He pulled back, humming, coming down from his high. Autumn, still wiping away her tears, attempted to get up, but he gently halted her, his voice soft and persuasive, "Stay," he urged, his eyes pleading with her to remain by his side.
"I have work to do," she replied, leaning away from him and reaching for her disheveled shirt.
"I am the boss, baby," he reminded her, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "And a good boss doesn't punish his star employee for taking a little break," he whispered as he brushed his thumb against her bottom lip, his touch electric.
"I think you should see a doctor," she suggested, pushing gently against him as she stood up.
"Do you want me to?" Zyler inquired, mirroring her actions and rising to his feet. Autumn nodded, her actions and words potentially signaling the beginning of a more civil relationship between them. A pleased smile spread across Zyler's lips; perhaps there was hope for a change in their dynamic.
Autumn walked out as Cole stepped inside, "guess who was spotted meeting Matt?" He threw his iPad on the broken desk.
Zyler wiped the blood from his lips as Cole continued, "Liam was spotted outside Matt's house. I also hacked into Matt's call records. He has been poking more into Autumn's background. He hasn't accessed immigration records. If he does, he will know her full name and all."
Zyler sighed, "It is time that mother fucker died," he declared, his fingers tightening around the glass of whiskey as he poured it, the liquid splashing with a sharp hiss. "Tonight, I want him dead. My own fucking hands. Make arrangements." He grabbed a new shirt and put it on.
..........................
Liam didn't bother waiting for his car to come to a complete stop. He killed the engine and stormed into Matt's house like a wild horse, leaving a trail of bloody footprints with every step he took.
He walked into the living room only to see a girl getting up from her kneeling position. Matt turned his head to the sound and scoffed, "You look like you have been fucked by a ghost."
Liam cringed at the girl's age and Matt's age. He wrinkled his nose, looking at Matt's ugly skin. His liver spots were prominent, making him look like a prickled prune. Ugly on the outside and tasteless on the inside.
"What happened to you?" he asked, handing a glass of whiskey to Liam.
"That isn't your fucking concern," Liam snatched the glass from Matt's arms, spilling some drink in the process.
"Zyler," a knowing smile crept up Matt's lips. "If anyone can get a reaction out of you, it is that man," he took out an ice pack and handed it to Liam, who took it without protest.
"I want to know about this girl in Zyler's office," Liam slumped into a chair. "She was the only one on his floor, not even Cole."
"If you are asking about Willow, she is a sweet little thing, right?" Matt began casually, sitting beside Liam and leisurely sipping his rum. Liam couldn't help but notice a wicked and disturbing grin stretching across Matt's face. A shiver of disgust coursed through Liam's body, his reaction mirroring the unsettling feeling that Matt's presence elicited.
"She is so hot. Man, what wouldn't I give to have her," Matt twirled his glass, looking into the distance.
"What do you know about her?" Liam was curious. Her uncanny resemblance to his wife struck Liam like a bolt of lightning. Immediately, when he saw Autumn peeking out of her cabin, he had mistaken her for April. The similarities were so striking like they were twins separated at birth.
But the puzzle pieces didn't fit. April repeatedly claimed that her sister's name was Elena Miller, and she had met a tragic end with her family scattered. But he had never believed her, always harboring suspicions that she was lying. Now, delving into Willow's background might finally give him the necessary answers to locate his missing wife.
"Not much. She appeared out of the blue after he returned from England," Matt's curiosity peaked. "I saw her last time I was in his office. I sensed a lot of possessiveness in him," Matt knew a man who was obsessed with pussy. He had seen his fair share of men losing their battles to mere pussies. "Why are you so interested in her?"
"I have this nagging feeling that Zyler Stone has a lot at stake, and it all starts with her," Liam growled as he slammed the ice pack onto his face, his pain-filled hiss echoing in the room. Matt arched an intrigued eyebrow.
"I had the same hunch," he remarked, setting his whiskey glass down and leaning forward." he put his whiskey glass down and leaned forward. His beard was drenched in rum. "I want to make you a deal, Liam," he burped like a Godzilla trying to relieve its constipation. "I will help you take Zyler down," he poured more rum for himself. "And in return, all I ask for is her." Extending his hand for Liam to shake. "Take your revenge, but give her to me." a hopeful glint shimmered in his eyes.
Liam's eyes darted between Matt's face and his hand. "I don't make deals, Matt. You know that" Liam was in desperate need of help. Every minute he was away from April, his breath was winding as if he was locked in an underground cave filled with water to the brim, but he couldn't let that known, and if he did, that would mean letting April's presence known to Matt.
"Well, the only way you would get help is to take my offer," Matt replied with a steely resolve.
He got up, wiping, throwing the icepack on the floor. "Very well," Liam resisted, punching Matt in his balls.
