"Fuck!" The thugs screamed. "You broke my good wrist! What kind of a monster are you?"Avery's hatred for him had set an untamed monster loose. When pushed against a hard surface, holding back would be a miracle."A monster on the prowl, thirsty for blood."Michael sent another knuckle-duster punch across his face, tearing both flesh and bone. His hands and singlet were stained in blood. Sprinkles of blood dotted his face. Two, out of the thugs, were dead, ready for cremation.They burn the bodies of their dead prisoners to erase evidences that might give them away. For five years, they have been able to run a clean operation, devoid of mistakes. Zephyr took care of the burning process, turning all evidence to ash.However, a new police detective just arrived in town. Rumours had it that he was diligent in his job, leaving no stone unturned. The astute rookie posed a great threat to the team. A minor mistake could expose their clandestine operations and permanently shut them down.For
"You said that to him?!" Beatrice exclaimed, holding a rolling pin. "Oh girl, that's not a way to talk to someone who has been so kind to you." Avery leaned against the kitchen island. She and Beatrice were in aprons, making brown bread and oyster soup. Her mother had requested she brought her favorite to her when next she came visiting. As fate would have it, she found a bag of oysters in the deep freezer, Beatrice had bought out of necessity. Coincidentally, she knew someone who loved the same food. She recalled their days in his office when they enjoyed relative peace. He fought her over ownership of her food, and gobbled them, smacking his lips...and her ass. Her countenance fell as she chopped the rosemary leaves. Her eyes were heavy from lack of sleep. She couldn't sleep a wink all night. It was cold and empty within empty- the same Michael she almost went rogue for. Funny how, ironically, she pushed him out of her room like he meant nothing to her. While thinking of how
Michael summoned the rest of the team to the basement. The meeting was impromptu, but a potential threat had invaded his space, and he couldn't sit back and watch his city burn to the ground. After what the thug told him and Zephyr, standing by would be disastrous. "I sincerely hope you didn't pull me out of work to plan a surprise party. I had to bribe Craig with my lunch to cover up for me again." Pedro feigned annoyance, taking the chair behind the line of computers. He never jokes with his lunch, especially the ones made by Beatrice. Michael learned that the hard way. "Who am I tracking?" "You're not tracking anybody," Michael sighed, peeling an apple with a switch knife. Belinda stood beside the monitors, imitating a no nonsense shield agent. Michael gave her a curt nod to acknowledge her presence. "At least not yet." "Where's Zephyr," Belinda asked. "Is he on an official assignment?" Michael sliced through the apple and popped a quarter into his mouth. "Kinda. Remember t
"I'm not sure he's coming," Avery sighed, her hopes sinking to the bottom of the ocean. "He's still mad at me."Avery was worried now. Three hours had passed, yet, Michael's number was unreachable. She dialed his phone the umpteenth time, tapping her foot against the floor. Switched off...again.'Ahhh!' she screamed internally. At a point, she thought of going to the office. Most people occupy themselves with work to manage stress and trauma. She caused him both; she was to blame for everything."He'll come around," Beatrice assured. They finished cooking two hours ago. After packing up her mother's ration in a stainless food flask, she stuffed a bigger flask with Michael's portion portion. Avery refused to taste the meal until she saw or heard from Michael. She finally managed to take a bite as Beatrice would not let her step out of the house on an empty stomach. "He's probably caught up in a meeting. Relax and keep a positive mind." Avery and Beatrice sat in the living room, wait
Shawn opened the mini refrigerator and took out a bottle for Aubrey, a new product, home to Cleveland. Avery decided she'd not accept the wine if he offered her a glass. She could not trust someone who threatened to harm a pregnant woman and her unborn child. He pressed his thumb on the glove compartment and it slid inward, revealing four sets of wine glasses. Taking out two glasses, he filled them halfway and presented a glass to Avery. Avery shook her head, withdrawing farther from him. She'd be damned to take the cup.When he saw Avery would not accept the drink, he took a sip from both cups and swallowed. "If I wanted to hurt you, I'd do it to your face," he shrugged. "So, are you gonna take the drink or not?""No, thanks." Avery remained adamant. "I'm good.""Suit yourself." Shawn mumbled. He emptied her glass in one full swig, gulping noisily. "Hmmm. An exquisite taste from the vines of Empires own winery. I misjudged the drink by the bottle," he raised the wine bottle to his
"Please, please, I'm telling the truth," his plea was interrupted by a squelching punch across his battered face. Tied to a rolling chair, he tumbled to the cold floor, splodged in his own blood. "Help!" he yelled. "Somebody help!" Sighing, Michael lifted the wounded man from the ground and righted him in his former position under the dim yellow light in the dungeon. He squatted beside him, "It's no use crying, baby. We're twenty miles away from the City. You either tell me what you know, or daddy will be late for his daughter's birthday." Shell-shocked, he lifted his head to meet Michael's smirk. Blood trickled down his nostrils and the side of his face to his white dress shirt browned and dyed in red by contact. His left eyes were swollen and completely covered with the other imbound on the same route. Aside suffering a broken lip, he'd have to wear dental implants for the rest of his life. "I dare you to touch my daughter," he snarled, shooting Michael darts with his gaze. His
