The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Lost Toys

Chapter 19 — A Night to Remember

“Fuck! Does it feel good to be out of there!” Serge growled as he pulled Raena off her seat and across her lap. The guy had been an ass all night. I wondered about Raena again. Zack let me snuggle in closer. He gave me his wavery little smile.

“Do you guys want to hit a drive thru and get any food?” Raena looked over to us. Her hair was so pretty tonight. She had her tiara tied through a twist of golden curls that eventually fell around her face in ringlets. The dull brown waves I had paid so much for hadn’t survived the dancing. I tried not to be envious, Raena and I had been best friends since we met in kindergarten.

“I could go for a bite,” Zack looked to me and I nodded.

“Fuck that. We’re not putting the best part of this off any longer,” Serge shook his head, “If you need something to eat, call for room service.”

“Alright,” Zack replied meekly. I was excited to get to the hotel. I had been waiting for this since we had decided at Christmas tonight would be our night. I loved Zack. Tonight would be way more special than even the story Raena had told me about her first time. I got why Raena was looking to delay it. She seemed to have dug Serge up from God knows where. I had offered to set her up with one of Zack’s friends, but she had been adamant about this neanderthal.

“OK,” I agreed laying my head on Zack’s shoulder, “We’ll go straight to the hotel.”

I was so giddy. I was surprised my dad was so permissive about this. Actually, when he had found out I was saving my first time for prom he had been proud. Mom had wanted me to take Zack back to my room but Dad said I was going to be an adult and I would need my freedom. He had booked the hotel room for me and Zack. Raena told me how she got Dad to book her the room across from ours but I’m pretty sure not all of her stories are true. Mom would’ve killed her.

“You two look perfect together, Tiff,” Raena beamed at me. Serge rolled his eyes and went to looking at the straps and zipper of Raena’s sleek pink dress. It was perfect for her when she first tried it on. I still thought it looked great but Raena had bitched all afternoon that she had overtanned for it. She wasn’t as dark as me, but quite a bit darker than I had ever seen her. Well, I was always leaned towards mom’s Iroquois than dad’s English side.

The one thing I was thrilled about was that I loved my dress, and Zack did too. I loved the dark violet and the even how the bodice (it had a bodice not just a top!) pinched my waist into the hourglass shape. The skirt was snaked back and forth as I walked rippling around my legs. Zach said I had amazing legs. I figured they were too short and he was too nice but, right this minute, I was so happy. I fingered the pink rose corsage on my wrist. Serge had lost or discarded his boutonnière some time ago and the white lily on Raena’s arm was a last moment purchase by Zack.

“Aren’t limos supposed to supply Champagne?” Serge asked. He was feeling up Raena’s legs. It was prom. We were going to have sex in our hotel rooms. Raena had been excited all day about it. I knew I should be OK with Serge and Raena being affectionate. I wasn’t. I was a hypocrite. I wouldn’t have minded Zack being a little more forward right now but Serge didn’t even seem to know Raena was attached to the legs.

“We don’t drink,” I spoke for Raena, Zack and myself, “Besides, Dad paid for the hotel and the limo not for Champagne. So be a bit more appreciative.”

“I’m appreciative,” He grinned all teeth and leaned in to kiss and nip at Raena’s cleavage. Raena held his head and giggled. She pushed him off. He turned to me with a smug-filled smile, “How long till we get there? I think it’s time we went our separate ways?”

“Just a couple more blocks,” Zack answered. I looked up to Raena. She was wiping off the tops of her breasts.

“Good,” Serge declared. I gave Raena a reassuring smile and pulled Zack’s arm tighter around me. We travelled the rest of the way in silence.

“Are you ready, baby,” I looked up to Zack and we kissed lightly. The driver was running around to the trunk. Dad had had Raena and my overnight bags loaded in there. I had a change of clothes for Zack. Though, I’d have been happy keeping him in his black suit and gold shirt. We looked so great together with my purple dress. I wiggled my toes in my new stilettos. I had lasted half an hour on the dance floor before I had to pull them off. I had put them back on as we left the hall. I needed Zach’s elbow to not wibble and wobble all the way there. Now the driver was reaching for the door again and I felt a surge of butterflies in my stomach. .

