The Wrath Of Rex Grayson

Chapter 6

Rex stared at her; no one said anything to him about any safe words. However, his shaking and sweating stopped instantly as he gazed back at her cold gaze.

The two stared at each other for what seemed like forever.

Like some sick joke, the girl smiled and handed him her briefcase, taking his.

Rex let out a loud sigh, and the shaking and sweating resumed. He was not sure what had just happened.

The door of the restaurant opened, and the Director walked in, his face beaming with a smile.

"Congratulations, Mr. Grayson, and welcome to the team," he said.

"Safeword… She asked for a fucking safe word," he kept mumbling.

"Yes, and your safe word was not to say a word," the Director reminded him.

Rex stared at him back and forth; he remembered the warning not to say anything to the woman, but no one told him it was the safe word.

"What... would have happened if… I had said something?" He asked.

"She would have known you were fake and shot you," the Director smiled.

Rex gasped in horror, the man was not joking.

"Stand up, we have a lot of training to do," he said.

Rex got up. "What do you mean, am I not supposed to go home?" he asked.

The director turned and asked if he had read the contract thoroughly.

"What…did I miss… something?" Rex whispered.

"For the coming five years, you will live, breathe, and eat the NSA. As far as your family is concerned, you are dead, and they were shown Chad's body," the director explained.  

Rex felt weakness in his legs, he had not cared to read much of the contract, but he remembered no part of him being declared dead. 

"No, no, wait, the contract," he tried to protest.

The Director handed him the contract, which now had two pages.

"Wait a minute… There was only one page," Rex protested.

"Are you sure?" the Director asked.

"Yes, very sure! Do you think I am stupid? How could you tell my family that I was dead?"

The director looked away, "It's not too late; we can call them and tell them there was a mix-up, and you can go back to rotting in jail," the Director explained. 

Rex gasped 

"Or you can follow me, build a career, and get back to your family," he added.

"What?"

"After five years, your contract will be over, and you can choose to go back to your family, which I explained."

Rex chuckled 

"How? Are you stupid? You just declared me dead?"

"We're NSA and can raise you from the dead," he smiled.

"But my family won't see me for five years?" Rex was on the verge of punching the Director.

"You didn't think about that when you took the fall for your stupid brother-in-law, didn't you?" the director asked.

Rex was taken aback 

The Director handed him a tablet and said, "Your sister went asking Chelsea for money to hold your funeral but was asked not to call and her line was blocked," the director played him a video.

"She is currently outside Chelsea's house, and Miguel chased her away, calling her a sister of the murderer," he added.

Rex furiously played the audio recording over and over again, trying to suppress his emotions. The people he sacrificed everything for turned their backs on him.

"There are two options here: go back to jail and hear the tales of how you were betrayed day in and day out with swollen buttocks, or follow me and build connections, make money, and have the power to deal with your girlfriend later."

Rex looked up at him, on the verge of crying but tried his best to hold it all in.

"My family needs me!" he yelled.

"Not when you will go behind bars; remember what we did was illegal, and should the FBI find you alive, you are on your own," he added.

"What…you?"

"Just follow me and give yourself a fighting chance. Your sister and brother will be okay," the Director assured, giving him five minutes to join him in the car outside or sit back in the seat and wait for another car to go and take him straight to jail.

Rex sat back in his chair, lost, as he played the recording of Chelsea yelling at his sister again. 

The very woman he sacrificed his life for did not care that he was dead.

He chuckled, realizing how stupid he was. Anger swelled inside of him. She was probably never going to visit him if he went to jail. She was going to marry another man and move on as he kept rotting in prison.

Without a second thought, he got up. Crying over spilt milk was not going to take away the five years he got.

But using the five years to build and transform himself into someone powerful was going to sieve out the sand from the spilt milk.

He had nothing to lose; after all, he was too ashamed to face his family for the stupid sacrifice he made.