There are two kinds of people I despise most in this world. One, lying bastards. Two, criminals. By law, I'm a criminal, too—but that's the difference between me and the rest. They break the law to please their egos; I break it to fix it.
"What do you want from me?"
Senator Ethan Vynx. It's not just about the barrels of hard drugs found stashed in his private warehouse down by Baltimore's port. Something about this case intrigued me enough to handle him personally—and clearly, I made the right call.
"You don't know who you're dealing with."
A grin tugs at my mouth. I'm impressed. He's still got some defiance in that wrinkled mouth of his, even with his hands trembling. Most people in his position would just shut the fuck up, and that's why I'm so interested. I didn't tie him up, that'll be rude to an old man nearing sixty. He's already stressed out and might have a cardiac arrest if I delay his death any longer.
I haven't moved from where I've been standing for the past five minutes and he's frustrated, I am too since I didn't come here to hear his heart rate slow down. "Keesha." I tap the earpiece in my ear.
The crackling sound of her gum punctuates the silence on the other end. "Wait… alright, I'm in. Just need the pin to verify the transaction."
I lean back, watching Vynx like a specimen under glass. His heart's pounding, his skin flushed. "Two minutes," I assure Keesha.
"The pin." I sit down opposite him, laying the gun on the table between us.
My team and I don't just send the corrupt to God—that would be a waste. We drain every dollar from their dirty accounts, funnel ninety-seven-percent of it to the needy and reinvest the rest in my the unKnown.
His face reddens at the sight of the gun, and he swallows hard. "I'm not saying anything."
"I wasn't asking." My fingers idly spin the gun on the table, and his eyes follow it like it's a snake about to strike.
"How much do you want?" he offers, desperation leaking into his voice.
I laugh. He tryna negotiate with me. If I wanted the cash I wouldn't have burned down his drug den—that shit was worth two-hundred-mil.
"Press that button, and you'll be the soil's newest friend," I say, watching his hand twitch beside the emergency button on the wall.
He goes stiff, then clenches his fist before setting it down on the desk again.
His face is now glistening with sweat, despite the AC cranked up to the max. "Five, nine, one, three," he finally chokes out, looking utterly defeated. "Please… just let me go."
One minute and twelve seconds. That wasn't so hard now. "Got it," Keesha confirms on the other end.
I slide the gun to him, and his eyes widen as he stares down at it. "We gon' play a game," I say, tilting my head, a smile curling on my lips.
"Ky, we got what we need. Do what you gotta do and get the fuck outta there," Keesha barks in my earpiece. She's lucky I haven't thought of silencing her. I remove the earpiece and slip it into my pocket.
It's time for a game.
"I gave you everything, Please, just let me live." he chokes out, glancing between me and the gun.
Poor thing. I let out a mockingly sad sigh. "Why you acting like I'm the villain?" I ask, my voice soft, almost broken. He's been at this for twenty years without a hint of remorse. Besides, I'm not the one deciding his fate.
Tears begin to pool in his eyes, his breath shallow and unsteady. "Who… who are you?"
I raise an eyebrow. Unexpected question for a dying man, but since he'll be dead soon, no harm in telling him. "Ky."
The blood drains from his face, and his eyes bulge, his whole body going rigid. "You're Ky?"
I throw my head back, laughing. "Three years and I'm still on y'all lips. Man, I thought I'd be history by now." The laugh fades, but a smile lingers.
"You're supposed to be dead," he mutters, disbelief etched into his face.
"Tom, right?"
"What?"
My fingers tap rhythmically on the desk. "The guy you'll sent to poison me in jail. His name was Tom." I chuckle, remembering his clumsy attempt to slip something into my drink, thinking I wasn't looking.
Vynx's eyes widen, and I continue, "Ever wonder why he didn't make it back? He was good, though."
They found Tom's body in the jail courtyard, listed as suicide. It would have been a shame to waste the drink he tried to spike.
If Vynx was ever recorded searching for God, it would be now. He looks like he's reciting some silent chants for some last-minute salvation. "You're going to kill me, aren't you?" He exhales, shoulders slumping in defeat.
I run a hand through my locs. "Is that what you think of me? A killer?" I shake my head, clicking my tongue.