“Let’s go, Raena,” Serge cut off Zack and I, who were nearer the door, as he rushed out. Zack went out after him and turned around to offer me his hand while I stepped out. Raena followed last without her gentleman to offer a hand. She smiled at me though so I pulled back my opinions about Serge. She must know him better than I did. And if I was a guy I’d be impatient to get Raena into a hotel room.

“Tonight’s the night,” Raena told me as she squeezed my shoulder and walked on. I turned and stepped into a thin running rivulet. I guess the clouds had broken because there was a light rain falling. I was glad we were under the awning. Zack took the two bags from the driver. I said a thank you, Dad said he had covered everything including the tip. We ignored the short awkward silence and the driver closed the door and wished us a good night. I slipped my arm in Zack’s and we travelled in through the automatic doors.

“Zack, will you grab the keys while Raena and I go to the washroom?” We kissed again.

“Not another delay!” Serge moaned and I finally gave him the look he had deserved all night. Raena slid out from his resistant grip.

“You still got to get the room keys,” I left off the expletive. I turned and ignored his under the breath dumbass remark. Raena and I hurried to the washroom.

“You and Zack, finally,” Raena announced as the door closed behind me, “You’re already beaming.”

“I know!” I couldn’t help but smile. My cheeks were hurting.

“I don’t know why you waited,” Raena sighed. She had been having sex for four years now. It was like it didn’t mean anything to her. That was mean. And untrue. She would have been against me having sex with some random guy like she was going to.

“I’m worried about Serge,” I told her. This wasn’t for the first time, just the first time since our dates had picked us up.

“He’s harmless,” Raena reassured me.

“I don’t want the best girl in the world with a harmless guy,” I stopped in front of the mirror and saw my lipstick needed a touch up, “I want her with the a great guy.”

“So you’ve changed your mind and we’re going to do have a threesome with Zack?” She smirked and I laughed, “You look great, Tiff.”

“Thanks Raena,” I put my lipstick back in my purse. There was no more denying it, “You ready?”

“I’m going to take a piss,” She announced and turned for one of the stalls. I turned back to the mirror. I did look great, for the first couple of seconds. I was wishing for another chance at a tan, another session at the hairdresser’s, and maybe a lighter color lipstick by the time Raena stepped out of her stall. She gave herself the shortest once over, smoothed down her skirt and flashed her perfect teeth.

“You coming, Tiff?” I took a second to sling my purse up to my elbow and chase after her.

“What the fuck took you two so long?” Serge and Zack were waiting by the corridor and entryway’s edge facing the washroom doors.

“It takes effort to look this good,” I figured the best way to deal with Serge was just to be too good for him. Raena rose up her shoulders.

“Speak for yourself, Tiff,” Raena laughed, “I always look this good.”

Zack smirked and Serge sneered He stepped forward and snatched Raena’s wrist. She stumbled as he pulled her over to him.

“What the fuck?” Zack demanded.

“Serge!” Raena was surprised.

“Let go of her!” I shouted. He just dragged Raena turning towards the elevators.

“Whoa, slow down buddy,” Serge turned straight into a bigger man. The two were about the same height. The stranger was probably thirtyish or forty. A square shouldered, big bellied man in a well cut black suit and a nice haircut. He had a big smile on and a much younger blonde on either shoulder. The short girl on his right was in a short white dress and inked in beautiful tattoos. The taller girl was in a scandalous black dress but she looked so much nicer. She forced a big smile, a little blue around her eyes, clear skin and gold loopy earrings. She was his angel and the girl in the white dress was his devil at each shoulder.

“Get the fuck out of my way,” Serge growled. He looked passed him right to Raena.

“Do you need a hand?” He asked Raena and I immediately liked him. He turned to see me rush up next to Zack. He grinned, “You and your friend are in lovely dresses. Special night?”

“It’s our prom,” Zack answered. Serge let go of Raena’s wrist and turned straight towards the man.

