17 The Man Who Trusted

The lobby was emptier than before as he hurried towards the elevators. Beside the main elevators, a smaller lift waited, for the waiters to carry food to the upper floors. The door was open and two waiters were rolling a large food cart in, big enough for Falcon to lie down and go to sleep.

The cart had two shelves, the lower one contained cloche-covered platters, each one emitting a mouthwatering aroma. The two waiters steered the cart in by the handles and nodded to him as he walked in behind them.

He wondered if they were thinking why this dressed gentleman was using the waiters' lift but they were trained to not say anything. One of them pressed the button to the thirty-fourth floor and the lift began to rise gradually, much slower than a normal lift. The platters rattled slightly as they moved up in silence.

After what felt like an eternity, the lift finally pinged and the door opened. The two waiters steered the trolley out with much difficulty. He waited patiently until they were out, before stepping out after them. Both of them looked up at him at the same time, their gazes polite and inquiring. Falcon smiled, at which they relaxed, before he punched the nearest one in the gut.

The man let out a painful 'oomph' and fell, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. The younger man stood terrified as Falcon approached him. He opened his mouth to scream just as Falcon hit the side of his neck with his hand. His scream died in his throat and he fell in his arms.

Falcon quickly undressed the younger one, because he was sure he couldn't take the sight of an older naked man lying in the hall. Putting on the uniform, he stuffed both of them in the closet tucked away in the hallway and headed out. He grabbed the trolley and steered it into the main elevator because he wasn't sure if the waiter's lift would open up to the penthouse. Also because he knew he couldn't bear more of the rattling structure.

When the elevator opened right into the penthouse, his breath stuck in his throat. The open plan area was much like Cyan's room at the mansion, though much smaller and less pretty. Still beautiful, nonetheless, the glass wall showed him he was high up in the clouds, offering a bird's eye view of a large portion of the city. The sun beams were scattered all over the floor like golden glitter, as the sun twinkled at him through the clouds. The room was empty and warm, and Falcon fought the urge to curl up onto a couch and sleep under the sun's embrace.

The last time he had broken into Cyan's living area, he had admired the moon. Now, he was admiring the sun. That night, he was there to steal something. Today, he was here to steal someone. The thought did not make him feel any better.

And that someone was coming up to his apartment, he saw with a start as the panel beside the lift glowed red. Falcon steered the cart away from the lift's view and parked it next to the door, standing beside it with his hand on his weapon. His heart was thundering and he mentally groaned at the buff good-for-nothing bodyguards he would have to take out soon.

There was a ding as the door opened and Cyan stepped out. There was someone else in the elevator and they had been talking. Cyan raised a hand in goodbye, and the elevator departed.

Cyan was so careless with security, that it annoyed him. Falcon knew he would have made for a much better bodyguard if he had chosen to be one. He snorted, typical of this man to walk in first without getting his bodyguards to check the room. Well, why was he complaining, it was making things easier for him. Less men to take out and less of his time consumed.

He stepped out from the shadows, his gun jabbing into Cyan's ribs in an instant. Cyan stiffened, but said calmly: 'Jason.'

'Hello, Cyan. Sometimes it's a good idea to let the bodyguards do their work without running from them like an annoying kid.'

'Does this mean I am in danger? Because, if that is so, can I have my meal before you do anything to me?'

He snorted. 'Or I could just kill you now.'

'That will make you a murderer. Would you be able to live with that, knowing you snuffed out life from someone who has family and friends waiting for him? And a lover too?

He leaned in close and spoke in his ear. 'I have been living with it for years.'

Cyan turned around as Falcon retreated, pulling his gun away to give him room. What was he doing, was he being considerate of the man? He shook his head as Cyan looked him up and down.

'What did you do to the suit?' He lamented at his waiter's clothes.

'Got rid of it.' He shrugged.

'That's a shame. I thought you looked quite good.'

'Don't deviate from the point, Yarrow.' He wasn't sure why he used his last name, but he knew it was more for his own sake than to sound intimidating. 'Where did you hide the package?'

'That package again.' Cyan sighed. 'I don't even know what it is.'

'Then why are you protecting it? Just give it to me and I will leave you alone.'

'Oh no, I can't.' Cyan said.