The more the bristle wind blew her raven hair into her face, the harder it became to get her eyes off him. It happened all too fast. Her prince charming, the major character in her wet dreams, soaking her panties and beddings every blessed night. No, every fucking night. It's fucked up, so was the feeling. Michael King, billionaire charmer and CEO of Kings Fashion House has popped the question, and she said yes. Who wouldn't?! He'd asked her to choose anywhere in the city for their dinner date, and she remembered this iconic alfresco restaurant she'd always wanted to try. He sat across the table, slicing through a smoked lamp. In a denim jacket and black pants, all he needed was a cowboy hat to look a rancher. 'He's so hot!' she thought, moaning on the crushed steamed mussels in her mouth, the aromatic flavors bursting on her palate. 'I bet he tastes better than the mussels and crab cakes.' Taut jawline, carved brows and massive corded hands that could sweep her off her feet in on
Avery Avery swore it was her alarm this time. She'd woken up a bit later than the expected time. "Taxi! Taxi!" She shouted, waving her hand furiously above her head. Instead, they zoomed past her like she was a ghost. "Why today of all days?!" Her interview at King's Fashion House was at stake. It was bad enough that she overslept. Her alarm broke, and she'd forgotten to fix it before going to bed the previous night. The urge to break down in tears seized her, but she had to be strong. With her old black purse slung across her shoulder, she clutched a big brown manila folder to her stomach. An aggregate of ill-tempered commuters lined the same sidewalk she stood, trimming her chances of meeting up with the interview. Time was ticking fast, and in Empire City, it ticked faster. Glancing over her wristwatch, Avery knew she could kiss the hope of finding a job goodbye. Her mother had been in a vegetative state for three years in Lighthouse Hospital after suffering brain damage
Shawn opened the mini refrigerator and took out a bottle for Aubrey, a new product, home to Cleveland. Avery decided she'd not accept the wine if he offered her a glass. She could not trust someone who threatened to harm a pregnant woman and her unborn child. He pressed his thumb on the glove compartment and it slid inward, revealing four sets of wine glasses. Taking out two glasses, he filled them halfway and presented a glass to Avery. Avery shook her head, withdrawing farther from him. She'd be damned to take the cup.When he saw Avery would not accept the drink, he took a sip from both cups and swallowed. "If I wanted to hurt you, I'd do it to your face," he shrugged. "So, are you gonna take the drink or not?""No, thanks." Avery remained adamant. "I'm good.""Suit yourself." Shawn mumbled. He emptied her glass in one full swig, gulping noisily. "Hmmm. An exquisite taste from the vines of Empires own winery. I misjudged the drink by the bottle," he raised the wine bottle to his
"I'm not sure he's coming," Avery sighed, her hopes sinking to the bottom of the ocean. "He's still mad at me."Avery was worried now. Three hours had passed, yet, Michael's number was unreachable. She dialed his phone the umpteenth time, tapping her foot against the floor. Switched off...again.'Ahhh!' she screamed internally. At a point, she thought of going to the office. Most people occupy themselves with work to manage stress and trauma. She caused him both; she was to blame for everything."He'll come around," Beatrice assured. They finished cooking two hours ago. After packing up her mother's ration in a stainless food flask, she stuffed a bigger flask with Michael's portion portion. Avery refused to taste the meal until she saw or heard from Michael. She finally managed to take a bite as Beatrice would not let her step out of the house on an empty stomach. "He's probably caught up in a meeting. Relax and keep a positive mind." Avery and Beatrice sat in the living room, wait
Michael summoned the rest of the team to the basement. The meeting was impromptu, but a potential threat had invaded his space, and he couldn't sit back and watch his city burn to the ground. After what the thug told him and Zephyr, standing by would be disastrous. "I sincerely hope you didn't pull me out of work to plan a surprise party. I had to bribe Craig with my lunch to cover up for me again." Pedro feigned annoyance, taking the chair behind the line of computers. He never jokes with his lunch, especially the ones made by Beatrice. Michael learned that the hard way. "Who am I tracking?" "You're not tracking anybody," Michael sighed, peeling an apple with a switch knife. Belinda stood beside the monitors, imitating a no nonsense shield agent. Michael gave her a curt nod to acknowledge her presence. "At least not yet." "Where's Zephyr," Belinda asked. "Is he on an official assignment?" Michael sliced through the apple and popped a quarter into his mouth. "Kinda. Remember t
