stuck her bottom lip out, an enticing ploy to make me change the subject. I resisted. I cupped her chin in my hand. “Go on, Toots. Tell me.”

Suddenly, our casual encounter became serious as she dipped her face into my chest and her body began heaving with quiet sobs.

“He knows.”

And it hit me like a freight train carrying a load of steel rods to a construction site. He knows. Crap. Her mafia hit man knew about us. I was a marked man and the price on my head was undoubtedly high. I would be looking over my shoulder for the rest of his life, which I hoped, and not for the first time, would be short. Damn the harlot! The worst thing she could have done is exactly what she did, not that I minded the results. It was the consequences that would haunt me. I had to formulate a plan, and I couldn’t do that with her lying beside me. She had to go, but how could I do it? I couldn’t kill her. I loved her too much.

There was another issue with her leaving. Her days were marked too, even if he didn’t kill her. He would drop her and set her out to hook, reducing her to nothing but a two-bit whore chasing nickels and dimes the rest of her life. No, I couldn’t let that happen. We were in this together.

I disentangled from her and rolled away, sitting on the edge of the bed. She ran her fingers down my back and I pushed them away. “Good god, girl. Let a man think!” came out more harshly than I intended and she rolled out of the bed and was out the door, barely dressed, before I could stop her. I grabbed my robe and chased after her, only to hear two pops too late to save her. Two thugs burst from the side of the house, strong-arming me into the backseat of a black Bolt V8 Fordor with a pistol pressed into my back. Up to the very moment they blindfolded me, my eyes never left the sight of her golden body crumpled on the ground, a pool of blood beneath her.

It was a vision I would take to the grave with me.


For the Scriptic prompt exchange this week, Jake gave me this prompt: I strolled into the kitchen, and who did I find?! That harlot brazenly sitting at the table!.

I gave Barb Black this prompt: Use the first line of your favorite song to start or end your story (or both). Please share the name of the song and artist at the beginning or the end of your post.

This week’s words from Three Word Wednesday were: amuse, excite, and sincere. You can find all 3 words in some form in the story above.

I’m always looking to improve my writing and welcome your thoughts. Won’t you please share feedback in a comment?

Thanks for stopping in and reading!!


17 Responses

  1. Sean J says:

    Love the gritty Noir feel, very enjoyable read. A little disappointed she was erased so quickly, and now I want to know what happens to the P.I. You’ve got a quick hook there!

    • SAM says:

      Oh thanks!! I guess the PI’s ending isn’t as apparent as I thought it was? Hmm. Maybe I should add another sentence or two to the end to clarify.

      • Sean J says:

        Oh, I don’t know about clarity, lol. So often the hero (and yes, he became the hero from my perspective in that short time) is in such a pickle only to wriggle out short time later. The scene played out like a movie in my head & I kinda jumped to conclusions. He was “done for?” Even better! I like it when every once in a while the good guy gets it!

  2. Sheilagh Lee says:

    I love this.

  3. Carrie says:

    Ooh, not a good ending…but then, he should have known this was coming.

  4. k~ says:

    I love the Noir feeling in this story. The detective is intriguing and the dame, well she’s dead now, so it doesn’t matter (or is she? grinZ). Fantastic fun. I would love to see this one grow!

  5. Woah! All his planning came to nothing, and it was entirely too late for anything but a final encounter. I loved the noir fun!

  6. Tara R. says:

    Yes, very noir, with a Mickey Spillane feel to it.

    • SAM says:

      ohh, thanks, and its funny but I didn’t even know what noir was until just now. I just had this image in my head and this guy’s voice. I literally heard the story in his voice as I read through it each time. It was quite fun!

  7. May says:

    Love the classic feel of this. Has a bigger than life quality that makes it bold.

It's YOUR write side, too! Let's hear it!

Scroll Up