Mr. X

by Clarissa Wild

  I’ve got him tied to a fence, his face scarred with my knife. The slashes are beautiful, as is his screaming. Fuck, I can’t believe I forgot how much I loved to hear those sounds. Killing is the opposite of sex, but both are so very, very gratifying. It sends shivers down my spine just watching him squirm against the metal. His pants are dark from him shitting himself after I cut off a piece of his ear.

  I fish my new phone from my pocket and start texting.

  “What are you doing?” the man in front of me mutters.

  “I’m letting your daughter know where you are.” He frowns, confused. “I’ve decided I’m going to play the Good Samaritan here and give you a chance to make up with her before you die.”

  His lip quivers. “You’re sick.”

  I laugh. “Says the man who cared more for his career than his own daughter.”

  He spits in my face. Growling, I wipe it off before cracking my knuckles. Then I punch him straight on the nose, breaking it.

  He groans, blood dripping from his nose. “Please, no more,” he begs.

  I laugh. “Oh, but I’ve only just started.”

  He winces. “You’ll pay for this. You and all the other fucking scum on this earth.”

  “I think you’ve got that wrong,” I say, drawing another line on his face with my knife. His screams make me smile. “Scum are the ones who taint the young with their evil. Disgusting people like you.” I chuckle. “Do you know what I do to people like you?” I hold up my hands and show him my knuckles, sending him a message. “You belong there, along with all the other fuckers.” I smack him in the face again.

  “Fuck you. You’ll die for this,” he spits.

  “How, exactly? I already got everything I wanted and nobody knows we’re here.”

  “You won’t get away with this,” he snarls.

  I punch him in the face, and he groans in pain. His blood feels filthy on my hands, so I wipe it on his clothes. “I already have.”

  Smiling, I walk to my laptop, which is lying on an old chair. Torture is not only fun, but a means to an end as well. It was easy to get what I wanted off him. A few minutes ago he gave me the password to his extra bank account in Switzerland.

  This fucker will lose everything he ever loved.

  There is only one thing I regret, and that is letting her go.

  ***

  Jay

  Wednesday, September 18th, 2013. 2:51 p.m.

  It’s broad daylight, but I fight to keep my eyes peeled. My legs are tired of running, but giving up is not an option. The warehouse X is keeping my father at is only one block away now. He always takes his victims there.

  I run as fast as my legs can take me until I reach a red building with plenty of loading docks, but not a car in sight. At the far left of the premises I see my father tied to a fence. His suit is soaked in blood, and as I come near I notice his face is equally messed up. Scars litter his face, blood running thick.

  In shock, I gasp as I approach the scene. X is leaning over a chair, typing on a laptop, too busy to notice someone coming closer. I try to make as little noise as possible as I creep through the fence. When my father turns his head, I have to warn him not to speak. He falls silent immediately, groaning loudly so X won’t hear me. I’m horrified by what X has done, but I can’t let myself get overrun with emotions now. I need to free my father.

  But first, a weapon. I need to be able to defend myself.

  I look around and find a gun on a ledge nearby, accompanied by an assortment of instruments covered in blood. These must be his ‘toys.’ With soft steps I tread toward them and grasp the gun before quickly darting back to my father.

  “Jay,” he whispers as I come close.

  “Shh …” I whisper as I fumble with the ropes twisted around his wrists. He looks horrible, but I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel about it. I’m angry at him as well as X, but neither deserves to be treated like an animal. Like they both treated me.

  My fingers work meticulously to untie the ropes around his wrists. Once they’re free, I bend over and start on his ankles. My father helps me, but he can barely keep himself standing.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  Taking a sharp breath, I get up, turn around and stare right into X’s eyes.

  In an instant the gun in my hands points toward him. “Stay away.”

  He cocks his head. “Jay … is that a way to greet me?”

  “Shut up!” I flick the gun as a threat.

  X holds up his hands. “Let’s talk about this, shall we?”

