Should I post a part 2?
Dead End Deal Part 1
The rain hit the pavement like a snitch spilling secrets, quick and relentless. Torn City never slept, but it sure as hell dreamed—mostly of money, power, and knives in the back. I had a stiff drink in my gut and a loaded .38 in my coat, which meant it was just another Thursday night.
I was leaning against the brick wall outside Big Al’s, letting a cigarette burn down between my fingers, when she walked up. Not the kind of dame you ignore, unless you enjoy hospital food. Her heels clicked like a hitman loading a magazine, and she had eyes like polished gunmetal.
“You’re Detective Rex Carter, right?” she said, voice smooth as a money launderer’s books.
“Depends who’s asking,” I said. “And how much trouble they bring.”
She smirked. “The kind that pays well.”
I sighed, flicking my cigarette into a puddle. “Trouble always does.”
She handed me an envelope—thick, weighty. Either cash or a severed ear. Torn City was a 50/50 kind of place.
“There’s a guy,” she said. “Goes by ‘Kingpin’ Eddie. Runs rackets down in the East Side. He owes me something. I want it back.”
I raised an eyebrow. “People like Eddie don’t forget their debts.”
She smiled, a sharp thing that could cut glass. “He didn’t forget. He just thinks I did.”
It was a bad job. The kind that ended with your body floating in the bay or spread across a back alley like cheap confetti. But rent was due, and my whiskey shelf was running low.
“Alright, lady,” I said, tucking the envelope into my coat. “I’ll look into it.”
“Good,” she purred, stepping back into the shadows. “Try not to get yourself killed, Detective.”
I watched her disappear into the city haze, then sighed and checked my gun.
In Torn City, staying alive was just another full-time job.
And I was always working overtime.
