Page 32 of Payback
Chapter 17
-Jared-
While I was familiar with Vince’s first name, others who sought his services knew him as The Hunter. They enlisted his help for various tasks, but most often, they called on him to eliminate troublesome individuals—those who stood in the way of others. It wasn’t always a matter of death. Sometimes, he simply orchestrated their downfall. Where else could I have drawn my inspiration from? It emanated from the heart of darkness itself.
I ascended the white stone steps, rapping on the door. It creaked open, revealing a housemaid. We exchanged no words as I entered the mansion, my helmet held in my hand. I climbed one of the half-circle staircases, allowing my fingers to trail along the golden railing. Memories flooded back, recalling the first time I had done just that. Vince was a master of shadows, a man who knew how to dwell in the darkness. This house had been his haven for as long as I could remember, yet he owned other sanctuaries around the world. While the very sight of the house could send shivers down anyone’s spine, it bestowed upon me a sense of tranquility. Once, it had been the only refuge I had discovered. The sole place where I could escape sleeping with a knife beneath my pillow, should my father stagger into my room. Or perhaps that wasn’t accurate. The habit of sleeping with a weapon never quite disappeared. Vince wasn’t without his share of enemies—those who sought to destroy his empire or simply wanted to obliterate the obstacle he posed. So, the knife remained, yet I no longer harbored dread of the same monster barging into my room, drunk and unhinged. Here, within these walls, I tasted a freedom I had never before experienced. Here, I discovered what it meant not to be used in the same way, but to understand how to wield power.
Upon reaching the top of the staircase, I ascended yet another flight before arriving at a lengthy corridor. I traversed its length until I reached a pair of imposing double doors. I knocked on one, the resonating sound soon to be replaced by Vince’s distinctive dark voice from within. I pushed the door open, entering and subsequently shutting it behind me. As anticipated, he sat in his chair, engrossed in significant documents that I had no knowledge of what contained. A smile curved his lips as he noticed my entrance. He lowered the paper in his grasp, a subtle tremor betraying the illness that had taken root within him.
“Ah, there you are, Jared,” he greeted. “You’re never late.”
“It’s a special day,” I reminded him.
“Special,” he mused, trying to decipher my words. Then realization dawned on him, remembering the phase of my plan I had now reached. “Is she with you now?”
“She is,” I confirmed.
“And here I am, pulling you away from the pleasures of your games.”
“I come when you call,” I replied.
“You do. That’s why I like you,” he remarked, pointing at me, his hand trembling. He noticed the tremor and stretched his hand, a futile attempt to still it—a gesture that anyone who hadn’t come to terms with their diagnosis would make.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“I feel like an old man,” he replied with a teasing smile.
“Fortunately, medicine is always—”
“Save me the lecture, Jared,” he sighed, raising his shaking hand. “I’m well aware of the strides medicine has made, and while my Parkinson’s is slow to progress, it’s progressing. With or without medication, I’m going to die.”
“But you’re taking your medicine, right?” I asked.
His smile widened. “Concerned about me, son?”
“Not at all. Just waiting to see when the seat will be ready for me.”
He burst into laughter, giving a nod of approval.
“Who says you’ll even be next?” he teased, eliciting a smile from me.
Vince had no reason to fear me. Although I relished the comfort and warmth this house had provided me, I had no aspirations of stepping into his shoes. He could choose another successor to carry on his legacy in due course. It was unfortunate that he had received such a diagnosis. He always appeared so unyielding, and now something internal was waging a battle against him. I had expected his downfall to come in the form of a bullet or a concealed blade—perhaps a fatal beating—but no, now his own body was betraying him, ultimately leading to his demise. However, I couldn’t see Vince accepting the aid of others, languishing in a nursing home. More likely, he’d take matters into his own hands long before it reached that point. He would accomplish what I hadn’t been able to—a fate for which I was now profoundly grateful. The pleasure of administering this sweet revenge was immeasurable. I was relieved I hadn’t succumbed to ending it all, as it allowed me to truly find the peace I had yearned for.
“You’re right. Maybe I should just kill you now and take it,” I replied playfully.
His smile took on a darker edge. “Prefer you over some bastard out there I don’t even know.”
“You always did say there was more honor in being killed by a friend.”
“I did say that. There is,” he concurred, nodding as he recollected imparting that wisdom to me. “At least I wouldn’t feel ashamed that a stranger managed to get so close to me. I can envision a friend stabbing me in the back, but a street thug? I’ll pass.”
I offered a slight nod, a small smile playing on my lips. Yet in the depths of my heart, a pang of sadness resonated, acknowledging that his time on this earth had been shortened. He wasn’t the same young man I had encountered. Time had flowed on, and we both had grown older. The future remained in uncertainty, and sometimes its revelations left us stunned.
“So is that why you needed me? Are you ready for death?” I asked.
“I have been ready for a long time,” he replied, the dim light making him seem truly a part of the darkness, as if it had claimed half his face.
“Then,” I began, taking one of my guns, which made him laugh and shake his head.
