God, It Must Be Torture

Part 7

The room held its breath as Greg treaded arrogantly toward Ryan in anticipation of the information about to be given. Finally, after three long hours of putting up with these insufferable morons, he was going to have the golden ticket and Lester would reward him with treasures beyond his wildest dreams. Finally.

Meanwhile, as Greg advanced forward, Jack's lip trembled as she bit back unexpected tears. She could feel her stone heart shattering because she felt completely and utterly helpless. Jack had put so much faith in Ryan, the man who taught her how to handle pain, how to bluff through it, and all that was essential for survival. He helped her fine tune her strengths and how to utilize her weaknesses to her advantage. He made her believe in herself.

Now, looking at him with his smug grin and pompous attitude, Jack had never felt so betrayed. He was her friend, their friend; how could he cast them aside like that?

All the while, Ryan's face never changed when the lead Satan advanced. The tension between them was killing everyone, and no one knew exactly what Ryan would say. The fact that Ryan caved that quickly was unnerving, and Gavin didn't believe him for one second.

"You better spit it out, Vagabond," Greg threatened, machete still in hand.

"Okay, okay...the money is around the corner, down an alley, and up your dumb ass," Ryan responded calmly, smirking like the Cheshire cat.

The FAHC let out an audible sigh of relief. Un-fucking-believable. Ryan had led them on once again, and the room was sent into a spiral of emotions. Jack was either about to start laughing or crying, but Team Nice Dynamite beat her to it. Their gut-twisting laughs echoed off the warehouse walls, and gave the air a false sense of lightness. No matter how weightless Geoff felt, he knew that there was something more sinister to come as a result of Ryan's action.

The Vagabond joined Michael and Gavin in their breathless laughing fit. "Come on, Greg," he said in between his breaths for air. "I followed these four into this fucking warehouse for a couple thousand dollars and three kilos of meth, even though I had suspicions about the validity of the mission, and got taken down by you seven morons. Did you really think that I'd sell out my team that quickly? You idiot, you fell for it."

He threw his head back and chuckled loudly with Michael chiming in as well. Then he glanced over at Jack and saw the seriousness in her features. And as soon as he started laughing, he stopped once he faced Greg again. Ryan's playful smile disappeared when he glimpsed something snap inside the lead Satan.

The man's eye began twitching, and his face was frozen in its stoic expression. His complexion was turning an unattractive shade of red as his rage boiled inside him, and he was physically shaking.

Greg straightened his back, turned away from the Vagabond and set his sights on Boss Man. Geoff tried to move away from the advancing figure, but the chair and restraints prevented him from doing so. He fidgeted as Greg threw down the machete and took up another smaller blade.

Jack screamed. "No don't-"

But it was too late. Greg thrust the blade into Geoff's chest and twisted it aggressively.

Geoff choked on his breath, and tears started to well up in his eyes. The pain was unlike what he expected it to be; never before had he been stabbed, and he made it a goal in his career as a criminal not to ever have it happen to him. It hurt to breathe, his lungs were struggling to keep his blood from entering, and his heart was picking up speed to pump the blood to parts of his body to survive.

Shocked, Geoff glanced up at the man seething with anger. "Wha-wha-" he attempted to say.

"You wanna know something, douche wad?" Greg began as he released the knife from his grip, leaving the fatal instrument in Boss Man's chest. He was level with Geoff now and sneered in his face. "I know virtually every little thing about your crew. I know where Gavin's first successful robbery took place after failing at least eight times. I know that he hides nude magazines under his bed like a 13 year-old boy. I know where his girlfriend Meg goes to yoga at 10 every Tuesday morning.

"I know Michael goes to the gym at 8 o'clock each night after dinner with his girl Lindsay. I know where he went to school; where his first job was, and that his mother's missing person's case continues to be, and will always remain unsolved.

"Little Miss Jackie over here loves the color lavender, orange tabby cats, and mocha lattes. I know where she met you for the first time 12 years ago, and I know she likes to go to the Los Santos pier every Wednesday night to watch the sunset with her partner, Caiti."

"Stop it!" Geoff said.

"And as for Ryan," Greg continued, "well, he first shot a man at the young age of 14 when his mother was killed during a mugging. I know where he first kissed a girl, his favorite guilty pleasure is the Real Housewives of Orange County, and that he hoards Twinkies like a fucking chipmunk. There is nothing that I don't know."

"So why are you saying all this now?" Gavin wondered. "I'll bet you don't know a thing about Geoff."

"Gavin!" Ryan shouted. "Don't encourage him!"

"Oh it's all to prove a point," Greg admitted. "And let me tell you, Gavin, Geoff cried at the end of Titanic, he sleeps with a night light, and he beats himself up nearly everyday because the responsibility for all of your lives weighs on him constantly. He can never forgive himself for Ray's death, since he deliberately killed him after all."

"That's a lie!" Michael screamed.

"Oh is it?" Greg asked sarcastically. "Because from my point of view, Geoff looked me straight in the eye as he sent Ray out into the open. I saw it all."

"You-you-you wha...?"  Geoff asked weakly. He glanced past Greg and saw Jack shaking her head in confusion.

"That's right, I saw the whole event play out," Greg boasted. Then he sunk into a crouching position in front of the dying boss, and grinned, showing his grimy mouth and yellowing teeth. "This is the best part, you know, what I'm about to tell you? God I've been waiting for this moment the entire time we were torturing you and your crew. I saw X-Ray die from behind the trigger."

"No, no, no!" Geoff wailed. He kicked his feet at the man but it was futile; he was getting weaker and weaker.

"You bastard! You absolute toss pot!" Gavin hollered. "You killed X-Ray! I'll kill you myself once I get out of this!"

"Motherfucker, I'm coming after you the next chance I get!" Michael added on.

Jack shouted incoherently as she struggled to get to her feet. The two Satans guarding them were distracted by the information that Greg had dealt out, and were unaware of the commotion going on behind them.

"Jack," Ryan warned sternly. "Don't you dare."

"Fuck you, Ryan, I'll tear him a new one," she retorted, planting one foot firmly on the ground.

"Jackie," Geoff commanded feebly, "sit your ass down, I can handle this." But he knew that he was going to die. Greg removed the knife from his chest and he could feel the blood flow out of him at a rapid pace. He was growing colder and colder with every breath he took.

"You and I both know that you won't make it to see the end of your crew." Greg said to him. "You might as well tell me where you hid the money before you're down for good."

Geoff shook his head. "Never."

"Fine then," Greg shrugged. "Then you'll suffer through one last torture." He motioned for his crew to grab a struggling Vav, and rubbed his hands together. "Today is the day, boys, that the Los Santos Satans take down the Fake AH Crew once and for all."

"Think again, asshat," a voice rang out from the shadows.