Home // Completed Stories // Short But Sweet // Poetry // Stories In Progress

Chapter 12

Shadows…

…they shifted in the darkness, insubstantial… yet so real… twisting, turning, reaching…

Martin Stone twisted about within the bed sheets, his nude body slick with sweat.

 “No,” he mumbled in his sleep, fear lacing his voice.

Inside his mind…

…part of the shadow broke away from the others, stretching out its long tentacle.  Claws, like those of a bird of prey, formed on the end of the lengthening shadow as it suddenly thrust forward and grasped him about the neck, its talons sinking into his flesh.

A face appeared before his bulging eyes, the features unfocused and partially hidden within the shadows.

“I am coming for you,” it hissed, “you cannot escape me.”

Martin’s eyes suddenly snapped open and he sat straight up in bed, a scream locked in his throat.  He looked wildly around the darkened motel room then quickly moved to turn on the bedside lamp, nearly knocking it over in his haste.

Snapping the light on, it cast a soft glow about the room, chasing most of the shadows back to darkened corners.  A giggle bubbled up from Martin's throat, his eyes gleaming with madness as he realized it had been nothing but a dream and that he was quite alone. 

But he also knew that it had been more than a dream, it had been a premonition.

“He’s coming…” he sang softly like a small child excited about a visit from Santa Claus.  He giggled again then slapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes turning cold and evil.  “I must hurry,” he whispered as he fought off the bed sheets and scrambled from the bed. 

“Yes, yes, I must hurry.  He will come and I must be ready.”

Slowly, as he spoke the words, a strange calm came over him.  Somewhere in his twisted, sick mind, the businessman that was Martin Stone emerged again and snatched the situation away from the beast that was quickly growing within him.  His eyes still had an almost vulture quality to them but he was lucid again.  Martin had to keep his wits about him if he were going to bring down the Hawk, despite how nasty a thrill he got from making things happen with his say-so… with his money.

In a cliché'd sort of way, money had truly been the root of all evil for Martin Stone.  It had always held a certain appeal with him, but when he landed his first big success and saw the bonus attached, it was one of the greatest highs he'd ever felt.  Money and power… it was what controlled him now.  The more money he made the more power he acquired and oh, how Martin could weld that power.

From then on, he began keeping score of his power with decimals.  Whether it was bedding some hottie, whether it was snagging a fat corporate account for his company…

… or whether it was hiring someone to kill your own wife.

Rachel.  Such an ugly duckling when he’d first married her, but then he hadn’t cared then.  Back then he hadn’t yet become acquainted with the high of money and power.  Back then, he had been simply Martin, a boring, predictable bastard.

That Martin was long gone and now the new Martin must correct a mistake that the old Martin had made…

Getting rid of an unwanted wife.

A cruel smile crossed his lips as he reminded himself why he was paying the price with this little dream.  It was a small investment of time, losing some sleep for the ultimate high, awaiting to know that he'd now take matters into his own hands… damn the expense.  The beast within was more than willing to get his hands dirty in the process.  Money didn't appeal to it the way the more basic instincts did.

Climbing out of the bed, his eyes narrowed on a piece of folded paper that lay on the floor just inside the door to his motel room.  He froze.  His eyes darted around wildly as if he expected someone to jump out at him as bits of his dream refused to be completely kicked away.

The piece of paper had not been there when he’d gone to bed last night.  Perhaps it was a message from Tomas.

“Yes, yes,” he whispered as he tiptoed over to where the folded paper lay.  “Tomas, Tomas, what have you left for me?”

But it wasn’t from Tomas.

Martin stared at the address on the piece of paper.  He turned it over, but there was nothing else written on it.  His eyes widened with a soft, swift intake of breath as he flipped it back over and looked at the address once more.

A wicked smile parted his lips.  “Oh my,” he breathed excitedly.  “What luck, what luck.”  Somehow he’d gotten himself a guardian angel, he thought.  “Time to go hunting.” The sensations in his brain and body overwhelmed and he finally giggled as he hurried into the bathroom to get ready.

