Chapter 22 #2
While I’d already determined that Thomas Atwood should die for his sin, what I’d learned by use of a trusted contact had made the decision even easier. If that was even necessary.
This wasn’t the man’s first rodeo. In fact, he’d stalked several women over the years, resulting in an arrest after an alleged appearance inside her home. For whatever reason, the charges had been tossed out. I’d also connected him to a case of rape and murder.
While in certain cases, I waited until the dark of night to act on my desires, I also hadn’t been interested in wasting any time with a human cockroach.
Which was why Thomas aka HotAlphaMan was currently residing in a chair, a gag in his mouth and shackled by chains I’d brought with me. Outright killing him would have been far too easy, albeit less of a risk.
Since when had I ever worried about being implicated in the problems I solved?
There’d be no trace of me left, just a dead body rotting as required. I sat behind his massive computer system, his chair placed so he could see exactly what I was doing.
Which was leaving a nice long trail of his ‘accomplishments.’
Why not ensure my interests were protected?
His moan captured my attention, which was unfortunate for him.
I sat back, rubbing my jaw with my aching hand.
Flexing my fingers, I realized there was a good chance my knuckles would bruise, although I wouldn’t know until after I’d removed my glove.
Obviously, I’d gotten a little carried away with using his head as a punching bag.
Oh, well. I’d chalk them up to battle wounds.
“It would seem you’ve been a very bad boy, Thomas,” I told him before lifting my head and staring at the bulletin board he’d put together.
As soon as my eyes landed on one of several pictures he’d pinned on the board, my anger swelled again.
I’d stalked women my entire life, but the fucker was a twisted man.
There were at least twenty women he was hassling, some of whom he’d photographed himself.
I’d been right about him, especially since I’d found a plane ticket. Not to Louisville, but if I had the time, I’d figure out which other woman on his radar would have been his next victim.
Others, such as with Penelope, he’d cut pictures from group photos of various events. Including one from the recent convention in my hotel.
That alone kept my anger in the red.
He managed to lift his head, trying to provide eye contact even though both eyes were swollen, one more so than the other.
“I’m curious as to why you didn’t simply ask a girl to go out on a date with you. It’s pretty simple,” I shared with him as I stood, leaving the evidence in plain sight for when the authorities arrived.
My work was almost done here.
I’d give him credit. He tried to answer me, the muffled sounds indicating he was attempting to put a few coherent words together. Intelligent was another story. I moved closer, sitting carefully on the edge of the desk only a couple of feet away from him.
He had the common sense to rear back, the glistening of terror in his eyes everything I liked to see. Yes, this was the exquisite part, watching their wheels turning as the anxiety wrapped around anticipation gnawed at them.
“Well, I’ll just assume that you were fearful you couldn’t find anyone who could accept you for what you are.
Which is a sniveling cockroach. However, I can tell you with certainty that there is someone for everyone.
I’ve seen it in action. Sadly, you won’t be able to test my theory.
Too bad you wasted your entire adult life on fantasies and blow-up dolls. ”
At least no one could say that about me.
A single tear slipped down his bloodied cheek. The man was at least smart enough to realize there was no return. Once a creeper, always a creeper.
I amused myself and would need to be careful with labeling freaks.
As soon as I stood, he reared back again, his body shaking violently. I walked closer, pulling my weapon from my jacket pocket. He didn’t deserve my time for a more creative kill. Maybe the reason was more about the fact I was championing Penelope instead of eliminating an enemy.
I should face the simple truth. I missed her and wanted to enjoy her company for something even as mundane as dinner. Even a movie as she’d suggested. How novel.
As I added the silencer onto the weapon, I allowed my mind to mull over a suggestion she made about being vice president.
Perhaps I could find a way of luring her to work with Tempest. But it would need to be done on her terms. I’d need to think about how to make that possible.
Not only could I use her talent, I wanted her close.
And not only because she was mine, but because of what she could bring to the table.
Perhaps I was changing after all.
Thomas was struggling more than before, his muffled but loud exclamations indicating he had something important to share. Why not hear what he had to say? When I closed the distance, I had a decent idea he’d pissed in his pants. Typical. Let’s see if the rest of his behavior was true to form.