  “You lied to me,” I hiss. “You used me. All you wanted was my father’s money, and now you’re even torturing him?”

  “No, I did not use you. It sounds as if you care a lot, though.” He smiles. “Can you still honestly say you never loved me at all?”

  I swallow away my doubt. “I didn’t.”

  He squints. “Liar. You don’t hate me. You didn’t run because of what you saw in those texts. Deep down you knew everything already. You ran because you couldn’t accept the fact that you had already fallen for me.”

  “Stop with the bullshit!” I spit. I have no interest in mind games anymore. Not when I’m holding a gun.

  “It’s not bullshit,” he says calmly. “I did want to see you suffer. That is in the past now. I love you, and you know that. And I also know you feel the same way.” He purses his lips. “You have to believe me, I’m doing this all for you.”

  “Why should I believe you?” I say. “You’re a manipulator. You kill people for a living. How can I ever believe what you say?”

  He swallows. “You might not believe me, but you will believe him.” He points at my father.

  I frown. “What are you talking about?” I turn toward my father, who begins to shake vigorously.

  “Ask him about the sex tape he and the media received. The tape I shot of us.” He grins.

  I’m mortified.

  “You ruined me!” my father shouts.

  “What else did you do?” I ask in shock.

  “Oh, I might’ve killed a hooker, then told the cops where the body was and pointed to your father as the murderer. Lucky for me, that girl also had sex with him.” He laughs.

  My father’s eyes widen. “You motherfucker …” he mutters.

  “You did all that to my father?” I say. “Just because of his money?”

  “No, Jay. The money goes to the organization so they’ll be happy. They’ll take the mark off your head, and then you’ll finally be free. Just as you wished.”

  My fingers tremble. I can’t believe it. He framed my father so he could get his hands on his money to save me? This is … monstrous.

  “Why?”

  He frowns, confused. “Do you still not see it, Jay? When the client is gone, the organization has no more job to fulfill, which they won’t like since they don’t get paid. And that’s where I come in.”

  “What client?”

  “The one who’s after your head.”

  “You mean your family,” I retort.

  His eyes narrow, and he tilts his head slightly. “No.”

  “Your parents wanted me dead. You and I caused them to lose their job twice. Of course they hate me.”

  “You’re wrong,” he says harshly.

  “You’re lying to me. Again.”

  He chuckles. “No, Jay. I killed my parents three years ago.”

  Gasping, I grab my coat, because it’s the only thing I have to hold on to right now.

  “I don’t believe it.”

  “Take my phone from your pocket and check the messages. Since you obviously did a fantastic job at searching through my history, I thought you already knew. This surprises me, Jay.”

  “What?” I fish the phone from my pocket, and it almost tumbles to the floor because of my hastiness.

  As I scroll through the messages, my father unties his last ankle. I’m trying to keep an eye on both him and X whilst using the phone too. Fucking hell, this is tough. I ca
n’t trust anyone not to stab me in the back. Especially now that X is casually twirling his gun in his hand as some kind of silent threat.

  “Want to know who it is that wanted you dead?” X asks as I struggle to find the message fast enough. “Look behind you.”

  And then I see the text containing a picture of the contract X stole from Al John. My father’s name is on it.

  No. No. No!

  My eyes fill with tears as I glance over my shoulder at my father. His expression turns from agony to fear and then to something that resembles intense madness. In a breath he grabs ahold of my arms and pins me to his chest, knocking the air out of me. In a swooping motion, he grasps my gun and pries it from my hand. Before I can blow out my breath my father has the gun pointed at my head.

  “People say you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone. Truth is, you knew what you had, you just never thought you’d lose it.” - Anonymous

  Chapter 27

  X

  “What are you doing?” Jay screams. “Let me go!”

  I raise my gun, aiming at her father. Voices in my head tell me to shoot and blow his brains out. I must, but I can’t. Not with her in danger. I can’t put her at risk. I won’t.

