The Whiskey Files

FOUR

There was a familiarity as Salem walked into the bar. A simple path he walked every time on his way inside, to a seat at the end of that burned cherry wood bar where he sat every night like an assigned seat and wasted away in drink after drink. This place was more like home than his office was.

The moment he took his seat he saw Benny shake his head and make his way on down to Salem. Taking a long look at the man who was bleeding and turning black and blue before his very eyes.

"Jesus, what the hell happened to you? Better yet, I probably don't want to know." He waved a hand, "Remember I ain't running a charity here, Sal. I'm done with tabs for you. You pay me up front or you ain't drinking." Benny said, rather matter of fact.

There was a sigh from Salem as he pulled out his wallet, going through the leftover bills in there from the night before. There wasn't much, not when a shot was over five dollars a piece and that wasn't even for the mid-shelf stuff. He slapped down some money on the table and Benny started pouring out a double of Jack on the rocks.

As long as it was whiskey or bourbon over ice, it didn't matter. It all led him to the same place. Numb. Exactly how he wanted to be as the past infiltrated his senses. As all the cases he once had filled his mind and Susanna's voice whispered faintly in his ear.

It was all he had now, the drink and the past and as he down the glass in front of him and had another double poured out, he found himself reminiscing about that past as he held that cold glass up to his temple.

Case File 123: Veronica Blum

Most cases weren't as easy as Nikki Hall had been. Most needed some work, some charming finesse and that was how Salem preferred it. To make him work for his reward, which was not just a juicy paycheck at the end of the line, but an opportunity to get his d**k wet as well.

Veronica had taken a few weeks to get under her skin and into her pants. Starting out with running into her at the casino she favored. She loved gambling and that was how he got her. At the poker table, making eyes at her from across it as he had pulled up a chair and called her bluff.

He didn't win, of course. Not that first night. He had owed her about two grand before he bowed out with a smile and a good game.

Returning the next night only to take her for four thousand dollars.

She hadn't been impressed by that, but he bought her a few drinks and eventually they got to talking about anything and everything. From what games they liked to play to the weather they most enjoyed. They talked till the dawn of a new day had started and beyond that, well into a new day.

They exchanged numbers and met up frequently at the casino to share games together.

Blackjack. Roulette. It didn't matter. They challenged each other. He'd stand close to her, letting her smell his pheromones and the whiskey on his breath as the addiction to gambling spurred them on throughout the night.

Then they were sharing meals together.

She hadn't held out for long after that. Every move he made was calculated enough to get her to see the fantasy and romance in his everything, all surrounding that casino like a fairytale. From that first exchange of glances at the poker table to the meal in the restaurant just on the other side.

"Salem, I need you. I want you."

It was all she had had to say and he had known she would say it. Had counted on it.

They didn't waste time any more with games as they got to their hotel room and, as she had freshened up in the bathroom, Salem had set up all the equipment. Small cameras and microphones that he kept hidden on his person; all pointed straight at the bed.

He had taken her slowly towards where the cameras all pointed. Undressing her piece by piece as he swayed her hips against his. She had every opportunity to say no, but she didn't. So as he took her to bed and took off his clothes, he did what he was being paid to do. He slept with her.

He spread her legs wide for the camera and kept them both at an angle and frame along the mattress so that the camera could see every motion, every arch of her back and tilt of her head as his c**k drove inside of her in a sweet, tender-loving fashion.

The microphones would pick up every sound she made; every whimper and moan that accompanied his groans as she called out his name. The sound of his lips pressing little kisses to her neck and chest as she clung to the bedsheets and shuttered in her sounds of approval as she climaxed with rigidity while she clung desperately to him. Setting himself off to pull out and finish in his hand.

The look on her face had been a disapproving one, but Salem knew he had been plenty risky enough going without any protection, again.

"You only got enough money for a single. You want a shot for the road? Hey.. you even there?"

Salem got pulled out of that memory quickly, looking at his empty glass and Benny holding up the bottle where Salem nodded his head.

One for the road and then he'd have to figure out what he was going to do for the rest of the night. He had a shot left back at the office and even that wasn't going to be enough to fill the void he felt creeping from within.

- - - -

Even though it wasn't late when he left the bar, he knew it was after six and thus, Evie wouldn't be at the office. It meant he could easily slip in and just lay around without her breathing down his neck over the state of his injuries or trying to get him into the hospital to make sure he was fine and not bleeding internally anywhere.

So it was a bit of a surprise to find that the light in the office was still on as he rounded the corner from the elevator and came up to the glass door. Confused, he opened the door and saw Evie sitting there at her desk.

At first her face was twisted in anger.

