by Mya West
Word somehow reached Noelle, and suddenly, weird headlines in major news networks spoke about secret societies running secondary schools for elite students.
Davis Aldridge immediately backed off after that. Noelle had proven she was willing to go to the media if need be, and Aldridge took it seriously.
“Nothing can happen to them, Thomas,” he had told Winters several times.
He wondered what would a man like Davis Aldridge do if he wanted to come after him? Thomas Winters was the boogey man The Beasts sent to settle any situations. Who do they send after the boogey man?
Lance and his friends had done something no man had ever done. Strike Thomas Winters with a bullet. The bullet grazed his shoulder, and there was no real damage, besides his ego.
Thomas bled all over the dock that night. He would get his revenge. He would strike back ten-fold.
Thomas thinly smiles as he thinks about this while waiting at a local restaurant in Mazatlán, watching the docks.
He spotted their boat immediately, but wanted to watch them a bit until he was comfortable finishing the job.
He was not used to wearing flowery open shirts with a white fedora, but you always have to dress the part. Of course, he still wore his leather gloves. He could not take them off in a shitty Mexican restaurant like this. They lack the basic health restrictions. He could probably die instantly if he ate the oysters he had ordered.
Thomas observes movement on the docks. He spots Danna Marson and Bryce Jamison, laughing with each other, heading into town.
Thomas smiles. That means there could only be two left on the boat. He wants to take care of Lancelot Cain and Noelle Maven first anyways. He can wait on the boat for the other two to come back.
Thomas thinks of the fun ways the cartels torture people and thinks he could even have some fun when Danna and Bryce returned from their trip.
Thomas leaves an appropriate amount of money on the table and stands. He looks around and sees no more movement.
Just as he hoped, he does not spot Noelle or Lancelot anywhere. He hopes the love birds stayed on the boat.
He walks down the small dock to the boat and quietly jumps onto it. No one is on the deck, and he knows they would be in the cabin below.
He silently opens the cabin door, the gun with the silencer on firmly in his grip.
“Lance! Stop it!” a woman’s voice calls from the small bathroom on the boat. He can hear the running water from the shower and smiles to himself. “I said stop, Lance!” Thomas hears Noelle Maven laughing. “I love you too, but seriously, stop!”
Thomas opens the bathroom door quickly.
To his surprise, Noelle is sitting on the toilet, full clothed, staring at him coldly.
Thomas feels the pressure of a gun firmly placed at the back of his head.
“Drop it!” Lance demands. Lance grabs the back of Thomas’ head and digs the muzzle of the gun deeper. “Now.”
Thomas Winters does. Lance directs him to the center of the cabin.
“Elle, pick up the gun,” Lance says. Elle grabs Winters’ gun and places it in Lance’s hand. Lance points both guns at Winters with a cold look. “In case you are wondering,” Lance says with a smirk, “it was your boss who gave you up. He knew what you were up to and sent me a very intriguing email last night.”
Thomas keeps his arms raised and maintains his smile at Lance.
The whole time he listened, but continued to run different scenarios of how he could get the guns from Lance and kill them both. It seemed difficult but not impossible.
Noelle Maven takes a step forward, and Thomas sees his chance. He reaches out to grab her, but before he can, she spits in his face. Thomas wipes it off immediately with his leather gloves in disgust. He almost wants to scream at the thought of someone else’s saliva on his body.
“You killed Candice, you fucking scumbag!” Noelle says. Lance pushes her back behind him.
Lance raises the gun with the silencer at Thomas with a hard look on his face. Suddenly, Winters realizes that he will not escape this one.
“Elle, look away,” Lance demands.
Noelle Maven shakes her head. “Not this time,” she says, folding her arms.
Winters smirks to himself. He hates games and knows from Lance’s gaze there would be none from him.
He knows that his end is near and accepts it. The hitman gets killed by his mark. What a funny twist of fate, Winters thought to himself.
It was the kind of ending to a story Thomas Winters would usually like.