“Ah, that’s fan—”

“I’ve already put up with enough of one bitch’s shit this night!” Serge grabbed the man by his lapel. Serge was reaching into his pocket. I was scared. I wanted to grab Zack and Raena and leave. I squeezed Zack’s fingers he looked at me confused. The man grabbed Serge’s wrist and swung up something in his left hand. There was a metal snap, “Stop.”

“Messieurs? €a va?” The girl from the front desk was running up towards everyone, “Matthew is everything alright?”

“I’m fine, Gigi,” Matthew stepped back. Serge’s hand was disentangled from “Now, my friend, I believe you owe me and your lovely girl an apology.”

Good luck with that. I sneered. Zack and I hurried over to Raena and brought her into our care as we watched on. I put my hand on her shoulder. She was shaking.

“Raena, I apologize,” Serge surprised all of us. He was just standing there. He stood in rented tuxedo. His jacket hanging open on and crooked on his shoulders. The sprig of a leaf on his lapel was the only remnant of his boutonniere. His hair looked great, and I hated that it made Serge look so cute. On his wrist, still semi-outstretched to where he grabbed Matthew, was a blue and white plastic bracelet.

“What’s wrong?” Matthew stepped forward and waved his hand in front of Serge’s face.

“Why’s he just standing like that?” Asked the angel in black dress.

“I think—”

“Don’t!” He fearfully interrupted his devil in white, “Gigi, go back to work.”

“Biensur,” The desk girl smiled dreamily at him and to all of us said, “Have a lovely night.”

“Fuck what’s wrong with him?” Raena had run over and shook Serge, “What did you do to his wrist? The Forefront Foundation?”

“It’s a charity I work with,” Matthew explained bending Serge’s arm so Raena could more easily read the slap bracelet, “I just needed something to shock him out of his aggression. I don’t know why he’s quite like this.”

“You said you weren’t bringing any with you tonight,” The angel muttered. Matthew took a deep breath in response. He shook Serge by the elbow again. He sounded scared and his angel matched the look. His devil just looked like she was about to laugh. I couldn’t understand what was happening. I asked.

“What is The Forefront Foundation?” It wasn’t perhaps the most important question. I figured if we could get answers he was ready for, we could soon get answers we needed.

“It’s a charity,” Matthew seemed to find some steady ground, “They—We raise money for girls and young women to go to university and college.”

“Oh, that’s good,” I said, “And what do you do?”

“I’m a caterer,” He smiled, “I supply their dinners and fundraisers.”

“And you just keep a couple of slap bracelets on you to attack people!” Raena spoke in a vacillating shriek. She was not loud.

“It’s for other reasons,” He murmured. He looked at Serge, “Tell me your name.”

“Serge Michel Dupont,” Serge answered in grim monotone. We all watched him in fear.

“Stand comfortably,” Matthew demanded and Serge finally put his arm down. He stood with his usual casual confident ease. Zack slouched a little but I was helping him get past that, “Alright, what’s going on here?”

“I’ve been waiting to fuck this piece all night,” Serge grumbled, “And she’s pushed back enough. I should get what I’ve been promised.”

“If she’s not into you, you should walk away and find someone who is,” Matthew explained. We all looked to Raena, well not Serge. He just looked ahead.

“It’s prom, it’s supposed to be a great night,” Raena said, “I mean, I didn’t get this pretty to sleep alone.”

“I’ll find someone else,” And Serge started walking off.

“Wait!” Raena reached for Serge but he walked fast.

“Stop, come back here,” And Serge listened to Matthew. Zack and Raena were looking dumbfounded at Serge. I was looking at Matthew. It was like gears clicking in his mind. He was not happy with his conclusion. Serge stopped at the edge of our circle and just looked in dead eyed.

“I think you better fix Serge,” Zack stepped forward, “I kind of like him better like this but it’s not fucking right.”

“We’ll have to go somewhere more private,” Matthew looked over his shoulder. The desk girl looked over from her guests and smiled but went back to work, “Let’s go to the elevator.”

Serge started walking first and slowly, Zack first and the angel and devil last, we followed after him. Matthew pressed the up button and turned to his devil, “What now?”

