Cake by D

Author:D
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Akashic
Published: 2012-07-18T16:00:00+00:00

7.

You notice that there’s a full moon as you cross the street to the hotel entrance. A warm breeze is in the air, and for once the night isn’t trying to strangle you with humidity. This is the kind of night where you should call up a broad and watch movies on her couch. You even have a number to dial for once. But instead, you’ve got the barrel of a pistol rubbing against your ass cheek, and before the night is over you just might have to kill somebody.

Frank pops a stick of Trident in his mouth and starts humming Mobb Deep’s “Shook Ones Pt. II,” mouthing the lyrics as a piano lounge fills with folks who will never have a clue. The guy at the piano reminds you of Magnum P.I.

Instead of catching the show, you both cut left for the elevator banks. The hotel concierge gives you a nervous look, but it doesn’t last long. She probably figures you’re a rap group—she must see a few of them. You’d like to see more of the legs underneath that skirt. You wonder if her pussy hair is as blond as the mane on her head. But unfortunately there’s no time or means to find out.

“Hit 23,” Frank says. You follow his order. The doors close.

“You ever been in this hotel before?”

“Yeah, I think so,” he says, biting into his gum like it’s carne asada.

“What’s security like?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “They ain’t gonna stop Ocean’s 11. I’ll put it to you that way.”

You’re wondering if there are cameras in the elevators and hallways, if you’ll get picked up on tape coming and going from the room. You’re on 17 when your spider-sense goes off. You turn to Frank just in time to see him reaching for his piece.

His nose isn’t taped across the middle, so you realize that you didn’t actually break it. But it shows red on his caramel. You fire a jab at his nose, but he moves and somehow you end up hitting him in the throat. He starts to cough as he loses his grip on his pistol.

You aim to kick him in the nuts, but he catches your angle and slams you against the elevator, trying to pin your wrists with one hand. Your knee to the groin is on target and he doubles over. You kick him in the face, pull your own piece, and fire a single bullet. The round peels a piece of his forehead off like a scab. He falls to the elevator floor, dead.

The doors open at 23 just as blood starts to pour from the hole in Frank’s head. You back out, not knowing who’s in the hallway. You check your clothes. No blood you can see. Most of it’s splattered against the elevator wall. There’s sixteen left in the clip, plenty of ammo to get some answers with. There’s just one problem. He didn’t tell you the room number before you killed him. You’re praying there are no cameras.

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