Him
The sound of a loud crash reverberates through the hall, breaking the silence of the morning as my phone hits the wall on the other end; the shards and the pieces of it flying across the entire floor.
Breathe in, breathe out!
She still knows little to nothing. All she knows is that you like seclusion. Fuck that! She even defended you.
The need to kick out those bloody roaches out of my property is so urgent. That bitch couldn’t keep all that information to herself. She had to go fucking around with that knowledge. Instigating me to fucking dig about them now.
And what’s the itch to go talking about strangers... strangers who can very well be dangerous.
I would have left the dude alone if I knew he hated social interactions. I mean of course that’s a lie; I would have dug really deep in his digital footprints enough to kill him twice. But that’s the exact opposite of what normal regular people would do.
Like my muffin over here... I smile at the thought. See why I love you so much! You’re just such a good girl. You never go around knocking other people’s doors because you want to gossip about strangers. Kill that! you never gossip about anyone. You’re the perfect woman and maybe all that has fanned the fire to this obsession that you triggered a long time ago.
I walk to my office where her feed is live on a separate set of screens. Placing my coffee mug aside, I take a seat in front of the monitor where she seems to be busy working on her breakfast. I am learning new things about you too, muffin. Like how cooking and watching horror movies helps you to lighten your anxiety. Noted.
But I’ll have to let her be; no time to sync all the feed on my other cellphone. I’ll check her whereabouts later when I’m back.
I resist the need to kiss the screen where she’s seated reading something while sipping on her coffee. My adorable queen, unaware of being watched.
Hope you’ll be fine by yourself till I’m back, muffin.
ARRIVING AT THE MOTELjust a few hundred meters from the toll booth, outside the city, I park my unsuspecting pulsar in front of the trashy looking building.
On the reception is a woman, probably in her late thirties, expressionless and wrecked looking. Wonder if the bastard showed her what he probably shouldn’t go around showing every random good-looking woman. Pretty sure he wouldn’t have fucked her, but anything at all is too much.
“Black?” That’s the key; he never checks in with his real name.
She shifts uncomfortably, almost blushing at whatever might have crossed her mind. “Room 2155, Sir.”
Giving her an acknowledging nod, I proceed towards the stairs, since I wouldn’t trust the elevator in this place. Knocking at the door twice, I wait for the bastard. I mean he knows better than calling me in a place like this.
When he opens the door, a wide grin spreads on his perfectly chiseled jaws. The tanned look will go well with a bruise from my punch. “Why the hell would you call me here, Black?”
He adjusts the navy tie which is a perfect match for his light blue button-up, before signaling me inside. “Why are you always so grumpy? Did I interrupt something...”
His wink infuriates my guts. “Do you want to get punched before leaving for work?”
“I’m always ready for having a round or two with my childhood bestie. Aren’t you too?”
“I think you’ve already had your round of violence. What was up with the receptionist?”
That pulls out a chortle from deep down his chest, as he rubs the gel into his hair. “She’s cute. Isn’t she?”
“Don’t you have fucking brains? Anybody...Really?” I retort.
“Relax! I haven’t done anything regret worthy. In fact, she willingly agreed to waiting till the samples come out clean. You know I don’t touch anyone without them signing into it.”
I roll my eyes to the obvious details, “Listen Black, I’m not here to discuss your sex life. Get to the fucking point. What was so special that you wanted to tell me in person.”
“What’s the rush? You want a drink...” He says handing me a neat shot of whiskey.
I tilt my head in submission, “And who the hell drinks whiskey from a shot glass?”
“People who adjust to whatever’s available... I’ll drink it on your behalf.” Gulping down the shot in one go before rubbing the well-groomed stubble, “You know I changed my mind; I won’t tell you. I’ll show you what I called you here for.”
He pulls out a location on his laptop and some kind of conversation he must have had with a probable suspect, “That’s the place where the dealings are currently going on; that is not a charity event. It is a cocaine party. And it’s there right beneath people’s noses.”
He may seem calm while talking about it but his eyes are red flames of anger. And these are the times that make me feel like I’m not the only one capable of containing a tamed inferno inside of me. See that’s the reason he’s your best friend.
However, what I cannot tolerate about this particular event is its location. It’s a facility for orphaned children.
“Call the others. We meet at twenty-three hundred, exactly three days from now. Let’s go slaughter some low lives.” My mind memorizing all the details of every member associated with the orphanage facility.
They’ll have to pay for involving children into it.
Because that’s the worst, considering the fact that I personally have a history with getting drugged at a fragile age. A history that I’ve long buried...but not forgotten.
I remember everything.
And every kill in this is going to be personal.