Read Red Suits You Online

Authors: Nicholas Kaufman

Tags: #thriller, #suspense, #fiction, #short fiction

Red Suits You (3 page)

BOOK: Red Suits You

Tears collected in his eyes as he pulled the cab over.

"Wipe your eyes," I whispered, "you look like a little bitch."

The cabbie blotted his eyes on his shirt as the cop approached the car. I tucked the revolver between my knees and kept my finger on the trigger.

The cop looked at me in the back seat, and then at the cabbie.

"You wanna tell me why you're driving like a pissed off teenager?" asked the cop.

"Just trying to make some money today officer. I'm sorry," said the cabbie.

"You know better," said the cop.

The cabbie was shaking and sweating profusely.

"You okay?" asked the cop.

The cabbie hesitated to speak, opting to nod instead.

The cop nodded back. "I'll let you off with a warning. Slow this motherfucker down," said the cop.

The policeman headed back to his car.

"Go," I said.

The cabbie cranked the car back up and we took off down the road. I looked around for a suitable place to handle the situation. There were a lot of palm trees and plants everywhere, as we were right by the beach. There were small groups of homes on the right, and woods to the left, which appeared to lead to the beach.

Finally I saw a dirt road on the left. "There," I said, pointing to the road. "Turn."

We pulled off onto the dirt road, which led through a sort of tropical forest. There were no cars or people around, so I instructed the cabbie to pull over. He did just that.

"Get out," I said. He obeyed.

We stood on the dirt road. I held the gun aimed at his face.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked.

"I can't let you go to the police. My mission isn't complete," I said.

Like Ellie and Kendall before him, the cabbie looked terrified. "Whatever it is you're doing can't be worth all this," he said. "You can just tie me up and leave. I won't be able to say a word. I don't have to die."

His words made me think about my original mission. Justice. Or was it revenge? I couldn't tell anymore. I'd lost myself in the battle. I was changed.

"I don't like this," I said. "But many men have endured darker roads."

I stepped toward the cabbie, who stepped back. "Lie down over there," I instructed, pointing to a thick patch of bushes. "Face down."

The cabbie lied on his belly in the dirt.

"You're right, I could just tie you up," I started, "but unfortunately for you, I don't have any rope."

I took a knee next to him, whipped out my switchblade, and stuck him in the back of the throat. Blood pooled around his head.

I left the knife in him. I knew I wouldn't need it any longer. I got in the cab and drove off, straight for the hut.

No more road blocks. It was finally time to end this once and for all.


It took me a while to find the hut on Crescent Beach, but I did. It was really just a house with a tiki bar behind it. The place was surrounded by palm trees. I could tell it was the right place because of the loud music and the tattoed cholos walking in and out. It looked like there was a party going on. That didn't phase me. The more the fucking merrier.

I parked the cab across the street and grabbed my duffle bag. I took out my gun, the smoke bombs and the molotov cocktails. This was it.

I got out and started toward the house slowly. Some girls were out front grinding on the men. They wore bikinis and had great bodies. What a waste of talent.

I passed the house and walked around back. There were a few guys sitting at the tiki bar. They laughed and joked. Their happiness made me cringe.

There were probably twenty people there. No big deal. But I needed to lure some of them out of the house.

From the side of the house, out of sight, I stuffed pieces of cloth into the cocktails. I lit one on fire and chucked it at one of the tacky low riders parked in front of the house, setting it ablaze.

"What the fuck?!" I heard one of the gangsters scream.

The car exploded, and everybody marched out of the front door to see what was going on. I took a deep breath and lit the other molotov cocktail.

I turned the corner of the house and chucked the cocktail at their feet, engulfing several of the pricks in flames. They screamed and cried as they burned alive. Some of them ran, but ultimately just fell down to die.

A few of the ones who weren't burning ran into the house, and a couple others pulled out their guns. So I shot them. One in the face, one in the chest, and one I clipped in the shoulder. He hit the ground and crawled, so I sauntered over to him and put a bullet in the top of his cranium.

