CHAPTER TWO #2
The room was ostentatious, overdone, and crowded with the unnecessary.
It afforded him many places to hide, concealing his presence.
The maid had entered, looked around uncertainly, then went about her job and left without incident.
She felt something off but didn't trust her intuition.
He listened and observed, and there were no alarms, no guards, and no unexpected movements.
The retreat continued as planned, so he waited.
Owens entered the room and crossed to where the table and equipment had been set up. The masseuse was not expected for another fifteen minutes. Owens stripped down to his briefs and stowed his weapons in a drawer. He stops to stare out the large windows, and Torin uses the moment to make his move.
The man never knew he was there, waiting in the shadows, ready to bring death upon him.
Torin came up from behind, and in one swift arc of his right hand, he plunged the long knife deep into the side of Owens' throat, severing the artery.
He chokes and grasps at the air and then falls to his knees.
Blood soaks the carpet as the man crumples face-first to the floor.
Torin taps his fingers, and the dust fills the air, and the body and all remains disappear.
He slips back into the shadows as a young woman enters and looks around.
She calls for Mr. Owens, but there is no reply.
She then leaves, and Torin exits through a window.
His final target, Jarod Massey, was next, and Torin did not want to keep him waiting.
***
Shae arrived at eight, and as he was heading to the main house as directed by one of Massey's staff, he got a text message from Lauren.
“Margaret scheduled me for a last-minute massage with one of the executives, a Mr. Owens, and then he canceled on me, so I'm home and eating soup in my pajamas and watching TV. "
"Sorry he stood you up. I hope the guy I'm meeting doesn't ditch me, too. That would be such a waste. If he does, I'll meet you at your place. Save me some soup." Shae was half hoping the guy did stand him up. This whole thing had given him a bad vibe that he tried hard to ignore.
The mansion was pretty open, one room leading into another, not something Shae found attractive, but people, rich people, seemed to like this vacant starkness.
The bedroom was down a long hall and looked out onto the back yard, or rather, vista.
It was beautiful. The man left him there and said to wait for Mr. Massey.
The equipment was already set up, so Shae began organizing the sheets and towels and positioning his products on the table next to him.
It was quiet, and yet a tension seemed to fill the air.
The room was in subdued light, so only the area around the table and the bed was clearly visible; the edges blurred into shadows.
He took a seat on the bench at the end of the bed and waited as the silence seemed to grow heavier by the minute. He wasn't alone, and yet he was, or they said he was. He could feel eyes on him. Was there a camera or a guard somewhere?
He stood and walked over to the large windows, thinking that if he had to escape, the window was an option. It was getting dark outside, and that just plunged the room into deeper shadow. His skin began to prickle, and that was a sure sign that something was off. He should just leave right now.
Just as he had decided to leave and was heading for the door, it opened, and a man entered.
He recognized Jarod Massey from his photos online.
He was a popular guy in Pittsburgh. He was in his early forties, but life had not been kind to him.
His face and body were both sagging, and his hair had completely fallen out.
Shae figured someone as rich as Massey would have gotten some work done, but perhaps he liked the haggard look.
He was wearing a cotton robe, which he immediately took off and tossed on the bench.
The tight briefs he had on were not leaving much to the imagination, and unfortunately, Shae's imagination was not being kind.
Jarod Massey was all kinds of unattractive.
For some reason, he'd expected Massey to be more toned and groomed and together, considering the power he wielded.
"If you'd like to get up on the table, we can get started, sir.
" Shae made his opening approach, to which Massey just stared at him with dead eyes.
He then plucked the cigar from between his lips and put it out on the massage table, burning a nasty hole into the vinyl.
That was rude, but Shae didn't own the massage table, so that was fortunate.
"I give the orders around here." He barked and then squinted at Shae.
"I thought you'd be taller and better looking, your photo is misleading.
" Shae had no words, so he just stood stiff and waited.
"Strip and get on the bed. I want you on your hands and knees facing me.
" Shae's eyes shot wide, and his mouth dropped open for just a moment before slamming shut and carefully stepping away.
"I'm here to give a massage. I think you have me confused with someone else.
" Shae continued to step back, keeping his eyes on Mr. Massey, who looked irritated but also excited.
Shae felt his hands begin to shake, and he was seriously wondering if he was going to get out of this with his virtue intact.
"Get on the fucking bed, or I'll have someone come in here and put you on it, and they won't be gentle.
Now fucking strip." He was not yelling, but his tone hit like a hammer, making Shae jump and rush for the door, but he wasn't going to make it; he wasn't getting away, and panic exploded in his mind.