End Game

Don found himself in a vulnerable position. His legs were spread and tied to the bed. His arms were trapped under his own weight, twisted behind his back and secured by a set if sturdy handcuffs. He had badly underestimated me.

"Ashley," his voice was getting thinner as he pleaded. "You must believe me. We had a good thing going. Why would I betray you?"

I cut him off. "It's not my job to analyze your psychology. I am not interested to find out why. I just want to know whether you are man enough to tell me the truth."

"But I did not betray you. Somebody was lying to you to save his own skin."

"Can you guess who it might be?"

Don did not hesitate. "It must be Oily Hair. He was the only one who could convince you."

"What do you mean?"

"I told him how I feel about our 80/20 split. I told him I was not happy."

"That was why you wanted me dead?"

"Of course not," he protested. "Just because I was unhappy did not mean I would betray you."

As he was speaking, I left the house and went back to my car. I fished out the gun from the glove compartment, and then opened the trunk and dragged Oily Hair back to the house.

When Don saw Oily Hair, he shook at the cord holding down his ankles. "You motherfucking son of a bitch, you tried to set me up."

"Don, stop lying and just admit that you sent us to hunt her down." Oily Hair spoke to Don as if I was not there.

"Just be a man and tell her that you set me up."

"Hey," I interrupted. "I'm the one with the gun. So both of you shut the fuck up."

Both men ignored me and continued to argue and call each other names. I aimed at the ceiling and fired off a round.

"Sit down," I looked at Oily Hair and ordered.

He obeyed.

I walked around the room, trying to decide what I would do to test who was telling the truth. The two men waited for their fate.

"Don," I started. "You and I worked together for a long time. I was always loyal to you. Between you and Oily Hair, we have a longer history."

"Yes, yes," Don said. "Therefore you should trust me. It's his word against mine, so you should favor the partner who has stood by your side all these years. After all, why makes you believe I have changed?"

"But why would I show up to try to kill you if nobody tells me to? Do you really think I have nothing else to do except go around killing for any reason at all?" Oily Hair's logic was equally convincing.

I turned to Don. "Open your mouth," I ordered.

I climbed up on the bed and placed a knee on his chest. He was visibly shaken, thinking he would soon be dead. I shoved the entire gun in his mouth.

"Lick it," I ordered. "Suck it as if it's a penis. Your life depends on it."

Don did exactly as he was told. I did not know what that proved, but I wanted to know if you would still obey my orders.

"Okay, Don. You have proven your loyalty." As I started to unlock Don's handcuffs, Oily Hair made a move. I saw his movement from the corner of my eye.

Moving quickly to close the distance, I shouted, "Move another inch and I'll blow your head away." I stood with both hands on the gun.

Oily hair froze and started pleading for his life. "You have to believe me, lady. I swear I am telling the truth. Please, I have three kids at home."

Don's hands were now free and he was untying the cords that tied down his legs. When he was fully free, he stood next to me.

"What shall we do to this man who tried to set you up?" I turned to look at Don.

"Let me have the pleasure of killing him." Don stretched his hand out.

"There's only one bullet left, so make it count." I said as I handed the gun to Don.

With the gun in his hand, Don walked slowly towards Oily Hair. Instead of shooting him, Don pistol-whipped him, and then punched him so hard his chair toppled sideways. Don did not stop. He continued kicking at Oily Hair's head until he passed out.

When he turned to me, Don pointed the gun at me.

"You stupid bitch, you trusted the wrong guy."

As he stepped towards me, I stepped backwards.

"Get down on the bed," he ordered.

He had the gun, so I complied. I lay down with my face up.

"Remove all your clothing, whore."

Again, I obeyed. I took my time to remove my top, then my bra. I twisted my body to unzip the skirt, pulled it down with the panties until it was at my ankles. Don used the gun to hook it off my ankles and dropped it on the floor.

"Handcuff yourself." He tossed the metal chains to me, aiming the gun steadily at my chest.

I moved my wrists in front of me, clicking the jagged teeth of one handcuff to the right wrist.

"Stop," he ordered. "I want both your hands handcuffed behind you. I know how dangerous you are, slut."

"Now you have crossed the line," I said. "I do not mind being a whore or a bitch. But to call me a slut, that is outrageous."

"What?" Don could not believe what he heard. "What did you say?"

"You heard me, motherfucker. Take back what you say. I am not a slut."

"Let me remind you that you are hardly in a position to negotiate," he yelled.

"And let me remind you that you are a traitor, betraying your partner, making yourself the lowest of the low, deserving of nothing except to suck dick for the rest of your life." I had no idea where my colorful language came from.

Don could not take any more of my defiance. He squeezed the trigger, but only heard a click.

"There is no more bullet, asshole." I closed the distance between us and whacked him in the head with the swinging handcuffs, opening up his forehead. He staggered backwards, as much from shock as from the force of the blow. I kicked between his legs hard, causing him to double over. With a chop behind his neck, his knees buckled and he fell flat on the floor, head down.

I sat on his back, twisted the telephone cord around his neck, and kept at it until he stopped moving. To make sure, I curled my arms around his neck and forced it sharply to the right until I heard the sharp crack of death.

Don was the last man I killed.

--- THE END ---