"Don't play pretend. I know who you are."
I tilt my head, laughing softly, pulling in a breath before letting it out. "Think you're stalling till the cops show?" I saw him press the hidden button. I let him.
His face pales as I stand, moving behind him, his eyes tracking my every step. "We've got two minutes till they get here," I murmur, squeezing his shoulders. "Pick up the gun."
He stares, stunned. "I… please…" he stammers, shaking his head.
"It's time for the game." I nudge his head toward the gun. "Your decision decides your fate."
"I don't want to play any game," he whispers, voice cracking, choked with sobs.
My grip tightens. "The gun might or might not be loaded. If you think it's loaded, pull the trigger on me. If you think it's empty, hand it over."
"If I give it to you, will you let me go?" His voice is desperate, hope flickering.
"Maybe." The purpose of the game is that you die either way.
"What if it's loaded?" he asks, his gaze fixes on the gun as if willing it to be transparent.
"Pull the trigger." I straighten the gun in front of him. "Probably wondering why I'd bring an empty gun to a death mission."
Getting in was easy; I didn't even use it. Wait… I don't even know if there are bullets in it.
His lip trembles as he glances up. "Why are you doing this?"
"I thought we'd passed the talking stage," I sigh, scanning the office. "Senator, I have someone to be with. Just pick up the damn gun, and let's get this over with."
Someone who's five-foot-eight, with brown eyes, a tiny nose, seductive lips, and long, curly black hair that would look perfect wrapped around my hand.
Hacking her apartment's CCTV IP address wasn't easy; it's a high-security building, but there's nothing money can't bypass. She left her home yesterday after I alerted her about her
faucet. Didn't even think twice before she bolted, which only makes her more attractive. Based on the tracker, she's in a penthouse under the name Janelle Alston. I knew she was the one who replied to my message—my girl ain't foolish enough to engage with her stalker.
Vynx's hand trembles as he picks up the gun. It's not like the thing's gon' bite him. I step in front of him, hands resting in my pockets.
"Thirty seconds," I say, listening to the distant wail of approaching sirens.
With shaking hands, he points the gun at me. I stand a little straighter, watching as his finger hovers over the trigger, wavering, pulling back and forth. "Ten seconds."
He turns the gun around, holding it by the barrel, and thrusts it toward me. I grin, not surprised by his lack of nerve.
"I've made my decision," he says, almost proud of himself.
I take the gun from him. "You passed," I reply, opening the chamber and clicking it back shut.
Relief floods his face. "So… so that means you're not going to kill me?"
"That's not what I said."
"But… but you—?"
"I never promised to spare you." My gaze traces the lines of fear and exhaustion on his face, a smirk creeping onto mine.
"Then why make me play that stupid game?" he snaps, looking frustrated and baffled.
I squint, glancing up thoughtfully. "Hmm… honestly? I don't know."
I usually save that game for someone with a one-percent chance of surviving. Whereas Vynx doesn't have any.
The sound of the sirens is louder now, and he mutters, "The cops are here…" He sighs, looking relieved.
"Oh no," I say, eyes wide with mock panic. "The cops are here?" My breathing picks up, and I tug at my locs in distress. "I… I can't go to jail. No, no, no. I gotta get outta here!" I gasp dramatically, then tilt my head to the side and let out a laugh.
Vynx stares at me, utterly baffled, which only fuels my laughter. "You're insane," he mutters.
I shake my head, letting out a mock sigh. "The... the cops… outside," I stutter, and then aim the gun at his forehead.
He gasps, panicking. "Wait… please, wait," he stammers, shaking his head.
"Say cheese."
"Wait—" The bullet pierces straight through the center of his forehead, jerking him backward in his chair.
I close my eyes, taking in a deep, satisfying breath before releasing it with a smile. The cops are just outside, but slipping past them will be easier than dodging sleeping guards. They look like they're being forced to do their jobs—and yet when I do it for them, I'm wanted behind bars.
I glance at Vynx's lifeless body slumped in the chair, blood gushing from his forehead and staining the carpet. He might've had a shot if he wasn't such a coward.
But the night ain't over yet. Time to see what my girl's up to.