Page 61 of To Hell

As he circles the car in black jeans, a black long-sleeved T-shirt folded to almost his elbows, and black combat boots, with dominance spilling out of him, more than his evocative scent, my mind swings back to last night. How he had dominated me and fucked me until I was sore. Then he carried me into the car, pulled down my seat, and dropped me there to sleep.

I passed out a few minutes later, just sitting in the darkness with him, trying to catch my breath. It was the most intimate part for me, to be in the darkness with him. In his darkness with him. Like he gave me a sneak peek into his life.

I’m wearing tight blue jeans, a dark blue silk dress shirt, and combat boots. Valerie is in gray dress pants and a sleeveless turtleneck sweater of the same color paired with white pump heels.

Valerie leads the way, getting us cleared at the desk and moving ahead into the elevator.

The elevator halts, and we step out of the steel box when a man in a navy gray suit greets us. Gelled hair to the side, thick glasses doing nothing to hide his bright brown eyes, and a stomach like he swallowed a balloon.

Valerie speaks with him. He then leads us past a foyer with trophies and honorary awards on each side of the wall. He stops in front of a door and pushes it open but doesn’t go inside the room.

“He is in there,” he gestures for us to go in.

“Thank you,” Valerie steps into the room. I follow her, then Ettore.

“Ms. Moore, Ms. Gray, welcome," a rotund voice whoops as we step in. Then my eyes meet the man behind the voice, sitting behind a long mahogany desk in a tailored charcoal suit. He has Gunmetal gray hair, gray eyes, golden glasses on his nose, and prominent cheekbones.

I can’t help but notice the detailing that makes the whole.

“Hello, Jack.” Valerie smiles at him, and he tries as hard as he can for some unknown reason to return her smile.

“Hello,” I don’t smile.

“Please, have a seat.” He points at the brown armchairs in front of his desk, and we sit. “Valerie, your collection has indeed gained quite a bit of attention.” He wastes no time in getting straight to the point. He does not even offer a glass of water, as if he cannot wait to be done with us.

My eyes flip to Ettore standing in front of a landscape portrait in the corner, then back at Jack and to the large window, from which I see New York city sprawled in the distance.

“But,” he chuckles dryly, “There is always a but with these things, aye?” His smile is cramped and fake. He reads our expression and picks up composure, “What I’m trying to say is that, I'm afraid the sales figures aren't as high as you've been led to believe.” He clears his throat and leans forward.

Valerie's expression fumbles, stripping away her usual poised look. “What do you mean? We've seen the reports; the numbers are there.”

Jack smiles again, but it’s tight. It's the kind of kindness you give to a child when you are about to break the bad news that he cannot go to play outside with his friends.

“There must have been a misunderstanding,” he rests his elbows on the desk. “According to our records, the collection has not yet met the threshold for the increased revenue percentage. I'm sorry, but we cannot release the additional funds.”

The disappointment that hits me feels like a physical punch. I knew it.

My eyes burn from hot tears brewing in them.

I feel like a wall is closing in on me and the sun has been cloaked by darkness. This has been the pattern of my life for far too long, I’m starting to wonder if death won’t be the best to end this loop of misery. And why death won’t just come to end it.

“I would like to see the records,” Valerie leans forward.

“Are you questioning my integrity?

“It’s not a matter of questioning your integrity,” Valerie flips, “I have a team tracking this deal too and there is no way they could have been wrong about this.”

“And do I not have a team?” Jack snarls. His eyes flip to where Ettore and his tone immediately changes. “Let’s not make this little hiccup come in the way of our business relationship, Valerie,” his tone is soft but there is something in his eyes that doesn’t add up.

“The records,” Valerie snips.

The tension in the room right now is thick. Just when I feel like I can bear it no longer…

“Have it your way,” Jack leans in his seat, taps his MacBook carelessly, and tilts the screen for Valerie to find what she is looking for.

Valerie drags the laptop closer and starts to read what is on the screen. With the way she is scrunching her nose and shaking her head, I know it can’t be good.

“This can’t be.” She lifts her eyes to narrow them at Jack who has a smug expression of I told you so.

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