Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 138274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Fuck. Them.
“Hello?” he repeated into the darkness.
God, what was that smell—
Bing!
Across the hollow space, light bloomed as a set of elevator doors opened, the illumination revealing an empty corporate-America landscape of busted waiting area chairs and litter. As for the Otis, there was nothing inside the steel box but the remnants of mirrored panels that had been shattered by vandals, only their ragged remains retained in their frames.
With that rhyme in his head, he took a step forward, and then he had to choose whether or not to release the door and let it close behind himself.
You’ve come here. So get what you want, what you need.
The voice entered his head from somewhere outside of him, no memory this time, not even a conglomeration of derision.
He pictured the blond-haired man who had approached him at the gym a couple of weeks ago, so strong, so handsome, a Ken doll who lived and breathed, a personal trainer who seemed to know just what to say to a loser like Evan who wanted to be more than what he was.
The seminar here, tonight, could change Evan’s whole life, give him a new outlook and community, provide him with support and a greater purpose.
So why was he hesitating? He had nothing really. No job, and Mickey had been the only one who tolerated his presence.
The personal trainer wanted him, though.
And what an opportunity. A secret group in Caldwell that worked together for their common good, defeating their enemies and forging a future where they were in charge of their own destinies.
It was what his family’s organization was supposed to be.
It was all he had ever wanted… to belong like the others did.
Do this for yourself, the voice in his head told him. You will not regret it. Your whole life will change, I promise.
Evan’s weight started to shift, and then it happened. He lifted his back boot and released the prop of the door, the panel closing him in with a clang that he felt in his bones—
Instantly, there was a shift of metal-on-metal, a lock being engaged. Like the trap had been set and the raccoon was caught.
Evan whipped around. Punched at the bar. Got nowhere.
Panic jumped into his throat as he jerked and rattled things, trying to get the lock to spring free. Curling up a fist, he banged on the glass that was covered by boards on the far side—
The sound of his phone ringing stopped him.
With a shaking hand, he took the cell out and answered. “Hello?”
“It’s for your safety. Don’t freak out.”
The personal trainer’s familiar voice had him sag with relief. “Where are you?”
“I’m downstairs. In the basement. Take the elevator.”
The other man’s confidence had an undercurrent of power to it, and as Evan exhaled, it was such a relief to turn his life over to someone who knew better.
“I’m waiting for you.”
Evan’s eyes shifted over to the elevator, which was standing open, just for him… because he was wanted here. He was important here. Here, somebody thought he mattered enough to offer him a blueprint of success, improvement.
“All right,” he said.
The call was terminated on the other end and he thought about the disdain of his uncle and all those second lieutenants. He had to become the kind of guy who would have done something about his cousin’s murder… and who was going to fucking do something about the dis-respect he’d been shown at the club.
He was over being a pussy.
“A soldier, not deadweight,” he said under his breath. “You are the master of your own destiny, Evan.”
As he went forward toward the illumination, there was a crunching underfoot. Glass? Shards of something, certainly, maybe those mirrors that had been vandalized, and he felt a surging rush at crushing something that was more delicate than himself. The ego boost faltered a little when he realized he was following some sort of an oily trail, and he paused to pick up the sole of one of his boots. Whatever the stuff was, all kinds of footprints were in it, as if dozens of people had gone between the entrance and the steel box that led down into the basement.
It made him feel better. Clearly, there had been some success with the guru’s training program. Didn’t bodybuilders tan themselves really dark for showing? Maybe it was spray tanning stuff.
As soon as he stepped into the elevator, the doors closed and there was a bump and a descent. Another bing! announced the arrival at the lower level, and as the panels parted, he finally had better lighting. What he saw…
A whimpering sound came out of his lips.
Black oil, everywhere. In orange Home Depot buckets. In puddles on the vast open area’s concrete floor. Splashed on the gray-washed walls. And the stink was so much more intense here, so overwhelming that it burrowed into his nose and seemed to fill him from the inside out.