Chapter 3

Trina touches her lip with the tip of her tongue and feels blood where her previous cut had been. Through gritted teeth she says, "Get off me."

Fran gets up from the couch, "Calm down."

She sits up, "You almost killed me."

"If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead."

A chill goes down her spine, she believes him. "Look, I think we should call it a night." She gets up from the couch.

He blocks her exit. "I'll pay you for the night, Trina, you're not leaving."

"You don't have to pay me."

"Oh, but I want to." He takes out his wallet and starts pulling out some money and throws it on the coffee table.

She eyes it thoughtfully. She could use it, she's not going to kid herself. She still has to pay Joey back. She looks up at him. "No . . maybe some other time." She walks around him and walks to the kitchen for her purse.

He follows her and waits at the kitchen threshold for her to retrieve her purse. "Come on, Trina, I'm sorry. Okay?"

She looks into his blood shot eyes and shakes her head. In the morning he won't even know what transpired tonight.

"I didn't mean it, Trina," he pauses, "none of it."

She moves past him to the door, leaving him in her wake. Bad mistake.

Before she knows it Fran grabs her from behind and drags her back in the direction of the living room. "You are not leaving!"

Startled, she drops her purse. As he drags her farther and farther away from her clutch she feels her chance of getting away slipping by.

Fran drops her on the floor near the coffee table, the same coffee table that minutes before they were snorting cocaine off of. Through teary eyes she notices his gun, her eyes widen, and a plan begins to form. There may be hope after all.

He sits on the couch and leans down to talk to her, "Why do you make me treat you like this?"

She wipes the tears from her eyes and gets up. "You're right, sweetheart. I'm sorry. Why don't you fix us a drink and I'll go freshen up."

He watches her closely, ready to stop her in case she decides to run for the door, but she goes straight to the bathroom. He gets up from the couch and goes to the kitchen to pour a couple of drinks.

Five minutes later Trina comes out of the bathroom looking stunning. She's changed into a white lacy teddy and see through robe that she keeps at the apartment. Not really much point in the robe, but what the heck.

Fran takes a large gulp of his drink and places his glass on the coffee table near his gun. Trina walks over to him, straddles him, and kisses him hungrily. Fran runs his hands slowly up her thighs to her hips. While Trina wraps her arms around him, his hands continue their journey up her body exploring her curves and bends. He moans and breaks their kiss, "Come on," as he motions to the bedroom with his head.

She moves to get off of him and as she turns she bends over, grabs his gun off the coffee table, and points it at him. "Like I said, I'm leaving."

Shocked, he looks her up and down. "Like that?"

The gun shaking in her hands, she nods, "Yes, just like this." She moves to get around the coffee table.

Fran moves to get up from the couch, "Trina, don't be like this."

"Stop right there."

"I said I was sorry." He stands up. "Weren't we just starting to have some fun?"

Trina takes a step backward. "Fran, don't make me shoot you."

He takes a short step toward her, "You won't shoot me, Trina. You know what would happen if you shot a cop? You'd be hunted down like a dog."

Trina, now doubtful, looks at him through tearful eyes. She throws the gun at him and runs for the door. Fran ducks, the gun hits him and bounces to the floor near the wall. Trina gets to the door, but it's locked. She only gets to one lock before she hears him coming. She's about to scream when his hand reaches around and closes over her mouth. With one hand over her mouth and the other around her waist he once again drags her away from the door and into the main living area. She's kicking and swinging with all her might. Finally, she's able to bite his hand. He quickly pulls it away, turns her around and takes a mighty swing at her. She stubbles backwards and slams against the outside window of the apartment.

Max has been watching the fourth floor window for quite some time. The lone shadow that he saw earlier has turned into two. At one point the shadows had left and he thought they may have retired to the bedroom, but they had come back. Now they were gone again. He was about to leave the dark, wet, cold night and head to the comfort of his own bed when suddenly the shadows were back and it seemed as though one was suddenly up against the window.

Before Trina can sink to the floor Fran grabs her by the neck and starts to strangle her. She claws at his hands then his face, but he's not letting go. She looks at him and she sees a monster, a monster out of control. She tries to say his name, but she's can't.

Max sees that another shadow has joined the first. He says to himself, "What is going on up there?" and continues watching intently.

Fran isn't letting go, he doesn't want to. Trina knows she's going to die. Darkness is beginning to creep into her field of vision. She's desperate, she begins reaching for anything. She pulls on the curtain.

From down on the street, Deeks sees the curtain tear away from the curtain rod. His cop instincts kick in. He runs up to the outside door of the apartment house and shoulders it open. He climbs the stairs two at a time to the fourth floor. He gets to the door . . .

Trina's vision turns black and she stops fighting. Fran releases her.

Trina becomes limp and Fran lets her go watching her fall to the floor. Deeks kicks in the apartment door. Fran turns in time to see someone coming at him.

Deeks grabs Fran and heaves him out of the way. Deeks kneels down in front of Trina and checks for a pulse. He breathes a sigh of relief. "Trina, can you hear me?" He sees the angry red marks around her neck and the fresh cut on her lip.

Suddenly, Fran comes around and strikes Deeks over the head with a heavy lamp. Deeks rolls to his side barely conscious. In a wild frenzy, Fran continues to attack, he kicks Deeks several times in the ribs. Deeks, short of breath, tries to get up, but is unable to. He crawls on the floor backwards trying to get away from Fran's relentless attacks. Waiting to deliver the final blow, Fran watches his young, old partner try to distance himself from the his final beating. Fran can't help but smile at himself for besting Deeks.

Deeks backs himself up against the living room wall. He has no where to turn. He reaches to the small of his back for his gun, but it's gone.

Fran sees Deeks' movements. "What, no gun?" Fran, thinking he has the upper hand, slowly moves towards Deeks with the lamp high over his head ready to swing it over Deeks head and get rid of his old pesty partner.

Miraculously Deeks hand lands on a gun, a revolver. A gun that only moments before Trina had thrown at Fran. He brings it up. "Don't move." Fran startled stops. "Drop the lamp, Fran." Fran smiles and starts coming at Deeks again. "Fran, don't make me shoot you."

"We both know you don't have the guts, Deeks." Deeks fires into Fran's shoulder. Fran is surprised by Deeks, but takes another step. "Fran, stop." Fran doesn't stop. He just keeps coming, a look of pure hatred on his face. Deeks fires again, and again, unloading the revolver into Fran until he finally stops and lands at Deeks' feet.

Max regains his composure, slowly gets up, and pockets the gun. He'll get rid of it on his way home. He finds his own gun under the coffee table. He looks over at Trina, she's just coming around. He heads to the front door and pulls his black hoodie over his head and pulls up on his jacket collar. He calmly walks out into the hall, down the stairs, out the exterior door of the apartment house, and heads home.

There won't be any witnesses. Trina never saw him. And besides she'll do what she does best, disappear. And the neighbors in the apartment house? No one heard anything, saw anything, or will say anything. This is Max's neighborhood.