Piggyback by Tom Pitts Page A

to the stomach and ribs as he lay on the ground.
    Jimmy pointed the gun at Shelly, “ Shut that fucking door. ”
    Shelly was still trying to grab breaths between her sobs. Her eyes were wide and red and Jimmy thought she was close to going into shock.
    “ Shelly, hit the goddamn button. ”
    With a mournful cry she reached over and hit the garage door button and the loud door began to roll down.
    “ Now get up, tough guy, ” said Jimmy.
    From a fetal position, Damon replied, “ Fuck you. ”
    Jimmy gave him another hard kick, this one to the face. He leaned over and, pressing the barrel of the gun into Damon ’ s ear, said, “ I saw the way you looked at those suitcases. Where is my shit, you stupid fuck? ”
    Damon made a sound, half-groan, half-growl. No answer at all. The only sound came from his pocket. The familiar sound of a cell phone vibrating.
    Jimmy pushed Damon onto his back. He could see the man was bleeding from his nose and lips. There was a cut below his eye where he ’ d struck him with the gun and his cheek was swelling rapidly. Jimmy felt Damon ’ s pockets for the cell phone and found it inside the expensive-looking blazer. He pulled out the phone and looked at the number. San Francisco. Caller unknown. He stood up before he hit accept and tried to sound anonymous when he grunted, “ Yeah. ”
    “ You never called me back. ”
    Jimmy recognized Jose ’ s voice immediately. He thumbed the off button and stared at the phone, trying to connect the dots.
     
     
    Inside the kitchen, Linda heard the garage door open.
    “ Shit, I think that ’ s my husband, ” she said as she picked up the straw and quickly snorted the last line of cocaine from the marble slab.
    “ Husband? ” said Paul, thoroughly buzzed and bewildered by now. He watched her vacuum up the last of the blow and then hide the marble and the straws in the drawer beside the fridge. He had been waiting for Jimmy to come back in and tell him their problems were solved. He had been waiting for the hot middle-aged mom to invite him up to her bedroom. He realized now that neither of those things were going to happen. He felt drunk and stupid. He hopped up off the tall chair and knocked it backward to the floor.
    “ Oops, sorry ‘ bout that. ” He could hear the inebriation in his own voice.
    “ Just pick it up, and put your jacket back on, ” said Linda, suddenly sober and agile as she moved through her kitchen, pouring out drinks and putting the vodka bottle and ice-cube tray back into the freezer. “ Just let me deal with him, ” Linda said.
     
     
    Damon saw Jimmy standing there above him, vulnerable for a moment, staring at the cell phone. He saw his chance and he took it. He reached up and grabbed the man ’ s crotch, hoping to crush his testicles. He grabbed a hold of whatever he could and squeezed his fist as hard as possible.
    Jimmy, caught off guard by the shock of pain and the surprise of seeing Damon lash out as quick as a cobra, squeezed a shot off.  It was instinct, not aim, and the bullet went right through Damon ’ s thigh. As soon as the blast echoed through the garage, deafening in an empty space with cement floors, he felt the hand let go of his balls.
    The sound was like a starter pistol to Shelly. She, too, saw her chance and bolted through the door back into the house.
    “ Fuck, ” said Jimmy.  He knew that he ’ d have to leave the businessman on the ground bleeding and follow the girl into the house before she was able to call for help. He picked up Damon ’ s cell and started taking long strides toward the door after Shelly.
    “ Don ’ t hurt her, ” said Tristan, his voice still sounding wounded and pathetic.
    Jimmy looked at him, angry that the situation had now gotten so complicated, and shot him in the chest. Tristan flew back like a rag doll, instantly dead.
    “ Useless fuck, ” Jimmy murmured.
     
     
    The tidying up of the kitchen was interrupted by the gunshot. Both Linda and Paul froze