"Her name is Willow Sumner," Matt wrote on the paper. "I think Zyler had a fake identity created for her. I have a feeling she isn't Willow. I looked everywhere, but there wasn't an ounce of information."
Liam scoffed. Of course, his pea brain wouldn't try to look at her immigration records. Nobody can fake those, no matter what.
Liam didn't bother to thank Matt. He walked out of Matt's house. He dialed the immigration officer. "I want to know every woman named Willow who entered this country in the last three years."
He hopped in his car and drove away. He forcefully swung the door open. A text message notification chimed, revealing an attached file and a photo accompanied by birth records. His fingers swiftly activated the computer, and he eagerly opened the received file, his attention immediately drawn to the photo affixed at the top, an image he couldn't tear his gaze away from.
April. She looked just like April when she was healthy. The only difference is the eyes. Autumn's eyes displayed a captivating array of colors, starkly contrasting April's serene blue gaze. "Autumn Willow Wraith," read the name. "So, her name is Willow, but not just that," Liam mumbled. "What else are you hiding, Autumn?" he scrolled down the file and found an exciting location.
She was from England then. Typing her name in the search engine, he waited for the page to load. Nothing was exciting about her except one article she had written about a missing girl. Georgina. He skimmed the article with keen eyes. Every word in that article conveyed pain and heartbreak as if the missing girl's disappearance had hurt her personally. There was an undeniable beauty in her writing as if she had been capturing the essence of April in her words.
Could Autumn possibly be April's sister? Liam pondered this question, leaning back in his chair and shutting his eyes, frustration mounting until he banged his head with his fist. "There must be a way," he muttered, gripping his hair in exasperation. Then, in a sudden flash of insight, it struck him.
"The shards," he exclaimed, leaping from his seat and sprinting toward the room where April had tragically stabbed herself. He didn't let anyone clean that room, as he wanted it to remain the same. He wanted her essence to stay in that room. He didn't want some stupid cleaners to touch her sacred space.
He called his assistant, "I need this shard examined," as he handed it to his staff member. "Contact the CDC immediately and request a quarantine of Zyler's facility. Gather blood samples from all his employees. I mean every single one of them. If they resist, take the extreme step of shutting the building down. Arrange for a team of scientists, and if necessary, create a pretext about an infectious disease outbreak within the facility. I don't care. What I do care about is getting the DNA of all his employees tested and comparing it with this sample." Ruben shook his head.
"The CDC?" Ruben's eyes widened. "Why will they do it, Sir?" He argued, not wanting to be the one to raise panic in the public.
"I am the fucking senator. They will do what I want. If not, I will chop their funding," Liam punched the wall. "I ordered it. Tell those dogs." He barked like one.
"I will get this done," he took the shard and placed it in a plastic bag.
"I will have your head, Zyler," he locked the door and walked out.
......................
Zyler became aware of the nurse entering the room. "You should get some rest, Mr. Stone," the young woman in her early twenties said, her cheeks turning slightly pink as she handed him the prescription. Throughout her interactions with him, the girl blushed repeatedly, not crossing any professional boundaries but displaying a genuine interest in him. He wished his girl was there to witness it. Would she be jealous? He had seen sad, bold, almost murderous Autumn, but he hadn't caught the jealous side of her.
"You need to get on dating apps, darling. Men like me aren't for everyone," he grabbed his jacket and threw it over his shoulder. Indeed, men like him aren't for everyone. Only his Atty can handle him. Besides, he had a life to take tonight.
As Zyler stepped out, he noticed that the sun began going below the horizon. He fixed his eyes on the setting sun. With a heart pounding like a funeral dirge, Zyler swung open the creaking door of his car, the metallic screech echoing through the lonely streets. He leaped into the vehicle, the leather seats seemingly alive with a sinister energy, as if aware of the sinister mission ahead.
The engine roared to life with a guttural growl, and Zyler's grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles white against the dim glow of the dashboard. The car seemed alive, a vicious beast ready to carry out its master's dark bidding.
As Zyler sped through the shadowy streets, the moon, a pale specter in the sky, offered no solace, casting eerie, shifting patterns of light and darkness on his path. He killed the engine and walked onto Matt's porch.
With a deft touch, Zyler turned off the alarm system, allowing silence to reclaim Matt's seemingly secure fortress. As he stepped onto Matt's porch, it creaked under his weight, its groans a whispered warning of the horrors that lay beyond.
Zyler crossed the threshold into the house, his footsteps echoing in the oppressive silence. The dimly lit hallway stretched out like a corridor to the unknown, its shadows concealing the malevolence that lurked within—the countless girls who shed their tears and lost their lives.
He moved cautiously as if treading on the precipice of a bottomless abyss. The walls seemed to close in on him, the portraits and decor watching with unblinking eyes, bearing witness to his clandestine intrusion.