I ripped the cloth gag down, watching as he took several gasping breaths. “Why? Why?”
“Why, with all the other vermin on this earth, did I choose to enter your humble abode and kill you specifically?”
His tongue was swollen from where he’d bitten it, but he managed to drag the tip across his bottom lip. “I’m nobody.”
My laugh was clipped as I swung my arm toward his bulletin board.
“To the contrary. You’re a world class stalker turned rapist and murderer, yet you allowed your admiration and lust to get in the way of technique.
If you’d asked me to mentor you, I might have agreed.
I do enjoy teaching what I’ve learned over the years.
But alas, you didn’t. To answer your question.
” I lowered my head until my face was inches from his.
“You fucked with someone I care about. In my book of cardinal sins, that’s number one. ”
“I picked her out first.”
Was the prick kidding me?
Of all the stupid, inconsiderate things he could have blurted out, he chose the few words that easily set me off. The backhand was swift, without thinking and providing direct and clear punishment.
His nose was shattered, the chair tipping back and the wooden seat and his body landing on the floor. This time his moans of anguish were riddled with a hacking cough from blood seeping into his throat.
He’d soon be placed out of his misery.
The rage wasn’t cooled in the least. I stormed toward the bulletin board, loathing that my hand was shaking as I unpinned Penelope’s photograph. His body shook violently, another whimper shooting from deep within his gut when I shoved the photograph into his face.
“This woman? This beautiful, intelligent, and highly talented woman belongs to me.” Neither the admittance nor the vehemence used made me feel any calmer. Nor did he give a shit. That I could tell by the surprise in his one eye.
I was doing nothing more than wasting valuable time.
The stench of terror was ripe, more so than normal, but I was weary of bothering.
Maybe I should hire someone to clean up the messes at this point in my career.
While reminding myself this was personal, I slipped the picture into my jacket pocket and bent over, placing the barrel of the weapon against his forehead.
“You would have made a lousy student.”
Pop! Pop!
* * *
I’d never been good at playing the part of CEO where I was required to inspire people. My attitude and expectations precluded me from tolerating either men or women having a meltdown.
At least in this instance, an unexpected appearance, a nice dinner away from the property at one of Bill’s favorite restaurants that included a number of drinks had served me well.
With a tour of the property and some back slapping, I was finally headed home. A day late, but sometimes business came before pleasure.
I’d resisted checking on my sweet possession, which was a little like attempting to break an addiction. Yet she’d answered on the first ring, which pleased me greatly.
“You answered your phone,” I told Penelope as soon as she did.
“Was I supposed to ignore your call?”
“How did you know it was me?” I laughed, as usual enjoying the banter with her. I sat back in the leather seat of the jet, staring out the window. As I lifted my glass of scotch, the flexing of my knuckles forced me to wince. I’d been right about the bruising.
“Perhaps the gray hair at your temples is a telltale sign of you needing to keep watch on your mental faculties.”
“Ouch. Now, that hurt.”
She was delighted with her sarcastic slight, the laugh I’d come to adore heard clearly over the rumble of the plane’s twin engines. “Good. You need to stay on your toes. How was your business trip?”
“Successful and ended early. Be ready at seven.”
“I have a date.”
For a few seconds I thought she was serious.
“Are you growling?” she tossed out.
“I’m expressing my distaste. I assume you are joking.”
“Would I joke about good sex?” When I didn’t have an immediate comeback because I was envisioning what I’d do to any asshole who dared lay a hand on her, she scoffed. “I’m partially teasing. I have lunch with my bestie and grocery shopping, but I will do my best to make it back in time.”
“You do realize there’s nowhere in this city where you can hide that I can’t find you.”
“Said like every dangerous man in every thriller movie to the leading lady.”
“Yes, but I’m not a fictional character,” I told her, finding it uncomfortable sitting in my seat all of a sudden. My dick was aching.
“No, you are not. Before you, I was determined never to trust a man again. Where are we going and you do not get to say a surprise.”
Every Easter egg she offered was one I gleefully accepted. “Your suggestion. Dinner and a movie.”
“Well, then I know exactly what to wear.”
As I ended the call, I laughed. She had no idea what was for dinner. Or where she’d be dining.