Eau de Fear
by Donna Dickson
I never knew that terror stank.
It's a smell that means your balls are up against the wall. There's nowhere left to run. You made a wrong move, and now you're gonna pay . All you have to do is figure out what the price is gonna be. And all you know is, you can't afford it.
All your life you stayed two steps ahead of the game. Duckin' and divin', showing off some fancy footwork. Never reaching the lofty heights but Christ, you did OK.
You start lookin' around at what other people've got and you're on the road to a whole lotta hurt. It's not smart to have dreams. Anyone'll tell you that.
Thing is, you gotta take your chance when it comes your way. It's not like there's a whole cherry tree full of chances in your back yard just waiting for you to walk up and take your pick.
“Get up shit-for-brains.” Vinny's henchman was not impressed.
I got up. Slowly.
“Vinny don't take kindly to being double-crossed. And you're so shit-stupid you couldn't even get it right. You fucked up, you got greedy. We caught you, so say goodbye”.
Damned if that cherry tree didn't have a few precious jewels on 'em. Damn right I picked 'em.
Vinny could kiss my ass.
I rolled Vinny's henchman up in the tarp and shoved the shiny red ruby between his teeth, the smell of his own terror clinging to his quickly drying sweat.