Page 60 of Protective Phlox

Sadly, I would only be teaching Mr. Greer a lesson, so he would get to live unless he pushed the wrong buttons. As I got out, I peeled off my suit jacket and tossed it in the back of the car before heading inside.

You’d never know by first appearance that this gem, partially built into a hill, was anything more than an exotic beach house with high security. Even the décor was done with a modern nautical vibe, and a few of the soldiers sat around a table eating while on break. The only unusual feature that would give the place away was the televisions in every room, which not only showed what was going on outside but also the cells of my four current guests.

After unlocking the first high-tech security door with my hand, I rolled up my sleeves. The guards standing at the next panel greeted me and moved out of the way so I could use the retina scanner and type in my password.

The thick metal door whirred and moved away from the locks. The four guards inside looked to see who was coming in but didn’t move from their posts. I loved how my shoes echoed as I walked. There was something ominous about it. It announced to those housed here that the monster was coming and hiding under your bed would do you no good.

The first cell held the McCoy who had tried to screw me over. He was pacing and mumbling to himself. He’d frequently been filmed arguing with someone only he could see, rolling around the cell, and yelling for whoever the imaginary person was to die. The second cell I passed held Savannah’s brother. Glancing in, he was sitting on the narrow bed, rocking like a small child. The man in cell three was lying on his side, his face bloody and bruised from his last session. He was one of Cesare’s soldiers who was caught in our territory, and although I was positive we’d exhausted all knowledge of his boss’s location, he was never going home.

The last cell was sitting empty, my prey already waiting for my arrival in the torture room. Chad and Robert, the two guards manning the door, moved aside, but Robert held out a pair of thick blackout sunglasses for me to wear. Slipping them on, I unlocked the door and walked in. All the worry and rage brewing in my chest calmed at the look of terror on Mr. Greer’s face.

He was strapped into the interrogation chair facing me, bright lights shining in his eyes. But he knew I was coming. I’d tested this a thousand times before making my final decision on chair positioning, light type, and brightness.

“Who are you, and what do you want with me,” Mr. Greer asked, his words far tougher than the tone of his voice, which wavered like a songbird.

“Let me properly introduce myself. I’m the man who’s going to end your life.” His body shook, his bound wrists and ankles visibly trembling as he wiggled on the seat.

“I think you have the wrong guy. I work a middle-income job and….”

Before he could finish, I punched him hard enough that if the seat hadn’t been bolted to the floor, he would’ve been on his ass. Mr. Greer cried out, blood dripping from his spit lip. I restrained myself from doing it again, even though I wanted to. I really wanted to.

My movements remained slow and in control as I toyed with my prey. Leaning in close to the dazed Mr. Greer, I whispered in his ear.

“You don’t speak unless spoken to, Mr. Greer. I know who you are.” Startled, he tried to turn and look at me, but I moved back to where I looked like nothing more than a shadow, circling him like a shark. “You were born in Sacramento on June twenty-second at Headwaters Memorial Hospital. Your parents are Tinnie and Edward Greer, both of whom were teachers until they retired and now live next door to you. You chose to party rather than focus on your college studies and ended up dropping out in your third year. But not before you got your now ex-wife, Shannon, pregnant with your oldest child, Kara.” I paused to let that information sink in and watched as he licked his lips. “Luckily for you, you have quite the knack for knowing what will help people on the golf course. A real talent was how it was put, which is also how you landed a full-time caddy job for one of the most prestigious courses in all of Cali. I can just picture you rubbing shoulders with the elite of the elite until you talked one of them into giving you a job as a manager at G.L.I.B Enterprises. That was quite the coup for you since they are a social media empire. From that moment on, you’ve been very busy, Mr. Greer, and have moved up three more times within the company. You’re now the director of finance, which is quite the feat for someone who almost failed high school and then dropped out of college.”

I stepped in front of him again, and he blinked, tears trickling down his face as he tried to look up at me.

“You’re currently in debt due to your divorce and spend most of your time either at work or at a golf course you can no longer afford. You still want to look like the big man, so you take out loans to pay for the habit. How am I doing so far, Mr. Greer?” He didn’t say anything. “You can answer that question.”

“Um…yes, but why do you know so much about me,” he asked and looked around. “Am I being set up? Is this a joke? Did my ex-wife put you up to this?”

Well, now, what kind of relationship did he have with his ex to think she would have him kidnapped for a prank?

“No, this is not a joke, and no, this is not because of your ex.”

He looked down at my feet, and I could almost see the wheels spinning. “Did I wrong you? It’s not a crime to be ambitious, and I only got those raises because I earned them.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your work. But I did want you to know that I can find you and can find anything else that I want to know about you. How you fold your socks, who you are, or are not fucking on a Friday night, and what restaurants you like to eat at.” I grabbed his face, squeezing hard and making him wince. “I’ll know everything about you, and I will destroy you if you force my hand,” I growled.

“I don’t know who you are or why you want me. I have nothing to give,” he mumbled through my tight hold.

“See, that is where you’re wrong, Mr. Greer. A few days ago, I witnessed your parenting skills, or lack thereof, in action when your son pushed mine off the top platform of a jungle gym.” His brown eyes grew wide, and I could see the confusion. “You, of course, didn’t know that because you were too busy flirting with a girl to pay attention to what your son did, but my son ended up in a cast.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“You’re not sorry yet, but you will be.” Releasing his face, I wrapped my hand around his throat, and he tried to thrash away from me, but the bindings easily held him in place. I could’ve crushed his windpipe, and the thrum of rage was flowing through me and encouraging me to do just that, but instead, I purposely took off the shades and got right in front of his face so he could look into my eyes. He was shaking so hard that I thought for sure he was going to piss himself.

“Your son fucked with the wrong family. I’m going to give you three options. The first is that I can kill you right now.” I pulled my gun, and he whimpered as I pressed the hard, cold metal into his cheek. He froze, his eyes glancing at the gun and then back to me. “I can promise that no one would ever find your body.”

He subtly shook his head no. “Don’t like that option? The second one is that you can beg for your life but continue to fail as a father. If that happens, you will be seeing me again, and I won’t be as generous. I can find you anywhere, at any time, and I want you to remember that because if you see my face again, then you better start praying.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing under my hand.

“Your third and final option is that you go home and speak to your son about how bullying is bad for his health and yours. You’ll then pay more attention to your son and make sure that he doesn’t grow up to be an angry, lonely prick because his father ignored him for a piece of ass.” I pressed a little harder into his neck and felt his pulse jump higher under my fingers as his heart raced. “If you’re smart, and from everything I’ve learned, you’re quite intelligent, you’ll choose option three.”

Releasing his neck, he sucked in a sharp breath but held perfectly still. His eyes were still trained on mine. I pushed the gun a little harder into his skin and knew it would leave a mark.

“Which number do you choose?”

“Three,” he said without hesitation.