Suicide Hotline (The One Percent Book 2)

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Suicide Hotline (The One Percent Book 2) Page 8

by Tim Miller


  “Why yes. Yes you can.”

  Sneak Peek at Tim Miller’s next book

  The Country Club:

  Ladies Night

  Chapter 1

  Derek sat in the waiting room for almost an hour. It was an office in downtown Dallas. The job wasn’t an office job, however. The job was for a private security gig. He was amazed they’d granted him an interview. Since he’d gotten back from Iraq, he’d had more than a few legal problems.

  His wife had divorced him while he was deployed. During his time in the Marines he’d seen more than his share of death and carnage. Some of that came home with him. The nightmares never ended, nor did the flashbacks. Like many veterans, he sought comfort at the bottom of the bottle. After a few DUI’s and an assault charge, he was nearly unemployable.

  Originally upon discharge, he’d wanted to be a police officer, but his personal problems had quickly eliminated that possibility. Then he found this ad on Craigslist. Didn’t even have much listed. It simply said a private company in need of security. Discretion a must. He’d gone to the website, filled out the application, and here he was.

  Finally, the door opened and a tall Latina woman stepped inside. She was wearing a pair of black slacks and a blazer. Her long black hair hung down over her shoulders as she sat behind her desk.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Davis. I looked over your resume. Pretty impressive.”

  “Thank you umm…Miss….”

  “Gonzalez. Camila Gonzalez.”

  “Thank you Miss Gonzalez.”

  “Let me tell you about our organization,” she continued. “It’s not located here. It’s a private facility. Very exclusive, and our members are women only. What goes on in there is incredibly private.”

  Derek’s first thought was this was some kind of kinky sex club. He supposed that wouldn’t be the worst thing. He didn’t really care. A job was a job.

  “There are harsh consequences for breaking any confidentiality agreement. But I reviewed your resume and your record. It sounds like you’ve run out of places to go. Am I right?”

  The question caught him off guard. What all did she find out?

  “Yeah. In a way. I’ve had some troubles.”

  “But you’ve been sober for almost a year. Correct?”

  What the fuck?

  “Um yes. Is that a normal question?”

  “It is for us. Look, Mr. Davis. I’m not going to bullshit you. This is a tough job. These women are very wealthy and powerful and when they ask for something, it needs to be done yesterday. Do you understand?”

  “Yeah. Totally.” Great, a bunch of rich chicks on power trips. Then again, it sounds like glorified babysitting.

  “Ok. Good. The job pays $100,000 a year, starting out, plus bonuses. Any breach of confidentiality or poor performance and there are harsh consequences.”

  “Um. Ok wow. That’s a lot.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “No. Not at all. I just. Wow. Yeah it’s great.”

  “Good. Can you start tonight? We’re rather short staffed.”

  “Yeah. Of course.”

  “Good. You’ll come back here and ring the buzzer downstairs. A shuttle will pick you up and take you to the location. This will be where you report for work daily. I’m sorry, but like I said, discretion is very important. A similar club existed several years ago and they had some issues, let’s say.”

  “Ok. I get it.”

  “Good. Now I assume in Iraq you saw some pretty awful things?”

  God, this lady doesn’t pull any punches.

  “Yeah. I saw some really bad stuff. Really bad.”

  “Ok. Then nothing you see here should shock you.”

  “Like what?”

  “You’ll see, tonight. Would you like the job?”

  “I guess so. I mean can you tell me more of what I’ll be doing?”

  “I’m afraid not. You’ll learn on the job. You won’t make this kind of money anywhere else. That is, if anyone will even talk to you.”

  “Right. Yes. I’ll take it.”

  “Good. Be here at 7 p.m. Suit and tie.” She stood and shook his hand, then stepped out of the office. Derek left, grabbed something to eat, and returned a few hours later as he’d been instructed. Once he rang the buzzer, a dark-colored van pulled up. He climbed in the back where there were four other men in suits.

  “So you guys security too?” Derek asked. No one answered, they all looked at each other. The driver was an older black man who looked up at them in the rearview mirror.

  “Hey new guy! Shut the fuck up!”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “No talking! That’s the rules! Now shut up!” the man yelled.

  Derek looked at the others, who shrugged. An hour later, they pulled through an iron gate into a large compound. The area was surrounded by eight-foot concrete walls. The van came to a stop as the driver put it in park.

  “All right. Everyone out! Miss Camila is waiting on you guys!” he yelled. Derek climbed out along with the others, and they filed into the front door. Miss Gonzalez was inside, this time wearing a black sequined gown. There were other women standing around. By the way they were dressed, Derek thought he’d arrived at the Oscars.

  “Good evening, gentlemen. Glad you all could make it. Derek. You come with me. The rest of you know your posts. Get in position. Our first guests will be arriving shortly.”

  She turned and walked down a long hallway. Derek followed along as a lovely blonde walked past them.

  “Good evening, Melissa, is everything ready?” Camila asked.

  “It is. Everyone is in place.”

  “Good. This is Derek. He’s one of our new security team.”

  “Nice to meet you!” Melissa held out her hand. Derek shook it gently and continued following Camila. They went through a set of double doors and through what looked like a warehouse. This part of the building wasn’t as clean and fancy as the other parts of the house. It was dark and filthy. They reached another set of doors where Camila dug into her purse and took out a set of keys. She opened the next door and into a room where Derek froze before going in.

  “What’s wrong?” Camila asked.

  “This? What the hell is this?”

  Against the wall was a group of large dog cages with several men and women locked inside each one. Each cage had a tag with a number on it.

  “This is your job. I told you this was a private club and you’re being paid quite well. On the wall is a cattle prod in case any of them gives you a problem. You check the number on each tag and take that asset to the corresponding room. If they give you shit, zap them with the cattle prod. There are zip ties in the drawer. Make sure they are secure before taking them out.”

  “For what? Why? Is this some weird kink club or something?”

  “No, honey. This is the Country Club, where every night is ladies’ night.”

  About the Author

  Tim began writing at a very young age. Even in grade school he'd sit around with his notebook, writing stories for himself and his friends.

  As an adult, Tim's writings have evolved into darker realms. He released his first horror novel, "The Hand of God" in 2011. Since then his books have become progressively more violent and gory. With the release of "Family Night" in 2013, Tim had moved into the world of extreme horror where he continues to push the boundaries of human suffering.

  Tim is now an international best seller as well. His book, "Hell, Texas" has recently ranked high on Amazon sales charts since its release in Germany under German publisher, Festa-Verlag.

  Tim is very active on social media and loves interacting with his readers. You can find him at his website at http://timmiller.org

  Follow Tim Miller's Amazon Author Page and be notified of each new release!

  Also by Tim Miller

  Hell, Texas

  Return to Hell Texas

  Psychoville

  Spankenstein

  Dollhouse

  Curse of th
e Gut Ripper

  Family Night

  My Brother’s Keeper

  Fertile Fields

 

 

 


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