Page 39 of Money Shot

VINCE

November 14th,2014

I knew from the first day we met that Sienna was different, but I had no real idea of how changing our level of commitment to each other would affect me. There was no doubt she was exactly what I had been missing in my life, and from what little she shared about her feelings, she felt exactly the same way about me. Her having changed how I felt about women was quite an accomplishment, but nothing or no one would ever change who I was.

After locking the door of my truck, I walked around the corner and studied the front of the house. Based on the size and the amount of windows, my guess was that there was one bedroom, one bathroom, a kitchen, and a small living room. The Sedgwick County property listing had it detailed as a residential one bedroom family dwelling, but accuracy by our state and county government was something that really didn’t exist.

One late model Nissan coupe sat in the driveway, seeming clearly out of place in the rundown neighborhood. Dressed in jeans, a loose-fitting long sleeved pullover, and my boots, I looked the part of someone the homeowner might trust enough to open the door.

I tugged at the bottom of my untucked shirt, making sure it covered the pistol hidden in the holster on my hip. After checking the side of the house for additional cars and seeing nothing, I stepped onto the porch and knocked on the door.

“It’s open,” he responded.

It wasn’t the greeting I anticipated, which led me to believe he was expecting someone; and there was no doubt in my mind the person he was expecting wasn’t me. I glanced over each shoulder, cleared the pistol from the holster, and held it behind my right thigh. As I turned to the right, exposing my left side to the door, I gripped the handle with my left hand and pushed the door open.

The floorplan was pretty much what I expected. After a wide-eyed and more than likely drug induced squeal, he jumped from his seat at the dining table and started to run toward the small kitchen. He was half-naked, obviously scared, and skinny, but he was fast.

I took aim and barked out my demand.

“Freeze, Motherfucker. I’ll drop you dead right where you stand,” I shouted as I kicked the door closed with the heel of my boot.

He stopped, turned toward me, and narrowed his gaze. His shoulder length hair didn’t look like it had been washed in a month. He was in his late twenties, obviously strung out on much more than weed, and may have tipped the scales at a hundred and fifty pounds if he was fully dressed and soaking wet. At my guess of six feet tall, he looked pretty fucking unhealthy. Barefoot, and dressed in jeans and nothing else, it was all I could do to look at his scab-covered malnourished body without offering him a much needed meal.

If I didn’t kill him first.

“Fuck, I uhh…”

“Save it,” I said. “I’ll make this easy for you. I’m here to collect the debt you owe Jimmy Weed. Thirteen grand. I’m not leaving without it. You got that much here?”

“Awwe, fuck, man. No. No, I got maybe five hundred,” he responded as he began to dig his fingernails into the side of his neck.

“Five hundred? You sure that’s all you got?” I asked.

“Uh huh,” he responded as he continued to scratch along his lower jaw.

“I’ll cuff your ass, stuff a sock in your fucking mouth, toss you in the tub, and tear this place apart,” I said as I held the pistol rock steady, pointed directly at his chest.

He stopped scratching and began to stammer. “I got maybe…I mean…yeah… maybe…uhhm…five…oh, fuck, Dude, don’t shoot me. Yeah…like five hundred maybe.”

“You’re sure?” I asked.

He started scratching again. “Yeah. Way sure.”

“Sit down,” I demanded.

“Where?” he asked as his eyes darted around the room.

“Right where you’re fucking standing,” I barked.

He dropped to the floor as if someone had kicked his legs out from underneath him.

“So how the fuck did you plan on paying this debt?” I asked as I pulled the vintage chrome legged chair away from the dining table.

“I uhhm…I was gonna…I…fuck, Dude, I dunno,” he said.

“You reached an agreement with Mr. Weed, and he honored his part. You, however, didn’t honor yours. Do you understand that?” I asked as I waved the pistol in his direction.

“Uh huh,” he said.