Ladies screamed inside the house. Bullets flew from inside at me, shattering windows and piercing the pavement. I caught a bullet in the bicep. It hurt like a motherfucker, but didn't slow me down.

I walked around the house tossing smoke bombs inside the windows, and around back by the bar. I saw some guys trying to escape to the beach, so I shot them down. A couple of them got away, but I wasn't worried. There were plenty more inside.

I walked in the house which was full of red and black smoke. It smelled like the Fourth of July. I couldn't see much so I fired at any noise I heard or any movement I saw.

I reloaded my gun quickly. I'd been practicing that all week.

A bedroom door opened behind me. I spun around and fired three shots into the smokey doorway. I went in the bedroom to see a young girl, maybe twelve or thirteen, on her back. She was dead.

Suddenly I felt overwhelmed with guilt and looked around me to see the terror I was causing. I wasn't getting justice, this was hardly recognizable as revenge. Three men were responsible for what happened to Ellie, and I'd killed ten, maybe twenty. Now a child was dead because of me, and her father was probably one of the men burning outside.

All of the terrible things I'd done could not be for nothing. I had to make sure Seb was dead. I had to kill that son of a bitch.

I heard footsteps behind me. I whirled around and charged. It was a man with a gun. I tackled him to the floor and beat his face in with my fists.

"Where the fuck is Seb?" I said. "Where?!"

The man had pain in his eyes. "You will pay for what you've done to mi familia, devil!" said the man.

I took my gun and bashed his nose in. It spewed blood.

"Tell me where Seb is or I will find the rest of your family and burn them too," I said.

He cried. "White Coconut Inn," said the man. "He does business from there."

The man held his nose. Blood ran down his face into his eyes.

"Appreciate it," I said before I blasted his brains out of his skull and onto the floor.

I stood up. Mostly everybody had either perished or evacuated. A few people lied on the ground shaking and struggling from their wounds. I shot a few more gangsters in the head. One woman had a particularly astonishing ass, so I let her live. I'd only shot her in the stomach when I barged in, so she'd probably survive.

I heard sirens in the distance so I left the house and walked down the beach for miles. I thought about that young girl that I killed. She didn't deserve it. Half of the people in that party probably didn't deserve it. Some of them probably weren't even in the gang, just family. I'd never actually know though. But I did know that the girl's life ended before it really begun.

As long as I had a mission I had a way to justify being the moster that I was. I had no idea how I'd feel when it was actually all over. The only way to find out was to end it.

I dunked my arm in the ocean which burned like hell, and wrapped it up with a leftover piece of cloth I had for the molotov cocktails. I already knew where the White Coconut Inn was. I passed it on the way to the hut. So I headed in that direction. All I had was a pocket full of bullets, my gun, and some caramel candies. I popped the candies into my mouth and walked.


I walked the beach for about forty minutes before I saw the hotel. I was tall and had a big bright sign on it. He must've been making great money to afford a room there.

I was sweating through my clothes. I was thirsty. I figured a high-class joint like that would have some fusion water in the lobby. I was right.

I entered the luxurious hotel and saw two pitchers of water by the check in counter. I grabbed a paper cup and chugged one after another. Everything inside was white and shiny. The lobby had red leather chairs and a big flatscreen TV. There was only person in the lobby, the concierge.

"Can I help you sir?" asked the concierge.

"I just needed some water. It's hot as hell out there!" I said with a smirk. "I like your chairs by the way."

He looked at my arm which I had wrapped up after taking a bullet.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Just fine! Just banged it on something," I said. It probably wasn't my greatest lie, as there was a very visible blood stain on my shirt.

He smiled at me. "Don't need a room for the night?" he asked.

"Actually," I started, "I'm supposed to meet a friend here, but I can't seem to remember which room he's in. I'd call and ask but my phone is dead and I don't know his number by heart."

