Page 22 of Sinner

And I planned on enjoying every moment of exploiting it.

I stormed into the kitchen, yanking the keys to one of my vehicles into my hand. The nineteen sixty-six OldsmobileToronado in black was a perfect hunting car, the sleek vision fading into the background of night.

After jumping in and shoving the keys into the ignition, I pressed the opener for the garage. The light close to the ceiling provided a backdrop of the vehicles I owned, including my beloved Harley that also suited certain occasions.

But not tonight.

This was a simple in and out, avoiding causing any additional issues.

The engine roared to life and I backed out with a smile on my face.

With the past couple of days being so fruitful and tonight’s enjoyment, I would likely end up with quite an appetite. Perhaps I’d makecoq au vinfor dinner.

If there was one thing I did enjoy, it was a good meal after a hard day’s work.

The drive was without incident and only twenty minutes later, I pulled into the man’s exclusive neighborhood. While he was the pillar of the community, since his third divorce had gone through, he’d hired more escorts than usual. I had checked tonight wasn’t one of those nights.

Joel Merrick was highly respected in the upper portion of society in Chicago, his friends and family thinking him a fabulous guy.

Only his wives and my brothers and I knew differently. If there was one thing I knew about business, it was that you learned every dark secret you could about your competition. While there were still some good guys in the industry, including the man owning Sindom Entertainment, they were few and far between.

I rolled to a stop on the street, immediately turning off the lights. I wasn’t a true monster, or I wouldn’t care about erasing lives of anyone who attempted to interfere. People only got what they deserved.

The walk took only a couple of minutes. I donned the mask outside his front door, curious as to whether my fabulous lucky streak would hold. When the doorknob turned, I grinned behind the thick plastic.

There was classical music playing from somewhere in the house. I followed the sound toward the back of the house where I found Joel sipping a drink while watching the news. He didn’t seem to sense me come in, enjoying being able to kick his feet up after a long, tough day of stealing from another company.

I was swift in my actions moving forward, while still allowing for a few moments of sheer entertainment. There was such enjoyment in watching someone squirm, of seeing the horror in their eyes the few seconds before they realized their life would soon end.

Some would say taking a man’s life created a rush. For me it was more extreme. Ending a life created peace if only for a little while.

“What the fuck?” Joel said as he jerked to his feet. The poor man almost tripped on the corner of the stuffy leather chair, managing to drop his glass onto the small table in the process. The shattering of the crystal couldn’t take his attention off my face, or the knife as I lifted it into the air.

This wasn’t about reminiscing with regards to the choices he’d made. I had no interest in hearing him beg for mercy or promise me the world. All I was here for was catching a brief momentof the man’s terror and providing the ultimate end to a life not worth living.

“Who are you? What do you want? I have cash. Money. I’ll give it to you.”

I cocked my head to the side, studying him intently. In his cigar smoking jacket, it was easy to see how much of a relic he was. I pulled out the picture from my jacket, flashing it in front of him.

Almost instantly, the muscle on the corner of his mouth began to twitch.

“You’ve been a very bad boy,” I stated, referencing the obvious.

“I can explain.”

I chuckled in response. They all could. They acted as if they were nothing but decent men enjoying the spoils of their fortune. No one was immune to fading into black.

“Pu-lease. I have a wife. Kids.”

Lie.

“I’m a God-fearing Christian.”

Another lie.

“I’ll give you all my money.”

Now that might be a possibility although I didn’t need a cent from the prick.

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