  “Don’t,” her father hisses. “Or she dies.”

  My nostrils flare as I shake my head. “You bastard.”

  “Dad …” she whimpers, tears staining her cheeks. “Why?”

  “You’re a fucking disgrace, that’s why,” he says. “You and your constant whoring; you ruined my campaigns with your escapades.”

  “Don’t fucking do this,” Jay says.

  “Shut up,” her father says. “And you.” He flicks his head toward me. “You had to butt in every fucking time. I hired your family to kill, not to stuff your dick where it didn’t belong.”

  “Shut your fucking mouth!” I yell, veins protruding from my skin as I struggle not to pull the trigger. My mind is raging with thoughts of murdering him. The son of a bitch deserves to die, but if I shoot now, she might get caught in the crossfire.

  “You fucked me once, you don’t fuck me twice, kiddo. I can tell you got what you deserved.”

  Fuck him. I’m fuming, dying to pull the trigger. How dare that motherfucker refer to my scar.

  “Please …” Jay mumbles, pleading with me with her eyes to stop this. I wish … that I could without hurting her.

  “And you …” her father directs his attention back to Jay. “When you hit your head, I finally had a way to rid myself of you, but you couldn’t help fucking up wherever you went. Even fucking states away people still heard about ‘that girl,’ and obviously connected you to me. Do you know what a fucking stain on my rep you are? Disgusting.” He spits on the floor. “You are not my fucking daughter.”

  “Enough!” I yell. I’ve had enough of his fucking insults.

  Her father tenses. His arm clenches around Jay’s waist and the gun is pushed into her flesh. She shivers. Death looms over her shoulder. I cannot let this happen. I must interfere.

  “Don’t you fucking make a move,” her father says to me, “or she dies.” He laughs when he sees my enraged gaze. “Oh, yes, I know you don’t want her to get hurt. Fucking lovebirds. Disgusting.”

  Of course he doesn’t want us to be anywhere near each other. After the accident with her mother he’s been nothing but a pain in the ass to both of us. I should’ve killed him when I had the chance.

  He grabs Jay’s chin and slaps her cheek. My blood starts to boil. “I hope this slut gave you enough pleasure, because it’ll be your last,” her father says. “I never wanted a filthy girl anyway. Why your mother couldn’t just give me a proper boy is beyond me.”

  “I’ll fucking kill you!” I roar.

  Her father chuckles. “I wouldn’t try. If you take me out, I’ll take her out with me. You don’t want that, now, do you?” He presses the gun even further into her head.

  He’ll do it. I can see it in his eyes. He never cared for her. To him, she was always a nuisance. A girl instead of a boy. Someone who brought him shame. He’s always hated her, even more than I ever did. Hesitance is not something he knows. If I pull this trigger, so will he. She will not survive.

  There are only three options here. I kill him, he kills her, I’m left in shambles. If I surrender, he’ll kill her and then me too. He wanted her dead from the beginning, so he won’t hesitate to pull that trigger. If I shoot her first to get him distracted, I hurt her. None of those is a desired outcome. However, there is one last choice, which I know now I must make. When he’s distracted, she can take her chance and save herself. Retribution will be in her hands. It’s all I have left to give.

  I look into her eyes and see them glazed with tears. For the first time, I truly see her. Witness the depths of her heart. Wrecked. Crushed. Caused by me. I am the evil that must be extinguished. The equation is clear.

  “Don’t …” Jay murmurs, her lip quivering.

  Clenching the gun in my hand, I do the only thing I know I can to fix this.

  “Goodbye, Jay.”

  I place the gun to my own chest and pull the trigger.

  ***

  Jay

  Screams engulf me, emanating from the depths of my soul. Unreal.

  Everything X did, all the memories come together in a vortex of emotions. Devotion. Need. The struggle for power. X wanted it all. It was too much for him. His desire for revenge and his yearning to claim me clashed, and now he has paid the price.

