Chapter 8 #3
Once inside, I wasn’t surprised a light had been left on. Nor did I care if he saw my face. Within seconds after the injection, his muscular structure would be paralyzed, which would give him time to regret his decisions and repent.
If he survived, he should consider himself winning the lottery.
He wouldn’t survive.
My methods were foolproof, taught to me by my father.
I found him passed out on the bed, still wearing his clothes. I stood over him, shaking my head. I’d found out everything I’d needed to know about him, including his various abuses of women over the years. There’d even been two arrests made, one for rape, charges that had been tossed out.
He believed his lineage prevented him from facing consequences of his actions.
And sadly, it had. Much like my father had done once, his had given him a get out of jail free card that had been needed on several occasions.
What he’d yet to learn was that those controlling the real power handled things differently.
I pulled out the syringe and vial, smirking as I filled the tube.
When I was ready, I sat down on the bed, shaking him until he finally opened his eyes.
“Randy Jenkins.”
“Wha…What? Who are you?”
I took a few seconds before answering. “You know me, buddy. We went to elementary school together. But that was a long time ago. You were at the charity event tonight. So was I.”
He tried to sit up, still dazed. As he blinked profusely, I realized the moment he gathered this wasn’t necessarily a social call. And likely when he recognized me from the charity event. “Yeah, Christian. Okay. What do you want?”
“Just a moment of your time and to let you know you will no longer be assaulting women.”
His laugh was a direct contrast to disbelief and as if a man waking from a deep sleep to discover the boogeyman was real. At least this time, the deed would be done and I could have a clear conscience about my choice in ending his life.
That wasn’t always the case.
Maybe my sweet Penelope was a guardian angel of sorts.
“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but I suggest you get the hell out of my room before I call the police. I don’t care who your daddy is. He can’t help you.”
“You think I need my father? Really?” Wow. The guy was clueless.
It was amazing to me how often the idiots tried to act as if they had control of the situation. The funny thing was he was serious, even reaching for the phone he’d tossed onto the nightstand.
“Tsk. Tsk. Randy. Didn’t anyone ever tell you it isn’t nice to try and force yourself on a woman?”
“Who the fuck are you to try and tell me a goddamn thing? I know your reputation.”
“Who am I?” I showed him the syringe, which at least caused his heart to begin to race. That would help with the poison. “Your worst nightmare.”
There was no pretense, just driving the needle into his jugular vein.
He gasped, both horrified and shocked at what I’d done. But as soon as that settled, he fought me more than most would, including able to get a solid punch to my face.
Wow. That I hadn’t expected.
I finally had to hold his arms, pushing them back to the bed.
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you that women were to be treated like the queens they are? If only you’d learned.” While the poison was taking effect, I was given a bird’s eye view of the wound Penelope had caused. She’d driven the corkscrew in fairly deeply.
Excellent reflexes.
Within seconds, the drug had taken effect, leaving him breathing and able to feel every organ as it began to shut down.
My work was done here.
“I’m sorry it had to end like this, Randy. But aside from learning abuse of any kind is unacceptable, you definitely should have learned touching another man’s woman is a mortal sin.”
I cocked my head, lifting a single eyebrow as the reality of what he’d done began to settle in.
Once at the door, I took one last look, grinning as I did.
You bet I was an evil man, but no one was allowed to lay a finger on sweet Penelope.
With me as the exception, of course.
* * *
Penelope
Cof-fee.
No plane to catch, no work to get home to could take the place of me getting coffee. I was dragging my butt, praying the lovely kiosk the hotel usually set up with gallons of coffee was available this early in the morning. If not, I’d beg for more tiny little packages for the room.
I knew Starbucks wouldn’t be open, but that was just fine. Any coffee would do at this point.
As soon as I stepped off the elevator, I was faced with more noise than I thought there’d be at five in the morning.
The closer I came to the lobby, the stranger the sounds had gotten. I could also see the reflection of flashing lights indicating an emergency of some kind.
You bet I was one of those people, curious as to what was going on. As soon as I rounded the corner, I realized an ambulance had been called.
Someone was on a stretcher, EMTs surrounding the gurney while hotel staff and a few guests peered on.
As I walked closer, a lump formed in my throat, praying it wasn’t someone from the book convention. Could there be anything worse than attending a function and experiencing an emergency?
I recognized one of the girls and walked closer. “That’s terrible. Hopefully no one we know?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. Some guy and definitely not a model or narrator.”
Thank God.
Just then, one of the EMTs stopped the gurney. “He’s not breathing.”
As the group of EMTs went into action, including one using a hand air pump, the person’s arm, fell from under the sheet covering him.
He was wearing a ring.
I blinked once then twice before I recognized the piece of jewelry.
The asshole from the night before.
A tiny part of me felt a little guilty, although I knew better than to believe my reaction in poking him with the corkscrew was the reason he was having a medical emergency.
In truth? There was a tiny part of me that was glad.
How horrible was that?
Several minutes later, the EMT giving heart compressions shook his head. “He’s gone. Time of death…”