by I. T. Lucas
“Don’t worry about that part. I can supply you with the script and the agenda. Do you want to have a say in what it would be?”
Losham was leading up to this. It was where Shawn was supposed to spill his own set of beliefs if he had any.
“I like your attitude toward females. That’s something I stand a hundred percent behind and have no problem promoting. Other than that, as long as you don’t ask me to preach turning the other cheek, I don’t care what it is. If you want me to convince a bunch of guys to chant prayers to Satan or some other crap like that, I’ll do it. I don’t have a problem with inciting them to violence either. What I want is to grow this shit into a profit making machine and get revenge on the whoring cunt who left me and stole my money.”
Losham patted Rami on the back and offered Shawn a wide grin. “Then we have a deal, Mr. Davison. How does ten thousand a month starting salary sound?”
Shawn’s eyes popped wide open. “Sounds good, what about profit sharing?”
“Once the cult starts making money, I only want to keep twenty percent. The rest will go to you, but naturally, your salary will get deducted from your share.”
Shawn whistled. “One hell of an offer, Logan. When do I start?”
“You need to give notice at your current place of employment. Are two weeks good?” Losham needed time to formulate the new religion that Shawn would be preaching. Otherwise, he would’ve demanded an earlier start.
Shawn offered his hand. “Let’s shake on it, but I would like to get this in writing too. No offense, Logan, but I don’t want to leave my job for empty promises. I make good money selling luxury cars.”
“Naturally.”
Losham lifted his palm and Rami put a checkbook on it together with a pen.
“Would the first month’s pay put you at ease?”
The guy’s eyes were on the checkbook when he nodded. “Sure.”
Handing the human a check for ten thousand dollars, Losham held on to it for a moment longer. “One more thing, my friend. The time for your revenge will come, but not yet, and not without my permission. I don’t want my new manager getting in trouble with the law.”
The guy didn’t like it, but the allure of a ten thousand dollar check was apparently stronger than his need for immediate revenge.
“I will not do anything illegal.”
“Good enough.”
CHAPTER 45: CALLIE
The waiting room at the clinic was depressing. Out of the six women waiting to be called in, Callie was the only one not pregnant. The woman next to her was with her husband, and the two were holding hands, whispering in each other's ears, and smiling like a couple of teenagers in love.
She felt like crap.
You’re only twenty-one, she kept repeating in her head like a mantra. She had plenty of time to start a family. Her heart, though, had other ideas. It wanted her to be the woman sitting next to her with her loving husband and a baby on the way.
Grabbing a magazine, Callie searched for something interesting to read, but every other story was about nursing or baby development and how to stay healthy while expecting. She dropped it on the table and grabbed another one.
“Heather Wilson?” the nurse repeated.
It took a moment for the name to register as hers.
“That's me.” She jumped to her feet. “I’m so sorry for keeping you waiting. How are you doing?”
The nurse smiled. “I’m great. How about you? A lot on your mind?”
You have no idea. “I’m good. I was just reading an interesting article.”
The nurse guided Callie to her station. “Please take a seat.”
“Thank you.” Cradling her purse in her lap, Callie sat down. She had five thousand dollars in there for the car she was going to buy later, and she needed to keep it close.
“I see you are here about contraceptives.”
Callie nodded.
“Do you remember the date of your last period?”
Five minutes later, she was in the doctor’s room after having been weighed, her height measured, and her blood pressure recorded. There had been an uncomfortable moment when the nurse asked about Callie’s previous doctor and her medical record. Callie had mumbled something about it being in Alabama, and the nurse had dropped the subject. Perhaps she needed to write a fake history for Heather Wilson and memorize it. It would make it easier to come up with answers on the spot.
The energetic knock on the door made her jump and hastily tuck the thin sheet around her naked lower half.
“Can I come in?” A woman’s voice.
That was a relief. On the phone, Callie had gotten only the doctor’s last name. It didn’t matter, a doctor was a doctor, but Callie preferred a female gynecologist.
“Yes.”
Dr. Stone was a tall, middle-aged woman with cropped silver hair and a no-nonsense attitude.
“Have you ever taken oral contraceptives before?”
“No.”
“You opted for the shot?”
“No. I never used any contraceptives other than condoms.”
The doctor nodded, looking over the chart the nurse had prepared.
Callie wondered what the doctor was thinking. Until she read the part about the marriage and the miscarriage in Callie’s file, she was probably assuming Callie was entering her first exclusive relationship and was ready to discard the rubber.
In a way, it had been true at the time Callie had made the appointment, but that was no longer the case. God knew when she was going to have sex again. She should wait to start the pills. It didn’t make sense to stuff her body with unnecessary hormones until she had a partner again. Which was not going to happen anytime soon.
For the foreseeable future, Callie was done with men.
“You have several options. One is a pill that you need to remember to take every day. There are two kinds of pills, and I’ll explain the differences later. The second is the shot which you need to remember to come for every eleven to twelve weeks. The third is an IUD which is an implant good for about ten years. Other than that there are patches and—”
By the time the doctor was done, Callie felt more confused than informed. There were too many options and possible side effects. Everything from weight gain to tender breasts to bleeding between periods and a long infertility period after the shot which scared her the most.
