Mr. X

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Mr. X Page 16

by Clarissa Wild


  I panic and shoot up from my chair.

  “Sit. Down,” X commands.

  I shudder as a tear runs down my cheeks. This man … his face is imprinted on my retinas. The urge to run is too strong. I scoot my chair back and step away, backing up slowly. X gets up from his chair, confusion preventing him from acting. He doesn’t get it. I don’t even get it. All I know is that I have to get away from the man at the counter.

  “Get back here,” X says through gritted teeth.

  “I can’t,” I say.

  He comes toward me as I keep backing up, holding out his hand while the other is firmly clenched around his gun.

  “I can’t be here,” I say. “Please. Don’t make me stay here with him.”

  X’s eyes widen and then he looks back at the man in front of the counter, who is watching us with a suspicious eye. X glances back and forth between me and him, then grabs my arms and pushes me outside.

  “You know him?” he whispers as we exit through the door. X hauls me into an alley behind the diner.

  “Yes,” I say. “But I don’t want to talk about it.”

  I turn my head, but X grabs my chin and forces me to look at him. “Tell me what he did.”

  I swallow, my voice soft and croaky when I say, “He abused me … took me against my will.”

  X frowns. “What? When?”

  I glance at the ground, feeling scrutinized. “Long ago. He was the one who got me drugs. After a while I couldn’t pay anymore …”

  X’s face darkens, his eyes narrowing as he says, “Then we’ll make him give back what he took from you.”

  ***

  Tuesday, August 20th, 2013. 12:00 a.m.

  I’m staring at the worst scum on this earth. This piece of shit defiled my body. He’s tied to a chair in a warehouse on the other side of town. X managed to put something in his drink that made him sleepy. Before he passed out, he told the diner manager he knew the guy and would take him to a bus stop. Of course he didn’t. He’s here now, and will be punished for what he did to me.

  X steps aside when he’s done tying him up. The man screams his lungs out, but the sound doesn’t penetrate the cloth stuffed in his mouth. Seeing him like this makes my blood boil. Crazy thoughts run through my head now that he’s unable to move. Thoughts about cutting him up and taking from him what he stuck inside me. Vicious, murderous thoughts.

  It’s wrong. This is not me. I don’t want to be like that.

  X walks toward me, his eye glistening with joy. A gratifying smile rests on his lips. He rummages in his pocket and takes out a knife, flipping it open. “I carry this one around all the time, just for occasions such as these.”

  He holds it out to me. I stare at it, wondering what to do. One part of me wants to take the knife and ram it in the man who sits in front of me. The other part wants to use it to threaten X and run away forever. Sweat drips roll down my forehead. What do I really want?

  Taking my hand, X puts the knife inside and closes it. It’s heavy and full of implications. I don’t move. I can’t. X walks around me and places his hands on my shoulders. His warm breath tickles my ear. “Look at him.”

  My eyes dart from the knife toward the man screaming in the chair. The scruffy, red-eyed, broken-toothed man sitting in front of me. I see the things he did to me, over and over again.

  “You hate him so much, don’t you?”

  I nod.

  “Hate gives us power, you know,” X continues. “Hate makes us strong and invulnerable. Hate gives us a goal. Hate is what you use to get what you want,” he lisps. “And you want to punish him.”

  X’s fingers dig into my shoulders. His words are like poison seeping into my brain, consuming me. I look down at the blade. It’s trembling in my hand.

  “You want to slice him up, and make him pay for what he’s done to you. The son of a bitch deserves it, doesn’t he?”

  “Yes … but I can’t,” I mutter. The words get stuck in my throat.

  “Don’t let the fear take control,” he whispers. “Take the reins.”

  The knife drops from my hand. Bile rises in my throat. “I can’t cut him up.”

  “Then what do you want, hmm?” he asks, looking over my shoulder. “Do you want him to pay or not?”

  “Yes …” The word comes out in a single breath. The man screams inaudible words, but I know it’s because he heard me say yes. The look in his eyes tells me he remembers what he did all those years ago. He knows what’s coming for him.