The concierge shook his head. "I'm sorry sir, I can't give out that information. I can call and ask him If he's expecting someone if you'd like."

"Well it's kind of a surprise visit," I said.

He shook his head again. "I'm sorry, it's against our policy."

I double checked to make sure nobody was around. "Alright, give him a call for me," I said.

He walked toward the front desk and I followed. He picked up the phone but before any calls could be made, I clocked him over the head with the butt of my gat, knocking him out.

I hopped on the hotel's computer and searched for the name Sebastian. There were only three staying in the hotel, with the last names Duvall, Carter, and Delacruz. Based on his Latino appearance, I figured he was Sebastian Delacruz, staying in suite 909.

Knowing it was only a matter of time before security called the police on me due to the cameras everywhere, I sprinted for the elevators.

My heart raced as the numbers on the elevator went from one to nine. At the bing, I took out my gat again, and hurried to the room.

I banged on the door. "House keeping!" I yelled. I banged again.

The door opened and there was Seb, wife-beater and all.

I felt all the pent up rage in my body ready to explode from my fists.

"Remember me you piece of shit?" I asked before jabbing him in the nose with my gun.

I entered the room and shut the door behind me, locking it. Seb ran and pulled out a drawer of the dresser, but I kicked him in the back of the head before he could pick up the gun inside.

"No?" I asked. "Let me help you."

I grabbed sebastian by the throat and hit him six times in the face with the tip of my revolver. He went limp.

"I've been waiting for this for a while," I said. "I'm going to enjoy it,"

I paced across the room. "You really fucked me up Sebastian," I started, "now you're gonna pay the fucking price."

He held his face and sniffled.

"Most of your crew already has," I said. "It was a blast for me, really. Watching them burn."

Then I heard something in the bedroom. A scuffle of some sort.

I aimed at the doorway and carefully prowled toward it. I kicked the door in. Sitting in the bed naked, holding a beer bottle in defense, was Ellie.

She was alive.

She looked rough. Her eyes were dark and she looked sweaty, like she'd been fucking that piece of garbage that lied in the other room with his teeth in his throat. There were needle marks in her arms and syringes on the nightstand next to the bed.

I felt a great weight collecting on my shoulders.

"Ellie," I said. "You're alive." I smiled and stepped in her direction.

"Who the fuck are you?" she asked. "Stay away!" She held the bottle above her head with both hands.

She was so fucked up that she didn't even know me.

"It's your husband, Dennis." I said.

"I don't know any Dennis." she said. "Go away!"

She threw the bottle at my head but I dodged it. Her voice sounded different. She looked different. Seb must've been keeping her drugged as his sex slave.

"You've got to remember," I said. "Seb shot us both."

She just looked at me with confusion and distress in her eyes. My Ellie, the one I loved, the one I killed for, was gone.

The guilt of what I'd done all hit me at once. I'd done so much, gone so far, and it was all for nothing. I wanted to kill Seb for killing my love, but he didn't even kill her. Sure, he shot her, probably intending to kill her, but he ultimately let her live.

But I didn't let anybody live. I killed every single person who got in my way. I did it because it was easier than letting them live. It was convenient, not necesarry. You could argue that some of the men I killed deserved it, being gangbangers, but that didn't outweigh the fact that I killed many people with decent lives to live.

I had become what I hated. I was a monster. I was the scum of the earth, incarnate. I was the devil.

I could hear footsteps behind me. Usually I'd put down whatever motherfucker it was that had the audacity to try and sneak up on me, but not this time. My love didn't recognize me. I killed for a cause that didn't exist. I had no purpose. I just wanted to sleep.

I stood still, staring into the dead eyes of the body which once housed the soul of my love. I heard the hammer of Seb's gun clicking behind my head. He repeated the same thing that he said to me the night it all started.

"You lose, bitch." he said.

He must have pulled the trigger.

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