  An explosion of emotions whirls through me, filling me with adrenaline and power. My father is momentarily distracted by what X has done, so I take the opportunity to free myself. Separating my teeth, I bite down on my father’s arm. He roars in pain as I push myself from his arms and grab his wrist. Twisting it, I make him drop the gun. Then I kick him in the nuts. As he drops to the floor, I pick up the gun, pull the lever, and aim.

  “Wait,” my father says.

  “Why should I?”

  “It was a game.” He holds up his hands. “I wasn’t actually going to kill you. I was just doing it to be able to escape.”

  I snort. “Yeah, right.”

  “I’m your father. I would never do that to my own kid. I know he would. You hate him, don’t you? He’s down now, so let’s run.”

  When he tries to get up, I shoot him in the leg. His pained squeals entice me. It’s the very first time I enjoy hearing someone beg for their life. It won’t be the last time. Once you know what it’s like to make a person bleed, that love continues forever. The thirst never ends.

  “Please, don’t,” he says.

  “I. Don’t. Hate. Him,” I say through gritted teeth. “I hate you.”

  And then I pull the trigger. One bullet, clean through his head. His eyes roll into the back of his head, his limbs spread across the asphalt. Streams of blood draw lines on the ground like a canvas drenched in maroon-colored paint.

  The thought that my father’s life has ended stays with me no longer than a second. I rush to X. Tucking the gun into my pocket, I slide on my knees to his side. He’s gurgling; the bullet penetrated his lungs. His black suit is stained with his own blood. His fingers twitch under the weight of the gun.

  I throw it away and tear off a piece of my dress, plugging the hole in his chest with it. Of course it’s no use. In shambles I sit beside him, crying my eyes out. Not in a million years did I think this would happen, and now it has. X is dying and there’s nothing I can do about it, even though my heart screams for him. It begs for him to stay with me. I need him. Without him this world is too dark to handle.

  “Don’t die,” I say out loud. I can’t hold it back anymore. I know in my heart that what he said was true. He was right all along, but I didn’t want to admit it. We had both already lost the game. There is no winner here.

  His gaze is set on me alone as he lifts his hands and cups my face. I lean into him, feeling his loving touch. Placing my hand on top, I entwine my fingers through his. “Don’t leave me, X. You can’t do th
is. Why did you have to shoot yourself?”

  He coughs up more blood. “It was the only way.”

  “This was not the only way! You didn’t have to die!”

  He smiles. “Now you are free to do as you wish, little bird.”

  “How can you smile right now?” I yell at him. I regret it immediately.

  “Because you’re still here, sitting right next to me, holding my hand.”

  His words bring more tears to my eyes. In the distance I can hear people screaming. It isn’t a surprise that they found us, considering it’s broad daylight. I look back and see a woman holding a phone to her ear. Good. I hope she’s calling nine one one.

  “Jay,” he croaks.

  “Shh … don’t talk. It’ll only make it worse. Let’s wait for the ambulance. Someone’s calling them right now.”

  “No. I need to tell you this. Whatever I did, forget all of it. Please, only keep the good memories of when you and I were still kids …” He groans. “Forget about X.”

  “No!” I grip his hand and bring it to my mouth, kissing it. “You were right. I ran because I was scared. I wanted freedom … but I also wanted you, which scared me so much more. When I saw those text messages I used them as a tool to free myself.” I sigh. “The things a girl does when she’s cornered.”

  He smiles, the look in his eye softening by the minute. “I wanted you to be mine. I sacrificed everything to get you. It was all in vain. I should’ve just let you live your life.”

  “No, it was not in vain!” I lean over him and grab his face. “Look at me.” His eyes are slowly closing. “You have me. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “My scars …” He groans. “That day your father found us kept replaying in my head, over and over again. I blamed you for everything. I wanted you to feel the same pain I have. But now … I just want you, over and over again.”

  He coughs, and more blood pours up. I struggle to keep his wound closed.

  “Don’t talk,” I say. “I know what you mean.”