Two muscle-bound men held the scrawny boy down in the chair, one at each shoulder. He struggled against them, but it was pointless. The boy was barely seventeen years old but could have passed for fourteen with his gangly limbs and smooth face. The larger of the two men, a Samoan as wide as he was tall, punched him in the ear. He stopped his thrashing as blood trickled down his chin and onto his designer t-shirt.

With the boy under control, Rick Stahl entered the room. An aluminum bat swung at his side. Sunlight reflected off its chrome finish, and the boy turned away from the glare. Rick took a few practice swings. The bat sliced through the air with a heavy whoosh. The boy nervously licked his lips but remained in his seat with the help of the goons behind him.

No stereo played in the luxurious penthouse in downtown Dallas, but Rick still swayed from side to side, dancing to music no one else could hear. He stopped in front of the chair, resting the bat on the plastic tarp that covered half the room. It was out of place with the expensive artwork on the walls and a terrace overlooking the city but necessary for the dramatic effect.

Rick brushed his long hair off the collar of his plush white robe. "Did you cause a scene at your high school today, Evan?"

Beads of sweat peppered the boy's forehead. "I don't know what you're talking about, Dick."

Dick was the name went Rick went by in his second life as a mid-level drug dealer. "Don't lie to me. And don't call me Dick. It's Mr. Longfellow to you."

"You were asked a question." The other goon, a large African American man, squeezed the boy's shoulder, causing him to wince.

"Umm . . . Mr. Longfellow, I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't get into a fight. I swear."

The industrial-grade plastic crinkled as Dick tapped the floor with the tip of the bat. "Evan, I told you not to do that."

"What? I called you Mr. Longfellow."

"No. You lied. I didn't say anything about a fight."

Dick swung the bat one-handed. The blow landed on the side of Evan's knee. He screamed, clutching his leg as he hit the floor.

"You fucker!"

"Shut up, you little bitch!" Dick motioned for his men to step forward. "Leti! Ja'wan! Get him up."

The men grumbled but got Evan underneath his arms and flung him back in the chair with such force it nearly toppled over backward. Whimpers of pain escaped his clamped lips, but he remained in his seat. Evan cried, "Big deal. I lied. You didn't have to do that."

With his free hand, Dick smacked Evan across the face. "No. I hit you because you got into a fight in the school parking lot. And you drew attention to yourself, which will draw attention to me."

Fighting back the tears, Evan said, "I had to."

"You did?"

"Yes. He owed me four hundred dollars. If I couldn't get him to pay up, then everyone would try to screw me over."

"Evan, you're an intelligent guy. Aren't you going to Rice University in the fall?"

"That's correct."

"Then couldn't you find a non-violent solution to this problem?"

Evan massaged his knee. "Non-violent? You just hit me, you asshole."

"I'm a college dropout. I expect better from my employees. Why do you think I use guys like you?"

"Come on, man. I'll never do it again."

Dick waved a finger at him. "I'm not sure I believe you."

"Well screw you then."

"What?"

"You heard me. My dad's a high-priced attorney with friends in the prosecutor's office. We'll see what kind of attention you get for assaulting me."

"You're right. I can't have that."

Dick rotated at the hips and swung the bat with both hands. It connected with the side of Evan's head with a wet thud. No cry escaped the boy's lips as his dented skull bounced off the plastic. His limp body came to rest with his dead eyes staring at the door. The one Evan had entered only minutes before.

Using a monogrammed handkerchief from his pocket, Ja'wan wiped specks of blood from his jacket. "Damn it, Dick. I thought you were just going to scare him."

Dick nodded. "You'll probably want to burn that too. Wouldn't want to leave evidence behind."

"This is a tailored jacket. Do you know how expensive it is?"

"I pay you enough. Buy another one."

Leti knelt down slowly and peeled up the tarp at its corner. He didn't bother to examine his oversized t-shirt and athletic shorts as he rolled the boy's body up in the plastic with latex gloves protecting his hands.

"Wait a second."

Dick pulled Evan's phone from his pocket and used the boy's thumb to unlock the device. He searched his messages. After determining which one was his girlfriend, Rick sent her a text. I need to take a little vacation. Cover for me. Love ya, babe.

He handed the phone to Leti. "Wipe this clean and drop it in a trash can at the airport on your way to our guy's crematorium."

"Got it, boss."

A squeaky voice called out from the bedroom. "Is it over?"

"Yeah, Tara," Dick answered. "You can come out now."

A tiny blond tiptoed out wearing an identical robe to Dick's, but hers hung down to her ankles. She took one look at the body and turned green. Skirting around the outside of the room, she opened the balcony doors and called over her shoulder. "Will you make me a drink? I'm shaking like a leaf."

"I'll want a favor in return."

"After the drink. Or two."

The goons rolled their eyes as they busied themselves with wrapping up the body. The girl unclasped her robe and strode outside. It slid off her delicate shoulders and puddled at the door. She was nude. Even though Ja'wan and Leti had seen it a hundred times, they were still drawn to her perfectly shaped butt as it bounced towards the hot tub. It was a thing of beauty.

Dick went to a side table and filled two glasses with scotch. With a drink in each hand, he examined the scene. He noticed specks of blood on the ceiling. He waved a glass in Leti's direction. "Does your wife want to make some extra money?"

"Depends, Boss."

"Can she clean the apartment to get rid of any DNA?"

"Sure thing, Boss."

"She'll need to bring a ladder to get the ceiling."

"I'll tell her, Boss," Leti said as Ja'wan wheeled an oversized suitcase into the room.

"Thanks."

Dick went out on the balcony, closing the doors behind him. Tara was already in the hot tub; bubbling water caressed her collar bones. Dick handed her a drink. It was no surprise that she'd secretly followed him to Texas. Tara had always been infatuated with him even after the glow from his high-school achievements faded. There was truth in the fact that first crushes never die— unlike Evan.

In one gulp, Dick finished his scotch and set the glass on the edge of the hot tub. He shrugged off his garment. Underneath he was naked as well. After the robe was destroyed, there should be no evidence of his crime. He climbed into the hot tub and sunk into his chin, sighing with relief. The steaming water carried the stress from his day away.

"Couldn't you have given him a warning?" Tara asked.

"That was the plan. Until he threatened to expose me."

Tara took a sip of the drink and made a face before slamming the rest back. Meekly, she said, "I guess you had no choice."

"I didn't." He placed a hand on her thigh.

She sat up straighter. The mounds of her breasts cleared the waterline. "Do you think we could go out tonight?"

"You know we can't."

"Please. It's just one night. You've changed your name. Your hair. And we've moved halfway across the country."

"Sorry."

"This sucks."

He put a hand under her chin and raised her face to his. "Hey. If you don't like it, go back to the hair salon in Michigan to toil away with all those losers from high school."

"No thanks. I hated that job."

"But you love me. And don't I make sure you have everything you want? Clothes, jewelry, perfume. I put you up in this fancy penthouse where you don't have a care in the world."

"You're right."

"Good, because Rick couldn't afford any of this. But Dick can. And Dick has to stay hidden from the people who are looking for him."

"I like Dick."

"I know you do."

"Speaking of which." She glided over in front of him and put her hands on his hips, forcing him to stand. "I owe you for that drink."

She took him in her mouth. Every nerve in his body tingled with ecstasy as Tara worked her magic. He put one hand on the back of her head and the other on the hot tub for support. Closing his eyes, he tilted his head back and moaned loudly— never realizing that on the adjacent high-rise building, a hooded man snapped Rick's picture with a giant telephoto lens.