VERY UNEDITED PROLOGUE OF LAUREL HEIGHTS 3

                                                               

PROLOGUE

Holding the lighter under the bowl of the spoon, he watched, fascinated, as the white powder began to crystalize and melt into the water under the heat of the flame. He smiled; this was good shit, the best that money could buy—he should know, he’d paid enough for it. Not that he minded. His father had always said, “If you want to do a job right, you need to make sure you have the right tools.” He glanced at the array of… tools… on the table, the best that money could buy. Each one designed to do exactly what he needed it to do. He closed the lighter and shoved it in his pocket, then picked up the syringe.

With a steady hand, he dipped the needle into the mix and slowly pulled back the plunger. When he was satisfied all the liquid had been drawn into the syringe, he lifted it up to the light. His heartbeat quickened and the blood rushed in his ears. He’d thought about this moment for so long, and now the wait would soon be at an end.

He picked up the rubber tourniquet and turned, his lips curving as the man’s eyes widened comically, and he tried to scream from behind the gag he’d used to quiet him. His fear was palpable. It rolled off him in waves. Had done from the moment he’d sat up on the back seat of his car and ordered him to drive. He stank of it. Good. He should be afraid. Even more afraid than she’d been, because he’d know it was coming.

He walked slowly towards him, his footsteps heavy on the flagstone floor, the sound deliciously ominous as it echoed around the small space. He liked it. Gave the proceedings a film noir vibe, ramped up the anticipation. From the sheer terror in the man’s eyes as he watched his every move, he could tell he wasn’t the only one who felt it. That was good, too.

He stopped in front of the chair he’d strapped him to and, keeping his tone conversational, said, “I’m going to take off the gag. You can scream if you want to—I’d be surprised if you didn’t—but no one will hear you, and it won’t change how this is going to end. You should know that. Just in case you were hanging onto any hope that you’ll get out of here alive—you won’t” He loosened the gag and pulled it down, so it sat around the man’s neck like a shabby bandana.

“W-what d-do you w-want from m-me?” The man stammered over the words, his lips trembling.

“Retribution.”

“Retribution?” The man shook his head. “F-for what? I-I didn’t d-do anything.”

He tied the tourniquet around the man’s upper arm and pulled it tight. “Neither did she.”

“I d-don’t—” He held the syringe up to the light and pressed the plunger gently, sending a thin arc of liquid into the air. “No, don’t.” The man tried to pull his arm away as he tapped the bulging veins that stood proud beneath his skin. “Stop, please, please. I-I’ll give you money. I-I’ll do anything you want, please, please don’t.” The man’s voice cracked, the tears rolling from the corners of his eyes as he pleaded for his life.

He laid the point of the needle against his arm and, with a little pressure, broke the skin and slid into the vein beyond. His heart raced, so loud in his ears he could barely hear the man beg. And he wanted him to beg. God, he wanted him to beg.

“I-I didn’t do anything!”

“I know,” he said softly. “That’s why we’re here. Because you didn’t do anything.”

“I don’t u-understand.”

“You will.”

He leaned in and pressed his lips to the man’s ear and pushed on the plunger. The name he whispered as the heroin surged into the man’s blood stream was the last he would ever hear. A name that filled the man’s eyes with a sudden understanding, horror and a strange sort of acceptance. Almost as if he’d known this day would come. He smiled as the man began to slip into unconsciousness.

He was right. This day would come. Had come. It would be coming for all of them.