Free Unhinged by E. J. Findorff Page B

rubbers.
    â€œOf course. You know how to work my camera?”
    â€œYeah, no problem. We can start whenever you want.”
    A moment passed. This was when Bienvenue had to test the waters. It was do or die. We were ready to charge up the stairs. Bienvenue had to be convincing.
    â€œCan I talk to you alone in the kitchen?” Bienvenue asked. We followed Toliver’s ass to the front of the dishwasher.
    Everyone in the truck stayed glued to the monitor.
    â€œHow much would it cost to get a little more realistic?”
    â€œHow much more realistic do you want it?” Toliver’s voice became a little whiney. I saw that his hands were planted on his hips.
    â€œDon’t get me wrong. I love what you’ve set up here, but I was kinda hoping to go a little further. You’re a man who can make things happen, right?” The view turned, then swung back around, giving us a close-up of Toliver’s crotch.
    â€œWhat are you getting at?” Toliver crossed his arms.
    I feared if Bienvenue seemed like too much of a high-maintenance pussy, he’d get his ass whupped and the money stolen.
    â€œI’ve done time in Joliet,” Bienvenue started. “For attempted murder. I . . . I’m ashamed to say that I was going to kill this guy, so I could, you know, do this. But I couldn’t go through with it. I’m a puss. The only reason I did two years was because I called 911 to get him help after I clubbed him with a bat.”
    â€œWhy are you telling me this?”
    â€œI have money, lots of money. If you could set up something . . . something real, I could make it worth your while.” Out of nowhere, Bienvenue grabbed a real nine-inch kitchen knife and displayed it in front of his belt as he ran his finger along the edge. “Hypothetically, of course.”
    â€œA real snuff film? Is that what you’re asking me?”
    â€œTen thousand dollars. Fifteen. Name your price.” Bienvenue ran his index finger across Toliver’s forearm. It killed me when the camera wasn’t pointed up at their faces.
    â€œYou want me to set up someone to get killed?” It was barely a whisper. Agonizing seconds passed without a word. Then a heavy sigh came over the speakers. “Can you get a hold of thirty thousand dollars?”
    A pregnant pause. “Yes.”
    Toliver backed away a bit as if there were going to be a gunfight at the OK Corral, then hopped up on the kitchen counter. “Drop the knife, then drop your shorts.”
    â€œWhat for?”
    â€œBefore we go any further, you’re going to do what you came here to do.” The camera caught Toliver stroking his mustache. “Greg, get in here.”
    The lean bean walked in. “What are you dolls discussin’?”
    â€œDrop your pants, Greg, and get rid of those packets of fake blood. The act is off. I want Sam to fuck you right now.”
    Greg’s pants seemed to drop as if they were weighted down with a brick. He jutted out his pale ass for Bienvenue’s entertainment. Our man’s shorts had yet to come down.
    I felt myself tensing up for action because something was about to break. I didn’t think anyone in the truck was breathing.
    â€œThis isn’t what I’m paying for.” Bienvenue snorted. “Give me my money back.”
    â€œOh no,” Toliver whispered. Bienvenue was able to aim the lens at Toliver who was now playing with the knife. “We keep the money no matter what. You might as well get a good fuck out of it. Our next deal depends on it.”
    â€œFuck no. Fucking some stranger’s live ass doesn’t do it for me. I need the fantasy. Look, let’s just forget everything. Keep the money. I’m leaving.”
    That was good.
    Toliver hopped off the counter; then the camera swung around violently. Greg had to have grabbed him from behind. Now Toliver was blocking the front angle view.
    â€œWe need to get in there,” I