  X takes his hands off my shoulders. The sound of metal being pulled out of leather rings through my ears. When X’s hand reaches forward to show me the gun, I hold my breath. He takes my hand and places the gun inside. Turning my hand to the side so the gun is aimed at the man in front of me, he lifts my arm and leans his head on my shoulder.

  “Do you want this, little bird?”

  I gasp, not knowing what to say. A part of me desperately wants this to end. Another part screams to pull the trigger.

  “There’s a bullet in there that’ll go straight into his heart if you’ll allow it. He’ll be gone from this planet.”

  “But … I don’t know.”

  “You do.” X puts my fingers on the trigger. “You know how to use a gun.”

  He helps me aim. Sweat beads roll down my face as I face the man who used me. He’s begging me with his eyes not to do it, shaking his head. He whimpers, but I feel no pity. Not for him. In full force the memories of what he did to me flood back in. Pain, so much pain. Not just physically, but mentally too. I was torn apart. A girl used and abused on the streets. He took advantage of me. He made me feel like shit, and I remember all of it. It hurts. He deserves nothing less than the same. I want him to feel it.

  X pushes down on my finger. “Kill him. End your suffering.”

  My fingers do the rest.

  Bam. The gun fires. One shot, right through the head. His eyes turn blank, his head drops to the side. Blood seeps from the wound between his eyes. And then it’s done. It’s over. He’s gone. My mind and body are set free from this nightmare he placed upon me.

  My hands are shaking as X pries my fingers loose and takes back the gun. I’m still gutted by what just happened. Not just because of meeting this man again. Not because of all the things he did to me. It’s because he’s dead now, and I was the cause of it.

  “I’ve never killed someone,” I mutter.

  X smiles, stifling a laugh. “Now you have.”

  “Fear nothing. Expect the worst.” – Notes of X

  Chapter 16

  X

  Wednesday April 18th, 2007. 10:00 a.m.

  “What is he doing here?” the client yells from behind his desk as he notices me come inside.

  “Sorry, sir, but in order to protect you, we must use all our available forces. Even if it is against your wishes,” my father says. “These last few attacks have been putting a strain on our ability to protect your legacy.”

  “I don’t need him. I told you before. Keep him away from me and my daughter.”

  “We can be of much better service to your cause if you let us choose who we use to protect you. You did re-hire us for that purpose, of course,” my mother says.

  “I re-hired you to do as you’re told,” he snaps. “Don’t make me regret that decision yet again.”

  “As you wish, sir,” my mother says. “We will not disappoint you.”

  I try not to take it personally, but I know it’s meant as such. I know what I did. I remember what happened years ago, and he still holds it against me. I can’t blame him. I would much rather stay away from this house as well, but unfortunately my parents decided they needed me on this job. Apparently this client will pay them double what they’d earn with another client. Multiply that by the amount of years we’ve worked for him in the past and the years we’ll be working for him now … it’s a lot of money. So long as we don’t screw it up.

  Which is where I came in last time.

  I sigh as we turn around and w
alk out the door. When we’re out in the hallway, my father takes me aside. “Did you hear him? He doesn’t want you near him or his daughter, got it?”

  “Yes, Father,” I say, rolling my eyes.

  He slaps me on the back of the head. I don’t care. It doesn’t hurt anymore. “You fucked it up last time, so don’t you dare do the same now. You’ll obey the orders you’re given, understood?”

  I nod, but keep my mouth shut tight.

  Suddenly, he shoves me against the wall, grabbing my shirt with his fists. “You don’t talk to them. You don’t do anything. You just shoot when needed. That’s it.”

  “What if they talk to me?”

  “Then you cut it off and leave!” he snaps. “Your only job is to fire that gun whenever they’re threatened. You bleed for them. Die for them if you must. But do not let anything or anyone hurt them. Understood?”

  “Yes …”

  His hand is suddenly around my throat as he pushes me up the wall. I struggle to breathe. I’m stronger than him, but if I defy him, they’ll kill me. “Not good enough!”

