by N Gray
“Thanks, Cheryl. Go spend time with your grandkids.” I smiled down at her.
She smiled back, and her entire face lit up.
As Cheryl left, Gregory arrived in his black Rover.
Scowling at the car, I left the door open. I went to the kitchen, removed the tray from the oven and placed it on the table. I grabbed the bottle of wine out the fridge and set it on the table. It had taken me an hour to calm down after my conversation with Gregory this morning, and now, when I saw him, my anger flared to life.
“Hey,” Gregory said cautiously as he closed the front door.
“Hey, Gregory,” I said without glancing at him. I moved the knife and fork straight beside the plate, making sure they aligned perfectly. I folded the napkin, ensuring each corner met, and folded it again and placed it beside the fork. “Glad you could make it, buddy. Why is it we haven’t met for lunch in over a month? Usually your assistant arranges it for us.”
“Uh …” he stammered. It was becoming a habit with him today. He was always the confident type, always sure of himself, and gave immediate answers. Now he seemed like a deer in headlights. “I guess I forgot to tell her to do it.”
“Well, she needs to schedule a monthly lunch.” I glared at him.
He nodded quickly. “Okay, whatever you need, Travis. Anything at all, you let me know.”
“Sit.” I commanded as I fetched the salad and placed it alongside the tray with our steaks.
“It looks delicious. I see Cheryl has gone home.”
“We have important business to discuss, and we can’t do that if other people are around.”
Gregory flinched under my stare and quickly sat with his hands in his lap.
I cocked my head and considered him for a moment.
Sweat pebbled his forehead. He was still wearing his jacket, and it was warm inside.
“Take off your jacket.”
He hesitated, pushed back his chair, stood and slowly removed his jacket. He kept his back to me as he folded it and placed it on the chair beside him. When he turned around, his shirt had sweat stains near the fold of his stomach and under his armpits.
I walked around the table and grabbed his jacket.
“What are you doing?” He tried to snatch the jacket from my hands.
“What’s inside, Gregory?” I felt the outer pockets then inside. Beneath my touch, I felt something rectangular and plastic. I removed it, revealing a digital voice recorder, and it was on. Throwing his jacket on the floor, I walked around the table again, gently slapping the device against my palm.
“They made me do it. I promise, it wasn’t my idea.” Gregory broke down, removed his tie and undid the top two buttons of his shirt. “Jesus, it’s hot in here.” He loosened his cufflinks and rolled his sleeves to his elbows. “Stop the recording, Travis. It’s no use.” He closed his eyes and sat back.
Guilty men did that when they were finally caught; they relaxed. They didn’t have to keep pretending they were something they were not. And I had just caught Gregory with his pants down and his dick out. Now he didn’t care anymore.
He sighed audibly.
“Talk!”
“They wanted me to get you to say on record that you don’t want us to offer them the full package, that we intentionally kept them in the dark with the program’s potential. With that evidence, they would get court orders and have you forcibly removed from your company. It was either that or they would push for jail time with a shopping list of legal accusations, real or not.” He poured wine into his glass and downed it then slumped against the chair again, his cheeks flushed.
“Okay.” I dished a steak onto his plate and one onto mine.
The lines between Gregory’s eyes deepened.
I ignored him; I dished salad onto his plate then onto mine. I filled his wine glass again then mine. I filled my mouth with the cool liquor and sat down.
“Okay?” He swallowed hard. “Is that all you’re going to say? Okay?”
“What do you want me to say, Gregory?” I asked in a cold monotone that made my arms pebble. “Do you want me angry? Do you want me to fight with you?” I raised my voice. “Do you want me to hit you?”
“No!” he yelled, shook his head and glanced at his hands. “No, Travis, please. I don’t want you angry, please—”
“Please?” I roared. “Gregory, I’m disappointed. You’ve brought the vultures right to my doorstep. I can never trust you again. Do you understand the full extent of your actions?”
His eyes glistened in the light.
I wanted him gone, out of my life forever. I’d had enough. “This is your last month with the company. Tell them you couldn’t get what they needed and will be retiring.”
“Okay.” He nodded quickly and typed on his cellphone. He was busy with his resignation letter already. Good boy.
“You’re very agreeable today, Gregory.”
“It’s my fault, all of it. I don’t deserve to run your company anymore. I accept full responsibility. And I’ll do whatever you need me to do so they back off. And I’m tired. I need a long break.”
“Good, you’ll exit the company in order for them not to come for me again.” I arched an eyebrow. “Now eat.” I grabbed my knife and fork and sliced through the steak like it was butter, red juice oozing out. Cheryl knew how to make the best steaks.
Chapter Eight
We ate lunch and finished two bottles of wine. Gregory helped clear the table and packed the dishwasher for me. It was the first time he was hanging around after lunch, like he didn’t want to return to the office.
“What will happen when you go back?” I asked with my back against the cupboard, holding my glass of wine.
His eyes flittered to the left then upward, and he pursed his lips. “They’re waiting for me at the office. They’ll want to listen to the recording the moment I get back. I don’t know what they’ll do when I get there empty handed. I’m busy thinking up things I can say.” He leaned against the cupboard with his arms folded.