'Why not?' Falcon said irritably. He couldn't for the life of him understand what the package was. It sure as hell wasn't money, as Cyan had plenty. If it was money, Cyan would have let him take away the package that night.

'Because it's gone.' Cyan said, looking quite satisfied.

Falcon's heart fell. He was hoping Cyan would reveal the location and he would leave with just a package and not a human. But there was just one way now, he had to do what 453 had asked him to.

'Then you leave me with no choice.' He said, tucking the gun back into the waistband of his jeans with a sigh.

'Who are you working for, Jason? Do you even know?' Cyan sounded sad and what was that? A bit of anger had seeped into his tone. He was showing too many emotions and this was making Falcon uncomfortable. He was speaking quickly now, his breath hitching as the first of moisture seeped into his eyes. 'These people killed my parents.' He whispered.

'And how did Dill and Dahlia Yarrow die?' Falcon asked politely, in mock interest, though his heart ached and screamed at him to shut up. Not to mention he was also curious about their mysterious deaths. He was not letting the tears of this man stir the steadily growing tree of guilt deep in the pit of his stomach.

'They were murdered, Jason. And, brutally. You are being parts with murderers.' Cyan tried to convince him again, and Falcon flashed a reluctant look onto his face, only for his breath to catch in his throat.

The happy smiling man was broken, his eyes filling with tears as he reminisced the parents he had lost. Behind the cheerful façade he had built around himself to shield his emotions from the world, Cyan's heart was crushed and Falcon could see the million splintered pieces as they floated about, waiting for someone to pick them up. And Falcon knew in that moment that he could stop and stare at his hollow heart, the shards of anguish could be collected by his hand and he could help him stand back up.

But, once again, Falcon made the wrong decision.

'That is not my concern. I am just doing my job.' Falcon shrugged, and in that moment the broken shards disappeared, the harsh sun returned and Falcon felt an itch of regret creep its way over his entire body. The glass reflected the sun's glare as the universe demanded why he did what he did, but Falcon blatantly ignored the stares and raised his eyes to Cyan.

Cyan raised a single finger and wiped away a teardrop clinging to his eyelashes and spoke. 'If it's about money, I can pay you more.' When he spoke, his voice was pretty normal, although there was a slight tremor which he tried to subdue.

'Did I ask you for a favor?' Falcon snapped. He couldn't take it anymore, Cyan's continuous offers for help when he didn't need one, his good intentions and bad actions. 'You were nice to the wrong person.' He said, extracting the large needle from the pocket of the waiter's suit.

'I know you are better than that.' Cyan said ruefully.

'Stop trying to play this good cop game with me. I am not going to become guilty and let you go.' He almost screamed in his agitation, as he put the mouth of the bottle of the sedative to the needle and pushed the plunger. 'So are you resisting or going along with me?'

'Resisting, of course. It would be wrong to myself and others to just go along with you.' Cyan said.

'You think too much of right and wrong, Cyan.' Falcon shook his head.

'It's the law of the universe. What, you think you will wrong someone and it will not come back to you?'

'Oh, do shut up with your sermon.' Falcon cursed, holding up the needle.

'How will you get out? This hotel is swarming with guards and guests.' Cyan asked and if that concern in his eyes was genuine, then Cyan had a heart of gold.

'I am not Falcon for nothing.' He said.

There were a few seconds of silence in which Falcon realized his mistake, and he jerked his head up to look at Cyan's face.

'Falcon? Oh.' Cyan's face turned from confusion to recognition in the same time as Falcon covered the distance between them, wondering how Cyan would react. Will he run from this murderer, or will he continue to trust the orphan he had found in his room in the dead of the night?

'Then I hope you don't get caught.' Cyan said and Falcon's heart broke into a million pieces once again.

Falcon hissed under his breath. 'I told you to stop playing this game with me. And put this vase down which you are 'discreetly' trying to pick up.' He snapped.

Cyan cursed loudly and dropped the vase from the coffee table, looking him in the eye with a sigh. 'I told you I would resist.' As soon as he stepped in closer, Cyan raised his fist in a halfhearted punch, opening his mouth. 'You don't have to...….'

Falcon placed a hand over his mouth just as he plunged the needle in his arm, catching Cyan's body as his breathing became rugged.