“I’m starting to think I should stick with the condoms.”
The doctor smiled indulgently. “I don’t blame you. But you need to realize that those are only possible side effects. You may not get any, or only a mild case of a few. My job is to make sure you are aware of them and the risks involved with each method. Condoms have their problems too.”
Callie knew it better than most.
“What do you recommend?”
“If you trust yourself to remember to take the pill every day, I would start with that. Out of all the options, it has the fewest side effects.”
“The pill it is, then.”
“Good choice. Keep using the condoms for the first seven days. But if you have reason to suspect your partner isn’t clean, don’t stop using them.”
Callie looked down at her hands, gathering the nerve for her next question. “How do I know that I’m clean?”
The doctor turned around from the keyboard where she’d been typing in her notes. “When was the last time you had unprotected sex?”
“Over a month ago. With my ex-husband,” she added, not wanting the doctor to think she was irresponsible. “At the time, he was the only one I ever had sex with, but I’m not certain of his fidelity.”
The doctor looked unfazed. Probably not the first time she’d heard that particular concern.
“I can perform two tests. One will give you a rapid result, the other takes longer but is more accurate.”
“Can I do both?”
“Sure.”
Callie was afraid to ask how much all of that was going to cost. Several hundred for sure. But whateve
r it was, her peace of mind was worth it.
Thank God, the rapid test came out negative.
The doctor gave her a free pack of pills and a prescription. “Call me if you have any concerns, or if you experience bothersome side effects. There are many other brands you can try.”
“I will. Thank you.”
The free sample saved Callie a trip to the pharmacy, which meant she could go straight to see the first car on her list.
She pulled out her phone and called the owner. “Hi, it’s Heather. I can be there in half an hour. Is that okay?”
“Yeah, no problem.”
Callie called a taxi, which took fifteen minutes to pick her up, causing her to arrive a little late at her destination.
The owner was waiting outside when she got there, and after a short negotiation, she was the proud owner of a 2009 Chevy Aveo. The guy agreed to shave off two hundred dollars of his asking price because Callie was paying cash, which brought the cost down to thirty-five hundred dollars. Not a bad deal for a car that was in good condition and had low mileage given that it was eight years old.
Now it remained to be seen if her fake documentation would pass the test of registering the vehicle in her new name. She also needed insurance.
One thing at the time.
The important thing was that she’d taken the first step toward her independence. A new job and a new apartment were next.
CHAPTER 46: ANANDUR
Finally. Anandur smiled as his phone chimed with the ringtone he’d assigned to Carol. He’d known she was going to cave in. The mission, although dangerous in the extreme, was too tempting for her to give up just because she was squeamish about killing an animal.
“Carol, what’s up?” He was already thinking about where he should take her hunting.
“You need to come down to the gym.”
He frowned, switching the phone to his other ear. “Why? What’s going on? Is anyone giving you trouble?”
Taking over the self-defense classes when Carol herself was still a trainee must have been difficult. There were always assholes who liked to mouth off to the instructor, especially when she was a small, soft woman like Carol.
“It’s Brundar. He’s been training for hours, and he looks like he is going to drop any moment but pushes himself to keep going. No one dares to approach him, but maybe you can talk sense into him. Do you know what’s eating him?”
Anandur had an inkling that it had something to do with a certain green-eyed girl.
“I’m coming down. In the meantime, clear the gym.”
“Already did.”
Anandur had seen his brother in that state before. Not lately, though. It hadn’t happened in decades, but he knew the signs.
When Brundar couldn’t handle his emotions, he retreated deep into himself. His pale blue eyes, which looked cold and unfeeling on any given day, turned so flat and deadened that he looked soulless.
But he wasn’t. Brundar was hurting, and the only way he knew how to deal with emotional upheaval was to beat it into submission either by storming into battle or keep training until he dropped.
The thing was, there was not much Anandur could do about it besides watch over the guy and make sure he didn’t attack any innocent bystanders. When he got like that, Brundar turned into a machine, oblivious to the fact that his body was made of flesh and bone and not titanium, and that not everyone around him was the enemy.
When he got there, Carol was waiting for him outside the gym, her big eyes showing her worry. “Do you know what’s wrong with him?”
He patted her shoulder. “When other guys drown their sorrows in booze or go brawling, Brundar trains, or fights if there is an enemy who needs killing. He is too dangerous to indulge in what other dudes do to relieve stress.”
Carol nodded. “Is it safe for you to go in there?”
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to fight him. Not unless he is so far gone that he attacks me.”
“That’s what I’m worried about.”
“It hasn’t happened yet, and I’ve seen him in this state before.”
“I’ll stay here in case you need me.” She patted the handgun strapped to her thigh. “As a last resort.”
“Good idea. Aim for the knees. But only if it looks like he is about to take off my head.” Carol was an excellent shot. She wouldn’t miss.