“When we’re done here, we can go together.” I downed my wine and placed the glass in the dishwasher’s top row. I knew who the people were and from which organization they came from. I knew them all too well and had a contingency plan in place—just in case.
“You would? I mean, you haven’t been to the office in a while. Do you even remember what it looks like?” He smirked, trying to make light of the situation even though he was watching me with suspicious eyes.
“I remember, Gregory,” I said and headed toward my office.
What I didn’t say was I had visited the office at least once a week to check how things were running. The best way to know what really went on was to be invisible; I gained entry with my second key card and walked around disguised and unrecognizable, preventing people from frantically trying to make everything perfect for me. I despised the facade of a well-run company; nothing was perfect, ever, but I always had plans in place in case of a catastrophe.
I unlocked a cupboard on the far side of the office and flicked on the switch. Twenty small screens blinked to life. The top row of five screens recorded the admin teams who handled phone calls and finance. The second row of five screens showed the programmers hard at perfecting my code. The third row showed the various conference facilities where meetings were held. And the last row recorded the offices of all those in top positions, including Gregory’s office where four gentlemen hovered around his small conference table. These were the same guys who always gave me trouble no matter what I did, but I held classified information on all four; they were rolling in their own filth. One liked young girls, one liked young boys, and the other two dabbled in drugs and ladies of the night. They were the classic white-collar executive who thought they could rule the world. But little did they know I ruled their world. And I would use what I had to ensure I kept my company from their grubby hands, and they left me alone. Whoever replaced them would leave me and my company alone and would accept the status quo.
But first, I had to handle Gregory. He knew too much and was a thorn in my side.
“Holy fuck,” Gregory said behind me.
I thumbed the handle in my right hand. The feel of the leather at my fingertips was soothing. My heartbeat steadied, and I exhaled.
“What the fuck, Travis? What is all this? Are your spying on me? Spying on all of us?” He stared at the monitors with an open mouth and saucer eyes.
“It is my company, Gregory.” I arched an eyebrow. “And, before you say it, I know you brought in your brilliance and helped develop the program to its current version. But we have a team of developers now who do everything I tell them to do—”
“It was you who ordered Theo to make those changes.”
I nodded.
“Why are you showing me this, Travis?” His voice trembled as did his body. His eyes darted from me to the screens behind me then back to me. Realization registered in his blue eyes. He nervously ran his fingers through his blond hair as he considered his next move. Or my move.
“I wanted to show you I’m the type of person you don’t fuck over, not even once. Yet, Gregory, I have given you so many chances it’s making me physically sick. What’s sad is you keep making these same fucking mistakes, the silly life choices that put you exactly where you are standing right now. In front of me,” I said sinisterly.
He swallowed; his throat moved up and down as he nervously stepped backward.
As he took another step back, I lunged at him with my hunting knife and stabbed his side, driving the blade into an organ. Blood oozed from the wound like a pulsing warm fountain over my fingers. With my free hand, I grabbed his shoulder to hold him in place while I slowly twisted the blade to my left then to my right.
Gah sounds came from Gregory as I slowly dropped his body to the floor. Blood and spittle dripped from his mouth.
“Shh, everything will be all right, Gregory. I’ll take care of you, then I’ll run my company from now on. Nod if you understand me.”
He nodded, his eyes wide with fear.
I pulled the blade from his side with a sucking sound and grabbed the plastic sheet out the cupboard. I opened the sheet and spread it on the carpet beside Gregory while he watched in horror. I grabbed under his armpits and pulled him onto the sheet before he bled all over my carpet. There was one spot, but I could get that out easily enough.
“Why?” he mumbled, blood dribbling from one side of his mouth.
“You’re a disappointment, Gregory. We’ve known one another for years, and I’ve given you so many opportunities. Yet you keep fucking with me. And trying to take over my company was just the last straw.” I tsk-ed him. “And, well, I can’t have someone I don’t trust running it. Even if you left or retired, they’d continue to go through you to get to me. This way, with you permanently gone, everything must go through me. I suspect your ex-wife would be glad to know you’ve run off with your girlfriend and left her with a large sum of money, concluding your divorce.” I winked darkly and grinned slyly.
He didn’t move or try to get away as his blood pooled beneath his body.
I swapped the blade with my left hand and shoved it into his other side—that slow twisting motion to the left then right as I punctured organs and his warm blood pumped over my hand. I yanked out the hunting knife, threw it into the metal bowl in my cupboard, wiped my bloody hands clean with wet wipes, then retrieved the small blowtorch.
Gregory stared with a shocked expression; I had never seen so much white in a person’s eyes before. He was truly petrified. I towered over his body, surveying him from head to toe. I chuckled when the front of his pants blossomed with urine. Tears streaked his face as he tried in vain to wipe them away.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled and choked on his bloody spittle. “Take me to the hospital please. I won’t let you down again. Please don’t hurt me.”
I shook my head. “Again, with the please. Sorry, but I’ve had enough of you. Not now, not again, not ever. It’s over. It’s not me, it really is you.” An evil smile I reserved for scum splashed across my face.
Crouching, I switched on the small cooking utensil, and the flame burst through the tiny hole.