  “Yes. I won’t defy your orders,” I say.

  “Good.” He lets go of me, letting me catch my breath.

  “This job is too important for us. We have your aunt to thank for a good word she gave to this man about our family so he’d hire us again.” He grabs my chin, his fingers digging into my skin. “We lost it once because of your foolish actions; don’t make us lose it twice. If you fuck this up, I swear to God I will cut you.”

  “I know you will,” I hiss, frowning, warning him not to take it too far.

  “Don’t talk to them. Don’t even think about them. Be invisible.”

  My father looks me in the eye for a moment, a silent threat of what’s to come if I ever disobey him. Then he pushes himself off me and walks away.

  ***

  Tuesday, August 20th, 2013. 1:00 p.m.

  Now, I find myself beside her, regardless of what my father told me. I guess I disobeyed him anyway.

  I take Jay back to the diner, where we attempt to finish our meal in peace. I’m still fucking hungry and I’ll get my fucking food before I go anywhere else. Sometimes I just like to go somewhere else rather than eat at the hotel all the time. That, and I want Jay to get used to being outside with me. She needs to get used to the fact that even if she’s away from her usual surroundings, I’m still there to keep watch. I won’t let her slip away easily, which she should realize by now. There’s no escaping me.

  A bell rings as someone steps into the diner. I hear the rattling sounds before I hear their voices. I don’t need to look to know I need to take cover.

  Bullets fire as I shove Jay under the table, while I slide under too. At first she sputters and stammers, but when her eyes spot the suited men standing at the door she stops. Her lips tremble, her eyes widen. And then she screams.

  I place my hand on her mouth while I take out my gun, pulling the slider back.

  Gunshots fill the room with noise. First they shoot the cameras, then the people. Customers scream and run for their lives, crying. Blood splatters flick onto the wall beside us. I have to keep Jay firmly down, because all she wants is to flee. There’s no flight or fight here. Flee and die. Fight and live. The choice is simple.

  “We know you’re here. No use hiding,” one of them yells. “Does it feel good knowing these people are about to die because of you?”

  I didn’t expect the organization to find me this quickly. We must’ve been seen by some snitch here at the diner. They’re fucking everywhere right when I don’t need them around.

  They fire at random, shooting holes into the diner like it’s some sort of fucking Swiss cheese. When my sandwich drops to the floor below, punctured by a bullet, I growl. “Oh, fuck me. Don’t fucking touch my sandwich.” Now they’ve done it.

  Lifting my head, I check where they are and perch my gun on the couch, aiming for their legs. I shoot once, hitting the first one in the kneecap. He groans and sinks to the floor like a sack of potatoes. One more shot to the head and he’s gone.

  The one behind him is much bigger and when he notices where the shots are coming from, he barges toward me, enraged.

  “Stay here,” I tell Jay.

  The man approaches us, so I put all my weight into throwing myself into his path. As I slide down the aisle, I fire another shot right through his shin, but the giant keeps going, even though blood is gushing out of his wound. I fire a few more times while crawling under a different table. He drops to the floor after six bullets go into his chest. A pool of blood leaks from him. Jay looks at him with sheer panic in her eyes. With my hand I signal her and mouth to her to stay down.

  “You fucking cunt,” one of the men yells. There are two left inside. Fuck knows how many are waiting for us outside. I look to the back, where the manager has crawled under his counter, and find a door behind him. A perfect way out. I’ll have to shoot those other two motherfuckers first though.

  “Hiding under a table? Pathetic son of a bitch. I wouldn’t have thought you’d stoop to that level, you know.”

  “Afraid?” I yell. “Three of you against one of me. Fuck, you must be so proud of yourself to stand there watching your buddies die.”

  He shoots at my table. “Shut the fuck up.” He laughs. “Like you’re the one to talk. You fucking betrayed us, man. All these years I’ve known you, and now you pull this shit.”

  His steps alert all my senses. He’s coming, but I don’t know which way. I check both aisles, but as soon as I stick my head out, a bullet zooms past me.

