Read Gator Online

Authors: Bijou Hunter

Gator

Gator

A Bullet
Romance

by

Bijou Hunter

 

 

Copyright ©2014
Bijou Hunter

Kindle
Edition

 

Dedication

Mustang Sally for believing in
me

Freckles, Tigger, Pooh, &
Roo for owning my heart and treating it right

Candy Girl Miranda for always
having my back

Saucy Sarah and Hardcore Patty
for sharing their special insights

 

More Bijou
Hunter Books

Damaged and the Beast

Damaged and the Knight

Damaged and the Cobra

Damaged and the Outlaw

 

*****

This is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the
products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely
coincidental.

1 Spent Shell

 

Gator

 

 

The city
suffocates me. Too much grey. Too many people. The place smells of a graveyard
filled with those who don’t know they’re dead. I hate the city.

Money lures
me to this place and I need the extra cash. Paradise doesn’t come cheap.

Carz is a guy
I know from my first years as a killer. He’s a freak with a love of cars and
women. He thinks he’s funny too. Others laugh at his unfunny jokes, but I don’t
pretend. A man willing to kill over a misunderstanding doesn’t fake anything.

My face will
make a grown man piss himself. While my mother was a delicate Hawaiian flower,
her family is filled with large warrior men. The story goes my grandfather was
a Mexican wrestler vacationing on the islands. He enjoyed the weather, surf,
and my lei wearing grandmother. After he savored what Hawaii had to offer, he
left and never returned. I’m a warrior like my ancestors, big and imposing, and
I use my size to terrify my enemies.

This time
around, Carz gives me an easy job. A list of losers already dead and just
waiting for the bullet to make it official. The first two provide easy targets.
Only a man as fucked up as me could fuck up such a simple assignment.

Logic isn’t
something I ever gave any mind. I don’t care about laws or morals. My life and
needs are paramount. And I want her.

A day rarely
passes when I don’t work for or kill gutter trash. Paul Douthit is that kind of
garbage. A life wasted on booze, drugs, cheap women, and crime. He deserves a
bullet between the eyes, even if Carz hadn’t gotten spooked about someone
snitching him out. Paul is the first name on a list of five marked for death. When
I got the job, I never figured I’d have a problem with offing any of them.
They’re losers wasting air and dirtying everything they touch.

I want her
though and she’s on the list too.

Carz says she’s
Paul’s daughter. A whore. Trash like her old man. Kill them both and send proof
of death. I’ve done it plenty of times before. Men in my work called themselves
ghosts, cleaners, and assassins. I used to think I was a garbage man, but now I
view myself as an exterminator. I destroy vermin. As a boy, I hunted rats
around the swamp. As a man, I hunt parasites in the ugliest parts in the
ugliest cities.

This girl
isn’t a cockroach like her dad. I don’t know how I know. Something in her eyes
as she stares at traffic while Paul fumbles around for cigarettes intrigues me.
They stand in the open, unconcerned in a way that proves Carz is being
paranoid. No way does Paul plan to rat him out, but I’m getting paid for the
bullet, not to give Carz my opinions.

Blonde hair
dirty at the ends and oily at the roots, the girl looks trashy. She is wearing
a jeans skirt that is both too big and too tight. I can see her legs are pale
except for the bruises. I know how she makes money for her dad. I understand
the dullness in her expression comes from a lifetime of beatings, rapes, and
neglect. She doesn’t live outside her head. I knew this all from her blank
stare. Anyone else might have seen a waste of space like Paul, but I know
better.

As I watch her
through the scope of my rifle, I see a glimmer of life in her blue eyes. A
whiny kid yanking on his disinterested mother’s jacket waddles past her and she
awakens and smiles. She’s alive enough to save. I decide then I’m keeping her.

2 Spent Shells

 

Gator

 

 

They call me
Gator because of the accent I can’t lose even after so many years out of the swamp.
Killers need a handle like that. I don’t know who came up with the rule, but it
was around when I took my first job. People don’t want to hire Ken or Pete.
They want to hire Reaper or Ghost. I wasn’t those guys. I was just Gator.

I don’t kill
with finesse. I never saw the reason to be pretty about it. Nothing about me is
fancy. Killing can be about a soft touch or it might be a hard punch. A guy my
size doesn’t do soft well. The guy ends up dead either way and I get paid. Hard
punch is my preferred way.

Carz pays
well enough. Not top of the line pay, but his enemies are nobodies. Street scum
like this guy and his daughter.