'The problem with you is.' He hissed in his ear. 'You are too nice for your own good. This world will play you till your last breath.'

Cyan's chest rose and fall with a labored breathing as he struggled to stay in control. 'No.' He gasped. 'I simply refuse to let the ugliness of this world affect me.' He gasped loudly as he went limp, his body falling into Falcon's arms like a rag doll.

The penthouse went silent as Falcon tried to catch his breath, shaking his head to clear away the words Cyan had just said. He wasn't having any of that nonsense, now all he had to do was give Cyan Yarrow over to his client.

Who also happens to be the murderer of his parents as far as you know, his brain nagged him.

Shut up, he growled internally, clearing away the platters of food from the lower shelf and hovering the unconscious body of Cyan over it. The dishes fell to the floor with an almighty crash, spilling their contents as the aroma of the food spread into the room. Cyan seemed to be a fan of seafood, Falcon observed, as shrimp soup flowed over to his feet, mucking his shoes.

He grabbed a sheet from the bed and covered Cyan up, tucking in the corners to make sure no body part was visible. He covered the upper shelf with the empty platters, the cutlery haphazard as he quickly stacked it up. He wasn't sure how long he had been in the apartment but pretty soon, people would start to wonder where the CEO vanished.

What if his girlfriend came up to look for her lover? Ugh, he couldn't bear to look her in the eyes then.

Falcon steered the cart over to the elevator, pressing the button for the lowest floor, the basement where the central kitchen was located. Hopefully, he would escape undetected through the hustle and bustle of the food preparation and frantic waiters.

Just like he had expected, the elevator led him into the basement where a hurricane of activity raged. He steered in the cart, narrowly avoiding several waiters as they hurried on about him. The heat from the ovens hit him full in the face and he suppressed a cough, keeping his head down as he scurried through.

Nobody looked at him twice as he rolled the cart through the kitchen and into the backyard. It was more of a storage area with sacks of rice and grains stacked neatly on top of one another. Waiters were constantly carrying supplies into the kitchen where the chefs awaited them.

He rolled the cart through a door at the end into the parking lot where the cargo trucks were unloading supplies. His eyes landed on the red rented truck he had parked by the low brick wall and he heaved a sigh of relief. Waiters were carrying supplies on the carts and not one of them paid him attention as he rolled it over to his truck, removing Cyan from the shelf and onto the backseat. A lock of his curls fell out from under the sheet and he screamed internally but then the door was shut on him and Cyan had disappeared.

He had almost rolled out of the lot when he saw her, looking around with worry marring her pretty features. She glanced his way and her eyes widened with recognition. She made her way towards him and his heart twisted as he waited, adopting the bodyguard posture he had taken up at the engagement party.

'Jason, isn't it?' She smiled, though her eyes were tight with worry. 'I don't think you remember me. I am Shayma, Cyan's girlfriend.' She was bent over the car window on his side, talking gently.

Of course, he remembered her. She had arrived late and danced with Cyan for the rest of the time, both of their eyes drowning each other.

'You left the job, didn't you?' She continued. 'Cyan was worrying, thinking he'd upset you or something.'

So Cyan hadn't told on him. Nobody knew he was the one who had locked the man up in his closet and broken through his safe. This explained why nobody had tried to stop or come in his way out of the familiar faces he had seen at the party today.

'Oh, no, Miss.' Falcon bowed his head, looking up at her through the driver's side window. 'I simply thought I wasn't fit for the job.'

'Nonsense.' She shrugged it away. 'Cyan would be happy to have you back, talk with him again, okay?'

'I…well, if you insist.' He gave a meek smile. He wondered what she was seeing, a twenty-year-old man in search of a job or a murderer with the body of her lover in the backseat of his car.

'Speaking of which, have you seen Cyan?' She bent farther over the window and Falcon started hyperventilating, wondering if she could see in the back.

'No, Miss.' He said. 'You needn't worry, though. He will turn up.'

'That he will.' She said. 'But at what cost?' She looked lost and confused, as she retreated and raised a hand. 'Remember to talk to him.' She waved as she moved away, just as Falcon put the truck into drive and the vehicle rolled towards the exit, as clouds took over the afternoon sky.

Above him, the sky started crying tears of remorse, while the clouds roared in anger.