~*~

Rachel was rudely awakened from a deep sleep by the phone ringing.  She tried to ignore it, knowing Gabriel would answer it, but after the fifth ring, she frowned and forced her eyes open.  The early morning light lit the room enough to show that Gabriel was not in bed with her and upon careful listening, she deduced that he wasn’t in the shower either.

Sitting up, she wearily pushed her hair out of her face wondering where he was and reached for the phone, not once considering the fact that she probably shouldn’t. 

“Hello?” she answered just as she spotted the note sitting on Gabriel’s pillow.

Frowning, she reached for it, not paying attention at first to the fact that the caller did not respond to her greeting.

“Hello,” she tried again as she cradled the hand-piece between her cheek and shoulder so she could open the folded piece of paper.

“Who is this?” a male voice suddenly demanded, his tone harsh and angry.

Startled from her distracted state, Rachel nearly dropped the phone, the note floating to the mattress in her attempt to keep from dropping the hand-piece.

“Rachel,” she answered before she could think to stop herself.  She winced, silently thinking that Gabriel was probably going to wring her neck once he discovered she’d not only answered his phone, but had carelessly given out her name without thought.

Silence met her reply and she had begun to think that maybe the caller had hung up, but then he asked, “Where is Gabriel?”

“Who are you?” she asked, suddenly suspicious of the mysterious and rude caller.

“That is none of your damn business, lady, now put Gabriel on the phone.”

First thing she realized was this guy knew Gabriel’s name.  Gabriel had told her that nobody knew his real name except his family.  The second thing she realized was that this guy had an accent similar to Gabriel’s and she wondered if he might be Gabriel’s cousin.  But she couldn’t trust in that.  Not with Gabriel’s safety at stake.

“I’m not putting anyone on the phone until you tell me who you are,” she demanded with false bravado.  Truthfully, she was scared to death.  For all she knew, she’d just pissed off one of Gabriel’s Mafia connections.  That thought terrified her and she prayed silently that she was wrong.

More silence, then came the quiet reply, “You’ve got a lot of nerve, lady,” followed by a soft chuckle.  “But I gotta say, that Gabriel was right, though… you're a tiger.”

A lull followed, then, “I'm George, Gabriel’s cousin.”

Rachel nearly cried at the relief that flooded through her body.  Her hands were shaking so badly she could barely keep from dropping the phone.

“Oh, thank God,” she whispered softly.  “I was so afraid I’d just pissed off some Mafia guy.”

George laughed loudly at that.  “Hmm, never been confused for the Mafia before, but I really would like to speak with Gabriel now.  It’s very important.”

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, her nerves finally settled some.  “And I would love to let you speak with him, but I don’t think he’s here.”

“He’s not there?” George responded in surprise.  “And what do you mean; you think he’s not there?  Didn’t he tell you he was going somewhere?”

“Well, I would have thought he would…” Rachel paused when she caught sight of the folded piece of paper again.  It had fallen off the bed and lay on the floor next to it.  “Oh, wait, I think he may have left me a note, hang on.”

Rachel put the phone down and leaned over the side of the bed and snatched up the note. 

Quickly unfolding the paper, she began reading:

My dearest Rachel,

By the time you read this, it will be done.  I am sorry, but I cannot allow Stone to live, not with yours and Abigail’s lives at stake.

It was a nice dream – the thought of us being a family – but it is a dream that I shall never see fulfilled.  You cannot live in my world and I cannot possibly live in yours.  I’ve lived a violent life, one that I know you do not want Abigail exposed too.  I can hardly say that I blame you.

I hope someday you can forgive me.  I hope someday you will understand and know that I did this for your own safety, out of the love that I have for you and Abigail.

When it is done, I will simply disappear and you will never see me again.  I wish you and Abigail well and hope you both have a happy life.

I will love you always,

G 

“Oh my God, no!”  Rachel felt panic rising up in her chest.  “Gabriel, no!” she cried softly, tears filling her eyes.

“What is it?”  George called out on the other end of the phone.  “Rachel?  What’s happened?  Where has he gone?”

She lifted the receiver to her ear once more and tried to clear her panicked thoughts.  “He’s gone after Martin.  He promised me he wouldn’t do it, but he has.”

