13 13.The Shock

Marley POV

This guy was Mamou's minion...and that means he wanted Luca dead too.

But he wants Luca dead after he takes me out. That means only Luca can handle me according to Mamou. And that means if I got Luca on my side I'd be unstoppable.

" I'm Jack by the way," He interrupted my thoughts.

"Jack, so you are the cleaner, huh," I looked at him with contempt, amidst sobs.

"Cleaner, no! Never! " He said defensively.

IQ level is super low. He's stupid as hell.

" I didn't mean that literally, Jack, like you are the one who cleans up their mess... right?"

"No. Not really.... I'm just a... messenger," he stuttered. He wasn't even sure of his lies. But I could see it in his eyes. He'd never admit to be Mamou's minion. No one would.

He stood there looking at me, hoping I believed his little lie. He seemed intimidated despite being sly.

"Fine!!! I'm sick and tired of all this. I want to talk to Flores. I want to give him exactly what he's been looking for.

I'm not hiding anymore.

Friday 12:00 noon. My house." I rubbed my tears in 'anger'.

Jackpot.

_________________

Thursday.

3.00pm

"Boo, just came back from Nebraska. I'm on my way home. Didn't remember it was your day off. We need to meet tonight though. My head is exploding with stress. See you then."

I knew Eve would turn up. At least a besties' night in would do me justice.

I opened my door and ran straight to the washroom. Shit I was pressed. I hurried to pull down my jeans and just as I sat on the toilet seat....the shadow.

Again. I slowly released my piss and stealthily opened the door to creep on the intruder.

My concentration was interrupted by a sharp pain on my neck. Like an electric shock. A Taser maybe. I struggled to see the face as I passed out. It was masked.

4:05pm

"You've been gone too long, I'm guessing you're not fully recovered from the smoky incident," I heard as I opened my eyes.

I winced at the pain in my wrists as I came to terms with the fact that I was tied to the chair. My head hurt. I was nauseated.

Flores.

He sat swinging on my rock chair. On his feet was a tool box, probably filled with dozens of tools meant to torture me into doing what he wanted. I wasn't shocked. I knew his tricks. I knew his type. My type.

"What's with you and creeping up on people and swinging on their chairs? " I asked.

"I loved to swing as a child. I'd swing on anything. Bunk beds, swings, chairs and one tree outside my parents' house. Now I just swing on electric cables, strap ladders from helicopters and pretty much any chair I get."

As he talked I could see his face slowly light up in a nostalgic smile. He stared at my window as if replaying all the nostalgic events in his head. I could see him in his eyes. The child in him. This is what I had been looking for. His other side. The one he never let anyone see. It was his childhood.

" Imma give you an opening formula. It's gonna hurt...but whatever," he said holding my knees. "Patella dislocation, really?" I asked.

"How did you know that? Do they like.....teach you that in law school or something?" He seemed pretty surprised.

"Do they teach you that in crime school? " He smiled at my dry sarcasm.

" I should have known better than to underestimate your knowledge in anatomy-linked criminal stuff," he said.

Then he pushed my knee cups to the side.

"Aaaaaaahhhh!!!'' It was painful as hell.

"Imma push them back to place when I feel like it. " He said now walking round the room seemingly doing a survey.

He stopped and went ahead to check on my study table, as if looking for something. Then he seemed to find it.

" This is a pen. I'm using it to give you a slight percentage of pain you'll have once I decide to use my tools. Just a little bit...16% maybe. No grace period... in fact this pen will be your grace period," he said coming towards me.

"Here, is the jugular vein and very near is the carotid artery. So I'm gonna stab your neck. You'll have about one minute before you pass out. I will ask you a question, and the more you don't answer...the more I push the pen deeper...and nearer to the places I've mentioned. If the pen gets to your jugular vein or carotid artery, you are dead. Understood??? I want you to know that I've got nothing to lose if I kill you. I'm not bluffing Marley."

I was scared to the gut.

"Please... please don't do it.... please...."

Then BOOM! The pain snaked it's way from my neck to the soles of my feet. I knew I'd pass out sooner than later. Blood oozed from the area down to my clothes. I felt my eyes turn red and my head become heavier by the minute.

"Where's my package? I want it. Now."

"Ma..mou....wants...u..u..s.....dee...ad. Both...of us," I struggled to utter as my words came out in whispered slurs,

"Ask Kenne...It's.... it's... all Jack."

"Kenne? How do you know Kenne? Shit!" He asked. I could see the shock and confusion in his eyes.

But I couldn't see by the minute. My vision was blurring and the only sense I could use was that of hearing, but not for that long.

"911 what's your emergency?"

" Please help! My name is Sammy Hart and I just found my neighbor lying on the floor, a pen stabbed in her neck. HURRY!!!"

He reported and hang up.

"Don't die yet, we are so not done. My bad."

Darkness.