"Where have you been? I'm supposed to leave at five and if I didn't have half a mind-"

But then she looked up from her desk and saw his face, her brows knitted together in concern and her lips pursed tightly.

"What the hell happened..."

She was whispering as she came up to his side at the door. Immediately looking at him. Checking over his eye that still hadn't stopped bleeding and he knew would need a stitch in it.

"Nothing to concern yourself over. Why are you whispering and why didn't you leave at five?"

"There's a woman in your office, she's been here waiting for you. I tried to tell her that you weren't here and that I didn't know where you were or when you'd be back and to leave a number for you to call her, but she insisted. Said she had a job for you."

"A woman?"

"That's right."

"How long has she been in there?"

"About an hour and a half. She's a real fancy looking one, this one. Too bad you look like hell froze over."

Salem was heading towards his office, catching a quick glance at himself in the reflection of the picture on the wall. Damn, she was right. His face was starting to swell and his black eye was getting worse.

"You're free to go, Evie. I can manage from here. Thanks for sticking around."

The moment he opened the door to his office he could smell the expensive perfume. It wafted towards his nose and hugged it tightly like a little indicator that whoever occupied the space had enough money to suffocate him with it.

"Sorry for keeping you waiting..."

He stepped in but stopped, catching sight of the woman sitting at his desk. She was leaned back in his office chair, decked out in designer clothes and her dark chestnut hair pulled back with the little wisps left to frame her face. He almost forgot where he was, the sight of her was beyond beautiful. She looked more akin to a painting sitting there like she owned the place.

"You should be, Mr. King. I am a woman of little patience. Almost everyone these days has a cell phone. I'm surprised to see that you do not. Since you now work for me, that will be the first thing that needs to be fixed. Won't it?"

"I'm sorry, working for you? And who are you, exactly?"

"I saw you earlier today trying to sell yourself to Daddy."

Daddy? Salem felt his spine stiffen.

"You mean Mr. Brindle?"

"That's right. I am Lillian Brindle, but for the course of your employment I think Ma'am or Miss will suffice, don't you?"

"My employment?"

"You were looking for employment with Daddy, weren't you? Daddy told you he had no use for a man of your talents, wasn't it? I have a use for them, however."

"You do know what I do here, don't you? I'm not some type of chauffer or valet."

"Did you really insult my intelligence, Mr. King?"

She stood up from his desk and started to make her way across the floor. She stopped a mere few feet from him and reached out for the front of his sweater, tugging it forward with the weight of her body.

As he was pulled down to her level, she was now eye to eye with him and as she stared at him he could see a wicked glint in those green eyes.

"As far as I'm concerned, you're nothing but a washed up roué who can't put the bottle down." Those eyes raked across him like she were turning over coals, "Can you even get it up anymore with as much whiskey as you drink?"

"Keep flirting with me like that and you just might find out for yourself."

She threw her head back and laughed, letting go of his shirt to turn around and stood in front of his desk. He couldn't help but take a look at her, especially as she c****d her hip out to the side. Taking in every curve and how that dress seemed tailor made specifically for her body.

"I won't be paying you that absurd amount you asked of Daddy, especially since I'm sure all those pretty bruises all over your face are for the money you already owe him. What I have instead is a contract and a salary-"

"A contract?"

"Yes. The terms are simple. You will show up at Oakland Estate... freshly bathed and in clean clothes every day except for Sunday, Monday and Tuesday. You will do as I say, charm who I say to charm, f**k who I say to f**k and in return I will pay you a monthly salary of ten thousand dollars... that is after I take my cut out of the debt you'll owe me for paying Daddy back the money you owe him."

"Wait, you're basically paying me to-"

"That's right. You're my new dog. Don't worry, I always make sure my dogs get their bones."

"I'm no ones play thing..."

She turned to look at him from over her shoulder, a pen in hand and a contract on the table. She flashed a smile before she started to laugh all over again.

He didn't know why but there was something about the wicked way she was thrilling over this that was turning him on.

"It doesn't look like you have much of a choice, do you? Daddy isn't going to wait forever for you to pay him off and, from the looks of things, you'll be losing this place soon enough. How much do you owe your secretary? It is hard to pay employees with nothing. How many more debts do you owe?"

Fuck she was right. He really had no other choice and, as much as he didn't want to sign himself over like this, this was practically what he was trying to sell himself over to Mr. Brindle for. This was exactly what he had asked for, wasn't it?

He stepped forward and took the pen from her hand and stared at the contract for a long moment. He reached for that bottle of whiskey with the other hand and poured himself that last little shot and as he signed away his life, he took it.

"There. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

She took the contract, stuffing it into a manila folder that she tucked under her arm.

"Now let's go get my new little puppy something to drink. I know how thirsty he gets."