The Innocents Nathan Senthil (i wanna iguana read aloud TXT) 📖

of hell. Until now, Lolly seemed logical. A robber, just another hungry animal hunting for food. But now he appeared scary. A psychopath maiming a fellow man.

And enjoying it. Why else would he do it four times?

This was not an animal. It was much more dangerous. It was human.

Bugsy, though a rotten soggy potato, controlled the Detroit Mafia. That should count for something, right? Joshua told himself it did, so the languid Don would appear somewhat less pathetic.

“Thanks for seeing—”

“Ah…” Bugsy grunted.

Peter looked at the kid who shook his head.

Bugsy acted weird. Biting his lower lip and rolling his eyes into his skull, before moaning loudly and arching his head back. As if he was having an erotic heart attack.

A few seconds later, Bugsy’s wheelchair rolled back a little. How did he move it without help?

And then a naked young Asian girl emerged from beneath his table. She crawled out on all fours, before standing to her full height, which was under five feet. She wiped the corner of her mouth and sashayed her way out, winking at Peter.

“Thirty-seven seconds. Longest this year.” Bugsy smirked at the kid. “Pay her double.”

As the kid nodded, Bugsy pointed his chin at a pair of chairs opposite him. Joshua pulled one back and sat, folding his legs below the rung. He’d much rather not stretch his feet under the table, where the girl had just been.

Bugsy caught Joshua squirming. “I don’t bite, you know.”

Joshua, wanting to avoid eye contact, looked around, at the photos on the walls. They portrayed a burly man trekking, swimming, kayaking, and doing other arduous but gratifying physical activities.

Bugsy said, “That was me. Strong, handsome, and I lasted way more than thirty-seven seconds.”

“I… I feel horrible, I’m sorry,” Joshua blurted. And meant it. “Why do you think Lolly… um… did this to you?”

“That’s what’s been driving me nuts all these years,” Bugsy shouted, spittle shot in angry wisps. “I don’t fucking have a clue who the fuck he is and what his fucking beef with me is.”

Joshua was at a loss of words.

Panting, Bugsy slowly gained composure. “I’m desperately clinging to this useless body just to know the why. And then skin him alive, of course.”

Peter said, “Tell us what you know. Even if it’s illegal. Any information you give can help us catch him.”

“Illegal…” Bugsy laughed.

Joshua said, “I’ve been after Lolly for twenty-six years. I could probably be the only person who knows a lot about him.”

“I know who you are, Chase. I also know about your family.”

Joshua blinked deliberately. “M-my family?”

For the first time since their visit, Bugsy appeared menacing. His dark lips stretched into a bone-chilling grin, displaying two rows of yellow teeth. As if he knew a secret about Joshua that no one else did. “Thanks to you, I finally have a chance at Lolly.”

Joshua said, “You do?”

“Yes. With your help.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“You’ll know that in time.” Bugsy nodded to himself, then yelled, “Now fuck off, fuck off, fuck off!”

“What?” Joshua was dumbstruck. Why would he throw a tantrum like that? Perhaps his body wasn’t the only thing that was melting. Maybe his psyche had, too.

The kid walked towards them, and they both stood up. Joshua almost crossed the door’s threshold, the kid practically jostling them out.

“Goddamn it,” Bugsy cursed aloud.

“What?!” Joshua asked, holding the door frame, hoping to get something, anything, from the arrogant whale.

Bugsy shook his head in vehemence. “That whore forgot to do the zipper.”

* * *

They had called it quits with the alcohol. Peter said enough was enough, and they weren’t college kids. He didn’t want to drink three nights continuously. Although Joshua was against the decision, he didn’t like to drink alone. That was the first gear in the fast lane to become an alcoholic.

For the last two nights, he had slept harmoniously because he’d blacked out.

Now the fear returned. With a vengeance. And Bugsy’s disfigured body flashed before his eyes whenever he closed them.

Carrying his revolver, Joshua plodded to a couch. He switched the TV on and let his brain rest out of exhaustion whenever it could. Short fitful bouts were all he could manage.

He slipped in and out of reality, until the sunlight glowed through the window, and he heard traffic outside.

A message from Wheeler vibrated his phone on the coffee table. He read it quickly and resumed staring at the TV.

An hour or three later, Peter knocked on the door and let himself in with a spare key.

“Been up the whole night?” he said.

“Don’t know,” Joshua said, tepidly. “Can’t remember.”

Gun in hand, he pushed himself to his feet. But his hips cramped halfway, and he sat back, cursing. After placing the loaded weapon on the table, he twisted his torso, left to right and vice versa.

A warm hand touched his shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze.

Joshua looked up at Peter.

“Don’t let your enemies wreck your mind,” Peter said with a small smile. “They can get your body, but your mind should always belong to you.”

“Whatever.” Joshua sighed and got up. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Wheeler texted me the address of a regular who knew Lolly when he was a kid.”

“What’s his name?”

“Marcus Thomson,” Joshua said. “Street name, Congo.”

* * *

Joshua watched the side mirror as Peter exited the city through Michigan Highway. He was observing a black sedan coming up behind them. It flashed the headlamps and overtook his car.

The driver didn’t don a ski mask or carry a big ass gun. The person behind the wheel was a redheaded white girl, in professional attire. She smiled at him warmly, before driving ahead and pulling over at a gas station. Joshua read Physician under her plate.

Hating himself for being timid,