"You said that to him?!" Beatrice exclaimed, holding a rolling pin. "Oh girl, that's not a way to talk to someone who has been so kind to you." Avery leaned against the kitchen island. She and Beatrice were in aprons, making brown bread and oyster soup. Her mother had requested she brought her favorite to her when next she came visiting. As fate would have it, she found a bag of oysters in the deep freezer, Beatrice had bought out of necessity. Coincidentally, she knew someone who loved the same food. She recalled their days in his office when they enjoyed relative peace. He fought her over ownership of her food, and gobbled them, smacking his lips...and her ass. Her countenance fell as she chopped the rosemary leaves. Her eyes were heavy from lack of sleep. She couldn't sleep a wink all night. It was cold and empty within empty- the same Michael she almost went rogue for. Funny how, ironically, she pushed him out of her room like he meant nothing to her. While thinking of how
"Fuck!" The thugs screamed. "You broke my good wrist! What kind of a monster are you?"Avery's hatred for him had set an untamed monster loose. When pushed against a hard surface, holding back would be a miracle."A monster on the prowl, thirsty for blood."Michael sent another knuckle-duster punch across his face, tearing both flesh and bone. His hands and singlet were stained in blood. Sprinkles of blood dotted his face. Two, out of the thugs, were dead, ready for cremation.They burn the bodies of their dead prisoners to erase evidences that might give them away. For five years, they have been able to run a clean operation, devoid of mistakes. Zephyr took care of the burning process, turning all evidence to ash.However, a new police detective just arrived in town. Rumours had it that he was diligent in his job, leaving no stone unturned. The astute rookie posed a great threat to the team. A minor mistake could expose their clandestine operations and permanently shut them down.For
Michael and patience cannot be put in the same sentence. As the rain torrented, firing bullets of water against the windows, he grew restive. Dr Tancredi left him and Dianne in the ward to attend to another patient. He paced the floor, praying fervently for the rain to stop. He didn't remember when he prayed last. Sister Martha told them in the orphanage that no matter how far a person is from God, God is never far from them. All it takes is a genuine call to Him, and he'd answer. Facing the window, he strung few words he recalled from Sister Martha's prayers during devotion. He didn't ask for much. He asked that Avery be safe, and that the rain hold its peace, because it was stopping him from getting to Avery. Ever since he confirmed Dianne's health status, he had been itching to leave the hospital. Frustrated, he brought out his phone from his pocket. If he expected God to overlook his imperfections, he had it coming. He gave up waiting for a miracle and chose to dial Avery's
Eight hours ago...Michael stepped out of the Italian restaurant. Above him was a bed of heavy grey clouds, floating with a promise of a heavy downpour. Taking in a long pull of the fresh air, he sauntered to his bobber. The air was cooler, compared to the compressed one inside the restaurant. The restaurant would get a one star review from him. They were misinformed that they were coming to a brothel. Though, Michael would never pass off a good opportunity to release some fluid, Clara rubbed off on him the wrong way. Bad customer service. Repulsive attendant behavior. Dirty party tricks... It officially marked the end of his visit to the restaurant.Dismissing his anger, he returned to the distress at hand."How do I get in undetected?" The mission may appear simple to an ignorant spectator- confirm Dianne is safe. What skipped their mind was that there was neither a simple or difficult mission. Anything could go wrong at any fucking time, which meant roughly fifteen year minimum
"Nooo!" Avery jerked with a start, covered in a reservoir of sweat. The top of her plain tee was soaking wet, despite the cool weather. It was raining cats and dogs, the stone drops pelting down in torrents. It took her a while to recall where she was. Lighthouse Hospital... the Italian restaurant... Pedro... Nicki and Shawn... Pedro's house. She was sleeping in the guest room, until a bloody nightmare ruined her sleep, scaring the shit out of her."Michael!" Her chest heaved, rising and falling at a fast pace. It was pitch black outside. Thunder clapped, ripping through the rain drops followed by a sheet of lighting highlighting the naked street. Taking her mind away from the rain, she spotted the bedside clock on the nightstand, ticking rhythmically. 2. a. m.The first thing that came to her mind was to call Michael. Her hands and lips trembled, like a junkie needing a fix. She rolled the quilt aside and moved to the edge of the bed, turning on the lampshade to find her bearing
Pedro's house is what you would describe as simple and cozy. Surrounded by a white picket fence and a garden on both sides of the walkway, the bungalow resembled a humble abode curled out from the countryside. Light poured from the porch, illuminating the step and the door. Being a gentleman, Pedro opened the door and ushered her into his house."Babe, are you home?" Pedro called from the foyer, as he pulled his shoes, dragging his suitcase with him. Avery got rid of her sneakers and followed Pedro into a warm living room filled the aroma of curry and fried chicken. A glass center table stood in the middle of the main area, surrounded by a collection of black leather cushions. The TV was on; but not too loud. The host was talking about some natural disaster happening in the Middle East. "I'm in the kitchen!" That would be Pedro's wife."Babe, meet Avery, Michael's..." Pedro zoned out, unsure of the right term to describe her and Michael's relationship."Secretary," she waved at the