  He’s running now. Fearing for her life, Jay crawls close to the window, trying to hide, but it’s no use. He reaches her in no time, so I point my gun and shoot. Except, nothing comes out, just clicking. Shit. Now’s not the fucking time to reload.

  I race to put them back in in time, but when I hear her screams I know I’m too late. By her hair she’s pulled out from under the table, a gun pointed at her side.

  “Let me go!” she screams, fighting her attacker.

  “Feisty one,” the guy says.

  As I finish reloading I point my gun at him, but he uses Jay as a shield. Fucker.

  “Move and she dies,” the guy says as my finger lingers on the trigger.

  “Take your fucking hands off her.”

  His hand is wrapped around her mouth, preventing her from screaming. Prodding his gun into her thigh, he makes my blood boil. He smiles and cocks his head. “Oh, you like this one?”

  His hand slips down her mouth to her throat, grabbing her so tight she struggles to breathe. When he starts sniffing her hair I’m ready to blow all my shit. “Smells nice too,” he says.

  “Take your fucking hands off me!” Jay screams, her voice hoarse.

  The guy laughs and then chokes her some more. That motherfucker. I’m the only one allowed to do that to her. He has no right to toy with her body. “Wanna see who’s faster?” he says.

  From the corner of my eye I spot her reaching for her pocket. She’s slow with her movements and he doesn’t seem to notice, so I distract him.

  “You wouldn’t even be able to hit me if you got three free shots.”

  He frowns and makes a face. “Stop your fucking jokes and let’s get to business.”

  “Tell me, what business does the organization have with me?”

  “You know damn fucking well what you did. Stop playing games!”

  “Oh, and here I was thinking you wanted to play a game of shoot ’em ’til they drop.” I purse my lips. “Such a disappointment.”

  “You wasted it all. And you did it for this girl?” he says, pushing the gun further into Jay’s stomach. A knife appears from deep down in her pocket as she carefully takes it out, trying not to get noticed. My knife. She must’ve picked it up from the ground while I was untying our victim from before.

  “This is what made you turn against us? She’s a fucking whore!” he yells.

  Jay grabs a firm hold of the knife, grinding her teet
h. “I’m not a whore!” she says through gritted teeth. A quick jab backwards is all it takes to jam the knife into his abdomen. He groans and reaches for his stomach, releasing her from his grip. At the same time she jumps away I pull the trigger and shoot that fucker straight in the heart. His eyes roll into the back of his head as he drops backwards onto the table and slips down toward the ground.

  She turns around, hesitating for a moment, gazing at the dead body before her. I crawl out from under the table and watch her go to her knees and pull the knife from his belly. Making a face, she glances at the blood before quickly wiping it on his clothes.

  “C’mon,” I say. “Back door.”

  She nods, tucking the knife into her pocket, and follows me back. I keep my gun aimed, ready to pull the trigger if they show their faces. There’s probably at least another two waiting to ambush us outside. We need to be prepared. As I open the door, I look around and clear the area before stepping out with her. She’s right behind me, tiptoeing as we walk alongside the building. My knife is still in her pocket and I know she could pull it out and stick me with it at any moment. Except, she doesn’t. Maybe it’s the fear of being in the middle of a gunfight, but for now I don’t think she’ll attack me. She knows I’m her only way out of this mess.

  I look around the barren land. The area is open, and there’s nowhere to hide, meaning they’re either all in their car or waiting for me at mine.

  “What do we do?” she whispers.

  “Get the fuck out of here, what else?”

  “No, I mean, all your stuff is in the hotel room, isn’t it?”

  “So?” I glance at her over my shoulder.

  “Well, if we go back there, won’t they follow us?”

  I sigh. She’s got a point there. Hadn’t thought about that. But I have to get back there. I didn’t bring my toys with me; they’re all still in my room. No way I’m ever leaving them behind.

  “We’re going back there. I’ll figure a way to get us out of here … So long as I can fucking kill them all, they won’t know where we’ve gone,” I say as we approach the parking lot. Antonio’s car is right next to mine. Great. Fucking fantastic.

 

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