Writing Challenge Part I: L. Maretta Goes Gangster
A few of my close twitter friends and I decided to take part in a little writing challenge. Oleander, Cindy and I all write erotica. Our buddy, Mark, writes thrillers. We chatted about which one was more difficult and then it was suggested that we all switch and try our hands at writing something outside our area of experience. Mark would write a few sexy scenes, based on scenarios provided by us ladies, and in return he would provide us with a prompt to test our skills at writing suspense. The challenge was a fun exercise and the results are entertaining. I’ll be posting all of our stories here today, starting with mine.
Without further ado, I give you …
“Brother’s Blood”
Sean’s leg thumped as he sat behind the wheel of the Pontiac Bonneville and waited for Jimmy and his friend, Nick, to exit the house. He took a deep breath, brought his cupped hands up to his mouth and blew warm air into them. Fuck, it was cold.
Rubbing his hands together and then absentmindedly touching his chest where the medallion he never took off sat beneath his sweater, he thought about his brother.
Shit, Tommy would be pissed if he knew what Sean was up to that night, but what choice did he have? Jimmy made it sound so simple. Just drive the car and the debt he owed him would be cleared. He even threw in an extra two grand on top of it to sweeten the deal. No way Sean could have turned that down.
Jimmy also had connections. The kinds that could help Sean in finding his brother’s killer, something he had been working on since the day Tommy was murdered two years ago. Sean, being the nobody he was, hadn’t been able to get any information; everyone he knew denied knowing anything about his brother’s death. But someone out there had to know something and Jimmy was the type of guy who could find these things out. Getting on his good side was not a bad thing at all.
As the minutes ticked by he grew more and more anxious and he couldn’t shake his brother’s memory from his head. The one thing Tommy always tried to instill in his younger brother was not to get involved in this criminal garbage. Even Tommy himself was never into the heavy shit. He’d pull some minor jobs here and there but nothing, he had said, that wouldn’t be absolved by Father Boyd during Sunday’s confessional. Sean didn’t know why his brother ended up with a bullet in the back of his head and that ate away at his insides.
“I’m doing this for you, Tommy,” Sean said. For good measure he pulled at the gold chain around his neck and closed his hand around the medallion. He followed with a silent prayer and when he opened his eyes he saw Jimmy’s figure hurrying from the house with Nick’s shadow following behind. Heaving a sigh of relief and before tucking the medallion back under his collar, Sean ran his thumb over the inscription on the back of it.
Blood’s a bar I cannot pass.
Nick’s maniacal laugh startled Sean and he almost spilled his beer.
“Holy shit,” a cackled voice rang out, “there’s almost twice as much here as we thought.” Dirty calloused hands fisted another wad of cash and began thumbing through twenty and fifty dollar bills.
Sean wasn’t sure why but something about this Nick asshole didn’t sit right with him. From the moment he and Jimmy picked him up at his apartment he had an off feeling about him. He was too quiet and too loud at the same time. He didn’t say much but when he did his voice cut through you. And the way he looked- the greasy hair, the beady eyes, and the ratty clothes- it just made your skin crawl. Sean wanted to get his cut and get the hell out of there but Jimmy insisted he stay for one drink.
“Here ya go, man,” Jimmy said in his nasally voice, the result of a deviated septum after one too many blows to the face. Tossing a roll of twenties in Sean’s lap, he added, “You did good tonight. “
“Thanks,” Sean said, not taking his eyes off of Nick. “What’s his deal?”
“Who Nick?” Jimmy scoffed. “Yeah, he’s an odd one, ain’t he? He’s a good earner but man, is he a twisted fuck. He said something tonight just before we picked you up. I can’t remember what it was but shit it was warped. Hey Nick! What was that you said earlier?”
“When?” Nick said without looking up from counting.
“Before we left my house. Something about blood and a bar?”
Sean froze just as he brought his beer up to his lips. His blood turned cold and a sweat broke out on his brow as Nick lifted his head and grinned.
“Blood’s a bar I cannot pass.”
He said the words so that each one was punctuated and Sean felt every muscle in his body go taut. He brought the beer down and rested it on the table in front of him.
Jimmy laughed again while Sean could only sit, frozen in his chair. His vision blurred and Jimmy’s and Nick’s voices echoed in his ears along with his heart.
“Where did you even hear that shit?”
“I read it. Some asshole I popped two or three years ago had it written on the back of this necklace thing he was wearing. Stuck with me.”
More laughter.
Without thinking, Sean unfolded his stout frame and walked towards the table where the greasy looking asshole was, now oblivious to anything except the money in front of him again. Tense, dark eyes swept to the left where Nick’s gun sat, discarded. Adrenaline running through him, his hand shot out on its own accord and grabbed the pistol.
Nick’s head snapped up when he heard Jimmy yell and he found his own gun pointed in his face. His hands flew up in surrender and he wondered what the fuck was going on.
“Sean, put the fucking gun down! Now!” Jimmy screamed, drawing his weapon and aiming it at the kid.
Rodent-like eyes quickly flitted between the two men holding guns and then locked onto Sean’s
“Hey man,” Nick said using the steadiest voice he could muster. “What the hell are you doing?”
“That asshole you killed?” Sean said, “That was my brother.”
Sean’s hands were shaking just as badly as his voice and Nick held his breath, waiting for the hairline trigger to go off. Jimmy shouted again making Sean jump and Nick flinch.
“Fuck,” Nick said. “Listen to me man, I was talking shit just now, I swear to God!”
He saw Sean’s sweaty face twist, nostrils flaring with each heavy breath he took, and the gun moved an inch closer to his face.
“I swear man, I fucking swear!” Nick said, panic registering on his own face. “I was lying; I didn’t kill your brother. I’ve never killed anyone, I fucking swear, man!”
“Then how did you know?” Sean said, the gun jerking with each word he screamed. “How did you know about the necklace? The saying?”
“Listen to me. Some guy I know, he told me about killing your brother and what the necklace said. I swear, I didn’t do it. Fuck, I knew my fucking mouth was gonna get me in trouble one of these days. Listen to me, man, please, I swear I didn’t kill your brother!”
He noticed the stocky build in front of him waver just a fraction.
“I swear to God,” Nick continued with a cracked sob. “I didn’t kill your brother but I know who did. You kill me now, you’ll never know who really did it.”
Sean tried to control his ragged breaths as confusion dipped and whirled in his head.
“Sean,” Jimmy said from his left. “Put the gun down, huh? Let Nick tell you the truth.”
Sean was distracted for only a second but that was all Nick needed to move. He leapt from his chair and grabbed the gun, twisting to the left to pry it free and then jerked his elbow back to connect with Sean’s face.
Sean hit the floor, blood pouring from his nose. Nick just stared down at him for a moment and then he brought his right foot back and connected it with his ribs.
Sean’s hands went from his face to his stomach and he curled in on himself as Nick’s boot assaulted him again. He turned his head up and pleaded through watery eyes.
“I’m sorry, man, I thought you killed my brother,” he said.
Nick cocked his head to the side and aimed his gun.
“I did.”
So what do you think? Should I try to write a thriller the next time around or should I stick to the romance?
