“Delivery for Veronica Belcher.”
The courier pocketed the tip.
Ronnie slid her finger under the flap of the envelope from the law office of Gardner & Valiente. The paper smelled like old leather as she scanned the text.
pleased to inform you… all charges dismissed…
A smile curled one corner of her mouth. Sweet freedom. Another chance.
She selected a black jacket, low-cut tank, and leggings, stepped into chunky black boots. Cotton gloves fit neatly in a small crossbody purse with her N95 mask.
Thirty minutes later, a cab dropped her at the apartment building. She donned the mask and followed two women past the doorman, then veered to the elevator. She pulled on the gloves and pushed the button for twenty-two.
The door stood ajar and her shoulder nudged it wider. A smell like rotten potatoes made her gag.
“Leave pizza… Tip’s there.” A man’s voice wheezed from inside.
Ronnie smirked and walked into the cluttered living room. The whoosh and clunk of the oxygen concentrator drowned out her footsteps.
“Hello, David.”
The man on the sofa choked, throat contracted and neck muscles corded. He gulped air like a beached fish while his eyes bulged in panic. One hand flailed to find the oxygen mask on the cushion beside him.
“Get… out.” He croaked, shoving the mask over his face.
“Not very nice, David. I come to visit a sick friend and this is the welcome I get.”
He sucked in oxygen and fought for his breath. Ronnie wrinkled her nose at what he’d become in ten months. Soft rolls of naked flesh jiggled down his chest from neck to hips and squeezed into boxer shorts, digging a ring into his thighs.
His voice echoed through the vents in the mask and he huffed between words. “What… do you … want?”
Ronnie sauntered to the balcony and gazed over the cityscape. She turned and clasped her gloved hands behind her.
“You know what I want. We had a deal.”
He squealed and grabbed the arm of the sofa to pull himself up, but barely lifted his haunches when another coughing fit spewed mucus across the oxygen mask. He fell back like a broken marionette. The gurgle in his lungs played a riff to the rhythm of the concentrator. His body was limp, muscles flaccid. A dark stain spread up the front of his boxers.
Her hand grasped the arm of the sofa and the other pressed on his thigh as her face came inches from his.
“You remember our deal? The one after your first mistake.”
He nodded.
“I gave you a chance when you were busted.”
He leaned backwards. Her fingers tightened into his leg. He winced but she didn’t let go.
“I gave you a chance and you ripped me off.” She stood up, her arms crossed. “You should have learned your lesson.”
He rubbed the gouges on his thigh. “I… was gonna…”
“But you didn’t, David. You were supposed to bring me the package, but you had to try a con. Then what? Did you sell it? I hope it was worth it.”
“Sorry… Please… another chance…”
“I don’t think so. You’ve had two chances already from me, and one from the doctors. Three more than you deserved.” She paced in front of him. “The charges were dismissed, you know. Now the second chance is mine.”
An array of plastic bottles sat on the table. Ronnie picked up the disinfectant and read the label.
“This will do nicely. Doing some cleaning, David?” She unscrewed the cap. “This stuff is toxic. You shouldn’t clean the water tank with it.”
Ronnie removed the humidifier tank’s cover and poured a cup of the cleaning solution in the water. She replaced the cover and put the bottle of cleaner back.
Dave whimpered. “No… Please…”
“Ready?” She tightened his oxygen mask.
He coughed and choked, tore at the mask with his quaking hands. Phlegm bubbled up and down his windpipe and green strings oozed from his mouth. A deep purple color rose from his neck up his cheeks to his scalp.
Ronnie exited the elevator in the lobby. She stuffed the gloves in her purse and hailed a cab.
