Grant Emerson was a shrewd man and he liked this about himself.He had also come to learn in the preceding weeks that Reynolds Sheen was a resourceful man too. Just as resourceful as he was. For days, he had planned how to take the man out quietly without drawing attention until Hamish, that impatient fool decided to rain on his parade with that damn ultimatum of his. The memory of Hamish's words were bile in his throat. 'We agreed that you would take him out, didn't we?' He reserved a special loathing for everything about the man. His tone, his manner of speech, his inflated ego, the way he looked at everyone else form the bridge of his nose as though he was somehow convinced he was a better person that all the rest of them. Grant hoped the day would come when the Johns conglomerate would lie in ruins. His job done, his final act would be to kill the man himself, just for the gratification he would get out of the act. He could almost see it.After the call, he made arrangements t
Reynolds knew he was doomed to die the instant he hit the water. It was not something he could ever escape.It was a distant concern, an out of body experience, this knowing, the way you know the sun would dip after twilight but fail to pay attention to its passing. Thoughts roared through his mind loudly. But they were not nearly as loud as the wind. The wind was a wild cat, roaring in his ears as he descended at a frightening velocity. 'What would happen to Kayla, to my child?' He thought. In those final seconds, as the weight of his descent made a javelin out of his body, all that he could think about was the fact that his child would grow up in a world where he would not get to be its father. How Kayla could lose everything she had gained. Tia, his sister. What would she do? What could she do? His mother, too. The memory of her flashed through his mind as he plunged, the wind tearing at him. Could his mother survive more pain? Could her heart take it. What would his family eve
Never minding how insufferable the man was, never minding his many faults, it was very unlike Jovian's boss to arrive at a function late. Reynolds Sheen was a punctual man. Perhaps, punctual to a fault. This Jovian knew well. He knew it like he knew the back of his hand, or the back streets through the city. He was on guard duty, as usual. But this time, the job came with extra weight to it. He was guarding Mrs Kayla. She had not started showing yet, being only a few weeks pregnant, but Jovian knew what was at stake. In the months to come, when she grew heavier and less capable of carrying out certain tasks, he would have to be ever present, watching over her like a mother hen. A eagle aware its eaglets can be prey too. Like the falcon of the air, keeping watch for danger. Even though he had trained half his life to protect and serve the Johns, the mother and her urnborn child were, to him, more than he had ever had to handle regardless of how simple and containable they seemed. M
Ceneau had spent most of the night with Mei Zhang, so the heaviness in his eyelids was not for want of sobriety, but rather for lack of sleep, which for him was a first. After the news of Kayla's pregnancy broke and he could finally exhale, he made his aide, Gaude, drive them across the city, a short distance away from the church to a restaurant he frequented whenever he was in the city. It was nothing grandeur, that place, and its clean simplicity made for a sort of magnificence, giving it an air of dignity. It also served as one of the city’s only places where he could dine without attracting attention, something he enjoyed doing. And this he’d shown to Mei, who seemed to love the place too. They’d spent most of the time going back and forth, getting to know each other. He found that he liked her a whole lot, but it was not because she admired him, but because she was, for the most part, a whole person. As whole as the child of a billionaire could be. A very distinctive feature
Jovian's search could barely be called a search. Not in the real sense of it.The scene of the wreckage was practically waiting for him in the middle of the highway, on the path back to the Johns' mansion. When he arrived at the scene, the police were already there, dressed from head to toe in their black uniforms, their little guns poking out of their holsters. In their matching outfits, they always looked ridiculous to Jovian. Undertrained. Undisciplined. Un-everything. All they were to do too often was how to look sharp in a uniform.Jovian got out of the car and approached the scene. From what he could see, Reynolds had given whoever came after him hell. This did not surprise him. Not even a little bit. The man had almost beat him in hand to hand combat, a thing he previously thought improbable. Call him arrogant, but he knew how proficient he was. He knew because he had spent years honing his body into the perfect weapon. But in mere seconds, Reynolds put years of training to
When Reynolds opened his eyes again, he was in a room he did not recognize.The ceiling—which was the first thing he saw— was low, so close that he was certain if he stood and reached high enough, he could touch it. The entire room on the other hand was sparsely furnished with a chair near the bed and an old table, and it smelt entirely of sweetness and unrestrained air. The windows faced him from the other end, light shooting through, and the blinds which blocked out most of the sun danced in the light breeze. Oddly, the room seemed distantly familiar, and he could have sworn he had been in it before. But he had no recollection whatsoever. It was though he had seen it in a dream.He tried to think back, but even if he’d laid eyes upon this place before, he couldn’t recall it. And when he closed his eyes, even if he did remember anything, there were flashes of images which just wouldn’t come together, as though they didn’t want to do so.Shaking his head, Reynold lifted his head a b
Of all the things he despised about the country, Riker despised the fear that people carried about, hoarding it close to their hearts. Cowardice was a stain, Riker had always believed. It was a thing that ought to be washed clean out of the body and the soul. Of all the things the people feared, they feared the police the most. Perhaps, he did not share the same fear and trembling that they felt because he had grown up affluent. His father had the police in the palm of his hand. How else would he have evaded that hit and run charge in high school? How else would he have buried that case in college when Reynolds Sheen came after him. He had tried to understand their fear so many times; he still could not. While other people caught sight of the police and froze like animals caught in headlights, for Riker, they were but a minor disturbance. He cared little for them most days, less other days. This was why he was filled with unbowed rage when the man said no to him."I don't want an
The seventh morning after his awakening, Reynolds could finally walk unassisted.All the days before that, he needed his grandmother's help to be propped up in bed. Every form of locomotion hurt. Staying still hurt too. Very badly. Each time he moved his arm or tried to, he experienced agony. It was as though his body was remembering the flesh entering into his body, the metal a foreigner to his insides. The wound in his shoulder was easier to treat as the bullet had gone clear through his body. There was no metal to dig out of his skin. His grandmother simply cleaned the wound, smearing it with salve afterwards to give him some comfort. She often left for the nearby towns to offer her services as a healer. The hospital in the city was a little to expensive for town dwellers like his grandmother, racking up astronomical bills for the smallest of services. She was a skilled healer and was more affordable, so often they patronized her, causing her to always be on the move, leaving