"You answer to none but the whim of your own black heart."–Joshua Winning, Sentinel (Sentinel Trilogy, #1)
Yesterday, en route to the LeBlanc's Estate in Northampton
My fingers are tightly wound around the steering wheel of my Volvo S90. My thoughts are volatile as the events of the day play in my head.
Fuck Canaan and his brown-noser of a personal assistant, Pamela.
Fuck Justine and her uppity family; always been a pain in my ass. If I hadn't convinced her to elope five years ago, we would not ever be married. The family did not approve of me. A boy who came from nothing; no money, no status; scholarship kid that had to work three times harder than the rich elite trust fund babies around him.
"I will have words, Justine." Bitter words flow cross my tongue, choking me. And on my lap, the cold touch of steel. It is my silent partner (well not so silent); my personal avenger – my 9 mm Glock 18. Ironically; it was a birthday present from Justine, a year ago. I have spent a lot of time at the range. I am a crack shot. I am going to have a lot of words.
My foot squeezes down harder on the accelerator. The car jumps forward, carrying me closer to my destiny. A smile forms on my face. I am glad.
Finally, the house appears in the distance, surrounded by a grove of trees. No neighbours because the LeBlancs loved their privacy. She is in there, probably laughing at me, planning to take me for everything I owned. She threw me out of our house, ME! I am the man! I brought in the money. She just spends it! The only joy I had, other than my company the past few months was Sandra. All gone! Yes; probably sleeping with Sandra was a bad idea, but Justine was a glacier. Cold, unfeeling, distant; (her parents poison her against me) and I wanted love from anyone...someone to touch me, to hold me, to make me feel...SOMETHING.
Stopping the car, I leaped out after grabbing the gun off my lap and jogged the rest of the way to the house, rung the bell and waited.
The minutes tick by, I am calm and sure. The door finally swings open and I am coldly greeted by the butler; Jasper.
"You are not welcome here, Mr. P..." The bullet fired from my gun silences his smug ass forever. The gun's silencer keeps the other residents; unaware. His lifeless body falls to the ground, a shocked expression etched on his face forever. A height of ecstasy achieved. I step over the body and continue my journey into the house. My final destination: Justine. But my second step takes me into the kitchen where Chrissie, the maid, and Linda, the cook are having a late lunch.
"Mr. Pope? I did not know you were..." Chrissie, pretty little Chrissie stops talking when she views the gun pointed in their direction. Squeezing off two fast rounds, I make quick work of them. Two more dull thuds hit the pristinely polished floor.
That was three down and three more to go.
Now to the most important three: Mr. and Mrs. LeBlanc and of course, my darling Justine.
I head to the office where Mr. LeBlanc spends most of his time, smoking his cigars and reading his precious first editions. Retirement: the better days of your life. Pushing open the double doors, Mr. LeBlanc's head raises up with a greeting
"Jasper, you need...you're not..."
"No, I am not Jasper." I raise my gun and look him straight in the eyes. "Lucien, it is a pleasure to see you again. This visit will be an extremely short one."
"Please Christopher, let's talk this through"
"See you in hell Lucien LeBlanc"
The bullet hits him high in the chest and throws his body hard into his leather chair. I listen for that final breath to leave his body, it gurgles out and I am exultant.
I am more focus and determined now. My mission is nearly complete. Upstairs I will find my girl, the bane of my existence and her bitch of a mother. Creeping up the stairs, I come in contact with Esmeé (speak of the sprite and she shall appear). Placing my forefinger against my lips, I signal for her complete silences, she obliges; perhaps it's the gun that she spies that buys her compliance. Either way, it works.
"Lucky meeting you like this Esmeé, you look splendid." Smiling hard but she does not smile back, fucking heartless twat.
"Where's your lovely daughter, this fine day?"
"If you try anything...I WILL SCREAM"
"Screaming would bring me such elation, Esmeé, you scream as hard and as long as you want. The only person that will come to your rescue will be Justine. That is a threesome I will enjoy immensely. So scream for me Esmeé, please."
"Oh God, what have you done, Christopher?"
"I am ending it all." Pulling the trigger brings more joy than I could ever imagine, she falls slowly, crashing into a table and screams for Justine to run. Fortunately, she runs straight into my arms. Excuse me, my gun.
No words are exchanged; her little note said it all. Her eyes hold defiance and hatred. Good.
Her death is quick and painless, much more than what she afforded me. ONE bullet between her eyes. Finality.
I leave the house and the dead behind and head squarely for my car. I have a long drive back to London. Back, for my final words with Demetrius.
9:45 pm, London
I have been watching Black Industries for several hours now. One by one, the employees leave the building for the evening and still I remain, waiting on that particular person. But I am disappointed. It was a little after 6 pm when Pamela left; No bullet for her. It will only draw too much attention; too quickly and I will not get my ultimate conversation with whom I truly wanted. So I wait.
His driver, Sidney left a few minutes after Pamela, fan-fucking-tastic. Still, I wait; all around me, darkness envelops like a warm blanket.
I am patient
Faint footsteps resound off the concrete. It gets louder the closer the person gets to my location in the shadows. They glide past me, it's him; my so-called best friend, the man I trusted, who stabbed me in the back. Seriously D, you're evil, you're cruelty unmatched. Naturally, I go unnoticed; his head is down, all his attention given to the contents on his phone in his hand. Quickly, I follow him to his car's location; I need to get his attention so I whisper his name.
He looks up in my direction.