As he pushed open the door to Matt's room, the dim light from the moon revealed an unexpected sight. There, on the floor, lay a young girl dressed in scanty clothes, her tear-streaked face contorted with anguish. She had been crying in the shadows, unseen by the world.
The creaking of a floorboard under Zyler's cautious approach caused her to jolt awake, her eyes widening with fear. With a calm gesture, he signaled for her to remain silent and motioned for her to wait outside the room.
The girl, filled with trepidation, nodded in understanding and, trembling, slowly rose to her feet and tiptoed away from the room.
The room reverberated with the unrelenting chorus of Matt's grotesque, ear-splitting snores. A sly smile played on Zyler's lips as he reached into his pocket, retrieving a whip. With a swift and practiced motion, he cracked it like a horseman, the sharp sound slicing through the night and jolting Matt awake from his slumber.
"Zyler," Matt mumbled, rubbing his eyes and struggling to focus on the looming figure before him. Zyler had his right foot casually rested on the edge of the bed, a wicked smirk playing on his lips while his whip dangled ominously from one hand.
"Rise and shine, you colossal dickhead. Your death chariot awaits," he roared.
"What the fuck?" Matt tried hopping down, but Zyler cracked his whip, purposefully missing the man.
"Oh, what's the matter, Matt? Feeling jumpy, are we?" Zyler taunted, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he boldly leaped onto the bed. "If you so much as twitch, you'll decorate this room red. How's that for a morning surprise?"
"What do you want?" Matt screamed, trying to call his security.
"Poor, helpless Matty," Zyler sneered, cracking his knuckles ominously. "All your hired guards seem to be enjoying a peaceful slumber."
Matt attempted to negotiate, desperation tinging his voice. "Why are you here?" he implored.
Zyler's laughter rang with a mocking edge. "Oh, Matt, you always were the curious one. Isn't it glaringly obvious? I've graced your presence today for either option A – a swift and merciful death, or option B – a death so excruciatingly painful it'll haunt your nightmares." He drew satisfaction from the way Matt was shivering like a leaf in a hurricane.
"All because you dared to stick your nose into my beloved Autumn's business," he hissed, his gloved hands seizing the lamppost and shattering the light, his gloves glinting ominously in the fractured illumination. "How's that for clarity, Matt?"
"I will give you anything. Please don't kill me," he pleaded.
"Okay, I will let you go. But I want something out of you," he sat on the bed, working on the wooden lamppost.
"Were you there, Matt? The night Varney and Ryle raped my mother?" He cracked the whip on Matt's back. Matt's eyes bulged out of the sockets.
"Varney told us you lost your memory," after Zyler ended Varney's men. He collapsed on the ground, and when he woke up, he claimed he had no memory of the past.
"Well. Dumb fuck. I acted. Obviously, your brain is smaller than your balls," Zyler rolled his eyes in annoyance. How can this dumb fuck miss that detail? "Now tell me. Were you?" he demanded.
"Yes. I was." Matt screamed like a dog, rubbing the spot that the whip touched. "Did you do it?" He grabbed his knife and began shaping the lamppost into a trident.
"I didn't," he rolled on the bed in pain from the whiplash. "I am only into young girls. You know that," he kneeled before Zyler, clutching his feet.
"Is that why you wanted Autumn?" his anger boiling over. In a swift and forceful motion, he punched squarely on Matt's nose, the impact crack resonating through the room like a thunderclap.
"Yes," he pleaded.
"But, I swear, I didn't do anything. I didn't touch your mother. Please spare me," he touched Zyler's feet with his head, and Zyler whipped Matt again.
"You didn't stop it either (whip, whip, whip)." The sheets turned bloody with Matt's blood, and Zyler's boots turned sloppy with Matt's saliva.
"This," Zyler hissed through gritted teeth, "is the extent of mercy I'll grant you." In a brutal display of ruthless determination, Zyler acted with lethal precision. With a vicious thrust, he drove the trident deep into Matt's stomach, the force of the impact echoing through the room like a dark symphony of suffering.
Matt's anguished cry pierced the air, a chilling testament to the excruciating pain coursing through him. The trident pinned him, impaling his body with an eerie finality, like a moth trapped on a collector's board.
Blood flowed freely from the gruesome wound, a stark reminder of the evil act that had transpired. The once serene painting above the bedpost now bore witness to this grotesque scene, its colors tainted by the crimson stain of violence.
Zyler's eyes glinted with a cold, remorseless satisfaction as he held Matt in this nightmarish tableau of torment and despair, his dark intentions fulfilled in a chilling crescendo of brutality.
Nancy, who was standing outside the room, smiled in satisfaction as a teardrop rolled out of her eyes.
I hope you enjoyed it. See you all in a week.