Entering the gym, Anandur stayed near the entrance. He leaned against the wall, crossed his arms over his chest, and watched his brother.
Bare-chested and barefoot, his pale skin covered in a shine of sweat, Brundar wielded his sword with the fluid grace of a dancer, executing each series of moves flawlessly even though his arms must’ve been killing him. Anandur was well familiar with the burn that came from swinging a heavy sword for hours.
Being ambidextrous, Brundar could go on wielding it for much longer. He kept switching, letting one hand rest while using the other. His brother hadn’t been born with the ability. He’d trained until he achieved mastery with either hand.
Oblivious to Anandur’s presence, Brundar kept going until his movements began slowing, imperceptibly at first, then gradually getting more and more laborious. When he couldn’t lift his arms anymore, Brundar braced the tip of his sword on the floor, cutting a deep indent into the matting as he leaned on it.
Anandur had been waiting for that moment patiently. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.
Brundar shook his head.
“You should’ve realized by now that it’s impossible to kill invisible demons with a sword, no matter how many times you imagine taking off their ugly heads.”
Brundar nodded. “Do you have anything to say that is actually helpful, or do you just like to hear yourself talk?”
“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”
For a couple of minutes, it seemed Brundar wasn’t going to respond.
But then, looking down at where his sword cut into the matting, he said quietly, “It’s getting harder.”
“What is?”
“Living in the zone. It used to be easy.”
Brundar’s accursed zone. The place inside his head he hid in to avoid living. “Was it ever fun? That desolate emptiness you call the zone?”
For the first time since Anandur had arrived, Brundar turned and looked him in the eyes. “It’s peaceful. I need the quiet to function at my best.”
Anandur shook his head. “People, even top athletes, don’t live in the zone, Brundar, they slip into it when they need to. What you’re doing is hiding from life.”
Brundar shrugged. “It works for me.”
“Does it? Because it doesn’t look like it from where I stand. You’re a high-functioning walking dead.”
Yanking the sword out of the floor, Brundar walked over to where he’d left its scabbard, and sheathed it. “If that’s all, I’m going to hit the shower.”
Not today, buddy. Today you are going to talk whether you want to or not. If necessary, Anandur was going to follow the guy under the spray.
“Life is messy, and it stinks, and it hurts, but it’s also beautiful and exciting. Hiding from it to avoid the pain, you’re missing out on all its fucked-up glory. It’s worth enduring tons of crap for a few moments of wonderful.”
Brundar picked up his stuff and started walking. “Not for me.”
Anandur followed. “That’s what you’ve convinced yourself of, but it’s a lie.”
Stopping, Brundar turned around, his eyes blazing with fury. “Are you calling me a liar?”
With a smirk, Anandur crossed his arms over his chest. “What if I am?”
In the blink of an eye, the sword was out of its scabbard, with the rest of Brundar’s stuff hitting the floor. “Do you want to repeat that?”
Anandur lifted a brow. “First, drop the sword and lift your fists.” With a weapon in hand, Brundar was undefeated, but he wasn’t as good in hand to hand, for the simple reason he never trained for it.
The sword clanked to the floo
r.
With a big grin, Anandur leaned forward and enunciated, “Liar.”
CHAPTER 47: CALLIE
The first thing Shawn had done after talking to Logan was to deposit the check. It hadn’t bounced, the money went into Shawn’s account, and he immediately withdrew it. Just in case.
Good to his word, Logan had brought the papers to the next group meeting.
Shawn hadn’t been surprised that it said nothing about the group’s agenda and Logan’s plans for it. It wasn’t something that should ever go in writing. The agreement only referred to the financial side of things and appointed Shawn as the manager.
The following day, Shawn quit his job at the dealership. There was no point in giving notice, it wasn't like he needed to train a replacement. The other salespeople would snatch up his shifts like a bunch of vultures, happy to be rid of the best closer on the lot. More money for them.
No more sweating in his suit and tie on hot California days. No more smiling at old farts with limp dicks who thought a luxury car would compensate for their impotence. No more sucking up to his manager to get the best hours on the best days of the week. The only thing he would miss were the hot cunts who had often accompanied the limp dicks. Some had been more than happy to ride his stiff, thick cock behind their sugar daddies’ backs.
Whores, all in it for the money.
Now that he had time on his hands, Shawn was going to resume the search for his lying, cheating whore of an ex-wife.
The cunt hadn’t even called her father or her best friend to tell them she was leaving. He knew that for a fact since he’d had their home line and her cell phone bugged. She’d told no one. She’d gone underground and had yet to surface.
Except, there was one place he knew he would eventually find her.
The university.
There was no way she’d given up on that stupid dream of hers. Getting accepted wasn’t easy, and Callie would never throw away the chance she’d been given.
In the back of his mind, Shawn suspected that one of the reasons she’d run out on him was because he’d refused to let her pursue her silly dream. But apparently, it hadn’t been the only one. It had been the last push she needed to run away with her lover. The soon to be dead lover.