“No, no, no, no. Please don’t.” He raised his hands in front of his face for protection.
“That’s what everybody says when they know it’s the end for them, Gregory, but I’m done giving second chances.”
His gaze moved from the blowtorch in my hand to something behind me, and he gasped.
I turned to see what he was staring at and nodded. “Yes, Gregory, not even Mia was given a second chance, and I loved her.”
With that being my last words to him, I burnt him alive.
Chapter Nine
Joe sat between Aika and me. He watched the restaurant with hawk eyes, not wanting to miss a thing. The streets were empty, with only a handful of passersby. The six of us sat in various spots in the park and surveyed the dark area.
The evening air was cool against my sticky skin, and I was sure everyone felt the same as me—hearts thumping in our chests, damp hands, anxiety and excitement filling our blood. It was a rush like no other.
Aika pressed the inside of her palms, while Joe kept running his fingers through his raven hair. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Dafne bite a manicured fingernail. Damian stood with his hands in his pockets even though his copper hair with grey streaks kept going into his eyes, and Neal kept rubbing his shaved head or pressing down his red mustache.
The two men who had bullied Jacob, Joe’s twin brother, sat across the street from us, drinking coffee. They laughed, spoke, and fist bumped each other as they gave the waitress a hard time. The poor woman was near her manager, crying. I couldn’t lipread, but whatever they had said to her was definitely mean and uncalled for.
“I can’t wait to fucking kill them.” Joe stared daggers at the two men across the street, determination stamped all over his face.
Luckily, we were the only ones in the park, otherwise someone would’ve heard him.
“I mean, look at them. They just made the waitress cry. And, for what? So they could pat each other on their backs? Yeah, we made the right decision doing this.” Joe glanced over his shoulder at the others who were sitting on the bench behind us and to the side. “Is everyone ready?”
Everyone knew not to speak; instead, they gave him thumbs up.
Before arriving at the park, I explained a few things each of them was not to do—the basic skills about not getting caught. I’d done this for years, and nobody had even considered me a suspect. Yet.
Everyone had their task. No talking or asking questions until we were out of the city. We would dump their bodies in various places around the city to avoid suspicion and create confusion. Everybody had to have their weapon of choice, whether it was a gun, knife, rope—whatever. But each had to do something to a victim. That way everyone was guilty, and nobody could point fingers. We were all in this together. No backing out.
Joe flinched on the bench, his elbow hitting my arm.
I turned to see what had caused his sudden movement and noticed the two men had thrown money on the counter and were walking toward the exit. I glanced at the team—the Horsemen—and nodded once, and they stood and approached. Everybody had their part to play, and it was time.
I followed the men to the red sports car.
Aika was on the other side and spoke to them in her sultry and seductive tone. “Hey boys.” She smiled sweetly, her small slanted blue eyes blinking rapidly. Her father was Caucasian and her mother Japanese; she was blessed with both genes and was beautifully exotic.
Both men stared at her small perky breasts, especially since she was showing more skin than usual.
I came up behind the larger of the two, the rag in my hand full of chloroform. With one arm around his torso while the rag covered his nose and mouth, he silently fell into my arms.
His friend still gawked at Aika, making flirty chitchat, until she whipped out her own rag and jumped on him.
She wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed her rag-covered hand to his face until he fell to the ground, landing on his ass and hitting his head against the car door. It looked like she was kissing him, but her face was to the other side, so she didn’t fall asleep herself.
The guy I held resembled someone who had drank too much and had fallen asleep on the sidewalk. We surveyed the area, ensuring it was devoid of people.
Joe opened the sports car’s doors while Neal pulled up with the van. He helped me carry the big fellow inside, then we helped Aika with her victim.
Damian hogtied the men and pulled a black bag over each of their heads.
I climbed into the van’s driver seat and pulled away.
Joe and Aika were in the sports car, while everyone else drove with me.
I opened the window for fresh air, glanced at Neal and smiled. “Woo-hoo!” I slapped the steering wheel as we pulled onto the freeway. We would first go to where I’d left Nails. I wanted to scare the two men when they saw his body, then we would dump their bodies elsewhere. “What a rush!”
Neal laughed, his cheeks rosy and forehead shiny.
“How are you feeling?” I glanced in his direction.
“Good!” He smacked the dashboard. “I feel fucking awesome. I didn’t think I would feel this way, but I do. Is that wrong?”
“Nah, man, it’s all good. What about the rest of you?” I glanced over my shoulder.
Both Damian and Dafne stared at me with their best blank faces. They were tough characters, but I knew they enjoyed what we were doing—what they were about to do.
“Are you guys okay?” I asked again. In the rearview mirror, I saw Dafne glance at Damian, sharing a knowing look. I smiled inwardly.
“Yeah,” Dafne said. “We good, Travis. How long do you think it’ll take?”
“Don’t know, Dafne, but we should get to our rendezvous in about forty minutes. Then another hour for some fun.”
“Okay,” Damian said. “Okay.”
Somehow, I knew they were getting used to the idea of what we were about to do. I knew Aika and Joe were on board, but these three needed a little coaxing.