Blood Red

It was just a pain in the ass when they weren’t where they said they would be. He went around to the back of the mansion, marveling still at the dark gray walls and the high gloss of the marble. He didn’t figure he could make the sort of money that would be needed for a house this fine without pimping every single bitch on both college campuses. Not that he wouldn’t be willing to, of course.

The back of the house overlooked the Cliff Walk, and he spotted Soulis over near the edge. The man was dressed in the sort of style that only worked for filthy rich people: He looked casual, but the clothes all had a fit that was too perfect. There was a chill in the air, but not much of one. Soulis was decked out in a suit and a greatcoat and gloves.

He stared out at the ocean as Tom approached. Before he was within ten feet of the man, Soulis waved to acknowledge his presence. “It’s a beautiful day here.”

Tom shrugged. It was a shitty day as far as he was concerned, but the customer is always right, unless, of course, he was wrong.

“I have a fondness for the ocean, Mr. Pardue. Forgive me my trifles.”

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Soulis?”

Soulis reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a thick envelope. “For tonight.”

Tom made the money disappear. He didn’t bother counting it. He had no doubt in his mind that Soulis would take offense, and something about him was intimidating. He didn’t like that feeling. He was used to being the one who intimidated just by being there. Soulis couldn’t have cared less if Tom were waving a gun in his face. That was the feeling he got from the man.

“Thank you.”

“Do you like Black Stone Bay, Mr. Pardue?”

“Yeah. It’s home.”

“Indeed. It’s starting to feel that way for me as well.”

“So, Maggie hasn’t given you any troubles?”

Soulis finally turned to look at him, one dark eyebrow raised in a question. “Should she?”

“No, no, I just like to make sure everything is going the right way. I wouldn’t want you dissatisfied.”

“She has proven to be everything I expected.”

“Good. That’s good.”

“You have excellent tastes in ladies.”

“Maggie’s something all right.” He would never think of her as a lady, but if Soulis wanted to, that was his choice.

Soulis stared down at the waters, his eyes watching the waves shatter themselves against the rocks.

“Do you suppose there is any way to survive the waters here in the bay?”

“Yeah. Don’t fall in.”

Soulis smiled thinly. “No doubt.”

“Was there anything else I could do for you, Mr. Soulis?”

“One more thing, actually. There is a policeman who’s caught my attention: Brian Freemont.”

The name meant nothing. “What about him?”

“I would like you to post his bail.”

“I thought you said he was a cop.”

“He is. He just isn’t a very good one.”

“What’s he in jail for?”

“He is currently incarcerated for pulling his firearm on two other police officers.”

“That’s gonna be an ugly bail to post.”

Soulis held out a much, much thicker envelope. “That should suffice.”

Tom managed not to whistle. Soulis would have thought it rude and classless. Around Soulis, Tom wanted to look like he was in the big leagues. He wasn’t, he just wanted to be.

“There anything else?”

“Yes. Let him sit a bit. I don’t want him getting out until sunset.”

He didn’t ask questions. He knew better. Jason Soulis probably wasn’t the sort of man who liked to have questions asked. The money went into his pants pocket.

“Mr. Pardue?”

“Yes sir?”

“Do I have to warn you about disappointing me?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Good. Have a nice day.”

Tom left, part of him offended by the casual dismissal and part of him happy to go. Soulis was a scary man and he didn’t even try to be that way. It was power; the man had power and in abundance. He doubted there was much of anything Soulis could want and not get. Someday he intended to be in the same position.

VII

Maggie met with Jason Soulis and spent the night again. He was as imaginative as ever, and she was thoroughly sated.

Unfortunately, he was not. She lay back as he moved over her, his mouth starting at her feet and moving slowly, languidly up her legs, preceded by his hands.

Her skin felt feverish. Her breaths came in gasps. His tongue lapped at her flesh, his teeth nipped at her skin, his nails drew lines of sweet fire across her nerve endings. Her hands clenched the sheets, pulling at the tough silk and stretching it out of shape.

“God, Jason . . .” She whined; there was a point where pleasure bordered on pain and she had reached it. He kept going, crawling up her body, his mouth on her inner thigh and then higher, his hands sliding across her stomach, her ribs, moving to her breasts.

He was merciless and she hissed in pleasure, moaned in agony. And still he kept going. His body slowly worked over the contours of hers, his hands and mouth traveled everywhere, sliding over her front and sides and back as he explored.