“He’s what?” George asked stunned suddenly feeling uneasy.

Caught up in her own worries, Rachel didn’t notice the change in George’s tone.  “He broke his promise to me,” she spoke softly, her heart breaking.  “He promised me he wouldn’t kill anymore.  He promised me.”

George wasn’t sure what to tell Rachel.  He was in new territory himself where Gabriel was concerned, but right then his only concern was to get Rachel out of that apartment.  “Rachel, listen to me.  You have to get out of there.”

“What?  What do you mean?”

“I didn’t realize that Gabriel had brought you there.  I didn’t know he would go hunting for Stone and leave you there alone.  You have to get out.”

“I don’t understand,” she began then paused.  “Wait… somebody is at the door.  Maybe it’s Gabriel.”

“What?” George frowned.  Gabriel wouldn’t knock at his own apartment.  A heavy sense of foreboding hit George in the gut and he suddenly knew who it was.  “No, wait, Rachel, don’t answer that door!”

But it was too late.

~*~

Rachel quickly set the phone down on the bed and snatched up the first thing she could find, which was Gabriel’s robe. She slipped it on, belting it at her waist as she hurried into the living room to the front door.  George's screams of warning faded with each step that brought her closer to the knock at the door.

“Gabriel?”

Without bothering to check first, she unlocked the door and yanked it open, hoping that he had changed his mind and had come back to her.

Instead she came face to face with the one man who wanted her dead.

“Martin…”

“Good morning, Rachel,” Martin grinned triumphantly.  “Gabriel, is it?  I’m sure the FBI would be very interested in finding out that bit of information, hmmm?”

Rachel couldn’t move for a moment, she was so stunned at seeing Martin, she could only stand there and stare.  But when he made a move to grab her, she jumped, trying to slam the door in his face. 

“Get away from me,” she screamed and turned to run back into the bedroom, fear making her heart pound wildly in her chest.

Martin laughed wildly as he hit the front door, causing it to swing forward and slam against the wall.  He gave chase, following her into the bedroom where he tackled her to the floor.

Rachel screamed and tried to twist away from him, but his heavier body pinned her down and kept her from getting away.  She screamed again, trying to buck her body beneath his in an attempt to knock him away.

“Shut up, you bitch!” he screamed at her and reared his fist back and swung, catching her across the jaw and snapping her head back with a loud pop.

Rachel felt the pain explode in her head and then darkness consumed her.

~*~

George listened in stunned silence.  He waited until he was certain that Stone had left the apartment with Rachel in tow, then he hung up.  He had to find Gabriel… now!

He quickly dialed Gabriel’s cell phone and cursed up a blue streak when the voice mail kicked in.  “Emergency!” he said when the beep sounded.  “Call me.”

He hung up the pay phone and went to sit down in an empty chair close by so he could hear it ring.  Gabriel would know where to call him.

“Everything all right, George?”

Glancing up at his brother Charlie as he set a mug of beer down in front of him, George reached out to grasp the mug in his hands and was surprised to see them shaking.  “He’s gonna kill me,” he whispered.

Charlie frowned.  “Who?”

“Gabriel.”

Charlie relaxed a bit and smiled.  “Aww, come on… shucks, George, he’s been pissed at you before and everything has been fine.”

George shook his head slowly from side to side, “No, not this time.”  He gazed over at the phone, silently ordering it to ring.  Damn it, Gabriel… call me back!

Charlie studied his brother a long moment and then slid into the chair across from him.  “What’s happened?”

“I may have just gotten his woman killed.”

Charlie blanched.  “Sweet Jesus,” he whispered softly, crossing himself.  “Want me to call the airlines and see when the next flight out of here to Italy is?”

George considered it a moment, but then shook his head.  “No,” he answered then took a deep breath.  The pay phone began to ring and both men jumped and turned to stare at it. 

“I did this and now I gotta fix it.”

Slowly, he rose to his feet and went to answer the phone… to confess to Gabriel what he'd done and to pray his cousin wouldn’t kill him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Hitman – Chapter 13 (coming soon)