Carz said the
girl’s name was Idget Gidget. She was a dummy, he claimed, but gave great head.
I hadn’t cared when he told me that in his ugly red office. Now seeing her, I
care. I didn’t like people talking shit about what is mine.

When I order
up a date with Gidget, I request her daddy come along. The fucker giggles at
the idea of watching.
Killing him will make me very happy.

Waiting in
the motel room, I’m restless. This girl is a stranger, but she’s mine now. A
gift to myself. I’ve wanted someone for a while that wasn’t a quick fuck. I wanted
something more and she is it. No real thinking about who she is and why I want
her. She’s just mine and that’s it.

As I wait in
the motel room, I know I’m not thinking straight. I’m primal. The predator seeing
his prey. Or the man catching sight of his woman.

At that
moment, I don’t care what she’s like. I don’t give a shit if she has a squeaky
voice or snores or thinks stupid shit is funny. I just want her eyes on me. I
want her to smile at me. I want her fingers on my skin. I want to taste her
lips and know how my cock feels inside her. Nothing hearts and flowers about
it. Nothing intelligent or rational. She’s mine and I’m taking her.

Paul knocks
at the door twice before I answer. I’m nervous, I guess. Afraid the girl will
disappoint. How can she? I expect her to be beautiful and she is. Based on
Carz’s description, I expect her to be dumb and agreeable. I figure the second
quality might lessen after I kill her pimp daddy.

“Hey, are you
Sam?” Paul asks, running his hand through dirty blond hair. “Is this the right
room?

Giving him a
nod, I open the door wider. Paul smirks at me and I want to kill him slowly. I
don’t like how my woman was forced to look at that shitty face all her life.

Paul
hesitates a little before entering. At six four, I loom over his scrawny build.
He’s also a redneck and anyone a shade over pale freaks him out. In his
ignorant eyes, I must look like a fucking monster. A wild beast from some
faraway country he can’t spell, let alone find on a map. Yeah, he’s scared of
me, but he wants my money more.

Paul grunts
for Gidget to enter the room and she wanders after him. Wander is the right
word. Like a kid with no clue where she is or what’s happening, she stands like
a lump next to him.

“Whatcha want
to do first?” Paul asks.

“She have a
name?” I mutter, taking in how blue her eyes are behind the clumpy mascara.

“Gidget.”

When her
father says her name, she looks at him like a dog might respond to a familiar
word. She’s no more than a clueless animal.

“You put that
on a birth certificate?” I ask, reaching out to touch her cheek.

I figure
she’ll flinch. Even flirty women flinch around me. My scarred face and big
hands make girls twitchy. Gidget just stares at me though. Carz wasn’t wrong
when he said she’s dumb.

“You can call
her anything you want,” Paul says. “She’s real obedient.”

“Is she
slow?”

“In the head?
Sure. She understands enough. She’ll do whatever you want.”

“Was she born
slow?” I ask, lifting her chin to force her gaze on me.

Gidget stares
blankly. I wonder if she’s doped up, but her eyes are pretty clear and I don’t
think she’s taking anything.

“Naw, man.
Why all the questions?”

“I don’t fuck
defective girls. Does she even understand what’s happening?”

“Oh, she
understands,” Paul mutters, smacking her ass. “She just lost oxygen to her
brain for a while and it made her dumb. No harm. She can still do the important
stuff.”

“Lost
oxygen?”

“Guy got a
little rough and choked her too long,” he says, pulling at her messy ponytail.
“Look, man, she knows what’s happening. She just doesn’t care. Get it?”

“Yeah, I get
it.”

Grabbing Paul,
I remove the shitty little pistol from the back of his jeans. He struggles, but
the guy is all skin and bones except for his gut. Once I take his phone, I
shove him away from me.

“What the
hell?” he grunts, trying to sound tough. “You gonna rob us? We don’t carry much
cash, man.”

“You know
Carz?” I ask, holding my Glock on him.

“Yeah, he’s a
good guy.”

“He paid me
to kill you two.”

Paul’s eyes
widen, but I don’t think he really gets it. “What the fuck for?”

“Don’t know.
Don’t care.”

Gidget looks
at her father who’s cussing under his breath. She seems unbothered and returns
to staring at the door.

“I can pay
you more,” Paul says after a little more cussing.

“No, you
can’t.”

“You can have
Gidget. Do what you want with her. Pimp her out. She’ll make you enough to pay
our debt.”

“I’m already
taking her.”

Once I say
those words, Paul gets the bright idea to hide behind his kid. He’s a coward to
the very end and I shoot him in the face before he manages to duck behind her.

After he
flops on the ground, Gidget stares at him for a moment then looks at me with
big frightened eyes.

“Daddy dead,”
she mumbles, sounding like a child.

“He was a
piece of shit. You know he was.”

Gidget looks
back at her father then shudders. Thinking she might start crying or screaming,
I take her by the shoulders and force her gaze on me. “Carz wants you dead too.
You get that, don’t you?”

When she only
stares, I cup her face. “You’re mine now. If you’re not mine, I have to kill
you. Do you understand?”

Gidget’s eyes
study my face and I sense she’s still confused. Finally, she nods.

“Say it.”

She opens her
mouth, but nothing comes out. I don’t think she understands.

“Say you’re
mine,” I demand too strongly, but she doesn’t flinch.

“You’re mine.”

“Close
enough,” I sigh, releasing her slowly so my fingertips enjoy the softness of
her pale skin. “I need to make it look like you’re both dead. Lie down next to
your shit father and play dead, so I can take a picture.”

Gidget
shuffles to where her dad flopped and joins him on the ground. The blood
splatter across the right side of her makes the girl look hurt too. Once she
rests in an awkward position next to him and closes her eyes, I take a few
pictures then send them to Carz.

“Get up,” I
tell her and she sits up.

I watch her
stare at her father then she pats his chest.

“Bye-bye,
Daddy.”

Standing over
her, I don’t know what the fuck to do. She’s a kid. Damaged in the head. While I
was a monster in a lot of ways, raping little girls wasn’t part of my evil. Her
body is grown up, but I didn’t know if her brain ever will be.

When she
finally stands next to me, I hear her tell her daddy bye-bye again. The sound
of her voice makes me shudder. I want her, but can’t have her. Giving her up
isn’t an option either.
She’s mine.

“I have
clothes for you,” I say, lifting the bag. “While you wash up and change, I’ll
get rid of the body.”

I take her by
the jaw and force her gaze on me. “You will not run. You will not scream. You
will not call for help. You are mine. If you’re not mine, you’re dead. Do you
understand?”

As Gidget
nods, I see the realization of her father’s death is finally hitting her. She will
cry soon and I don’t want to see it.

“I got you
shampoo and conditioner,” I say, pushing the bag towards her. “Soap too. Wash
really good. Get that blood out of your hair. Clean up and put on the clothes I
got you.”

Taking the
bag, Gidget wanders towards the bathroom door, glancing around like she’s lost.
Before I need to go over my instructions again, she turns on the shower and I
see her undressing. My gaze lingers on the sight of her bare back. The skin
looks smooth and I sense she’s cold. I can think of many ways to warm her, yet
none of them are possible if she thinks like a child.

Her pimp
daddy is easy to jam into a big duffle bag. A few bones need breaking to make
him fit, but I’m soon carrying him to his nearby crappy car. Returning to the
room, I hear the shower still running.

Bleach, lye,
and a special concoction I stumbled upon back in New Orleans makes a mess out of
the evidence left behind by Paul, Gidget, and me. Not that I expect the police
to care much about a dead thug.

After the
shower, Gidget is dressed in the grey sweat pants and a pink tee. Picking her shoe
size was trickier, so she’s wearing sandals. I lead her out of the room then
return to turn on all the faucets. In a short while, the room will flood and
destroy even more evidence. I’m feeling overly paranoid today.

Back outside,
Gidget stares at her dad’s piece of shit car. I take her by the elbow and move
towards one of the SUVs I rented for this job. She doesn’t struggle, but I
sense she wants to go to the car.

“You’re
coming with me,” I say, controlling my temper.

Gidget stares
up at me and I see something in her eyes. When she makes no attempt to explain,
I guess.

“Is there
something you want in the car?”

Gidget’s
panicked eyes soften and she nods. There’s even a hint of a smile on her lips.
We walk to the car and I open it with dead Paul’s keys. Gidget leans in and I
wonder if she’ll return with a weapon. Is the dimwit not so dumb after all?

Instead,
Gidget steps back holding a baby doll along with a tiny blanket and bottle. She
follows me to my SUV and straps herself in. She shows no fear, only acceptance.

Starting the
SUV, I sigh loudly and realize I’m screwed. Gidget is mine, but now I’m not
sure what to do with her.

 

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