“I think the brunette looks absolutely lovely,” She grinned and looked me over. “I’m jealous, I never got to go to prom.”

“I did,” Matthew remembered, “It was the first time I ever got drunk. I was not a good person to party with that night.”

“I don’t drink,” I replied, “But thank you,” I said to the devil.

“I wore a dress a lot like hers,” The angel in black said looking over Raena’s, “Although I wish I had had that tiara. It’s gorgeous.”

“Fuck being polite,” Raena growled, “We’ve got a problem here with him!”

Serge looked blankly at the elevator doors.

“Is it because of the bracelet?” I asked. Matthew shook his head no at his girls. The devil smiled brightly.

“Of course not,” She pulled another bracelet from Matthew’s pocket and slapped it onto the angel’s wrist. The angel jumped in surprise, “Show them you’re not catatonic, Gwendolyn.”

“You didn’t have to slap it so hard!” She moaned and reached for her wrist and pulled off the bracelet. She easily bent it back into a bar. That’s when the elevators opened. We stepped back to let off an older couple. Matthew had to instruct Serge to get out of their way. We piled in. I decided to keep thinking of the girls as the angel and the devil at least until I figured out the inked girl’s name. Zack stood in the center next to Matthew. The angel and the devil were in the back with Serge and Raena and I were on either side of Matthew and Zack. Raena pressed our fifth floor button and Matthew pressed his ninth.

“What am I going to do about him?” Raena asked as the doors slid closed. Matthew looked up to the black domed camera. His angel passed him the bracelet.

“You’re going to have a good night,” Matthew picked up Raena’s fingers and closed the bracelet over her wrist. She panicked for a moment but did a spastic little dance and jump and smiled serenely. She looked at Serge with a new disgust, “When you’re night with Serge is unsatisfying, you’ll come up and join us in room 908.”

“What?” I squeaked. “Raena!”

“Yeah, that sounds more fun than this guy,” She pushed Serge who just stood there dead eyed.

“If that’s what she wants, babe,” Zack smiled, “I think she would have a better time with this guy... I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

Why do people have such a hard time listening for names?

“I’m sorry for not introducing ourselves,” Matthew smiled broadly, “I’m Matthew Reid, and these are my lovely friends, Sara and Gwen.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said politely.

“I’m Zack and this is my girlfriend Tiffany and our best friend Raena,” He went little white faced and said, “That was Serge.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Matthew grinned. Sara poked him, “What?”

“There’s still one more girl who doesn’t have a bracelet,” She looked at me, “Are you going to let her go?”

“What do you say Tiff?” Zack looked at me, “You can’t possibly need any more scholarships can you?”

“I think maybe they should have this night together without us interfering,” Gwen said. I shared a smile with her and figured my angel label was even more accurate. I couldn’t know why.

“I don’t think it really goes with my dress,” I said looking at the bracelet.

“Ha!” Matthew laughed, “You’re adorable Tiffany. How long have you and Zack been together?”

“A little over a year now,” I smiled and squeezed against Zack’s side. Zack gave me his wavery little smile. He only ever gave it to me.

“That’s beautiful,” He smiled. The elevator was stopping. Sara, his devil, poked him again.

“Last chance,” She warned.

Zack and I looked at Serge and he was still in his zombie state. Raena looked over to me and shrugged.

“I like the bracelet,” She smiled, “What do you think Tiff? Think they’d give a D student like me scholarship money.”

“If you wanted it, they’d give you your opportunity,” Matthew grinned, “We’ll see you in half an hour Raena. It was lovely to meet you Tiffany and Zack.”

“Thanks for standing up for Raena,” I stopped in the doorway and it bounced back open off of my stiletto, “No matter what you had done to Serge.”

“It was my pleasure, Tiffany,” Matthew grinned. He looked to Zack, “She’s a great girl. You’ve got to give her better than she’s ever had before tonight.”

I went red so fast there should have been a sonic boom. Zack looked away.

“We’ve never...” I mumbled.

“She’s never...” Zack mumbled.

“What!” I looked at Zack, “You haven’t!”

“You’ll be the first girl I’ve been with Tiffany,” Zack gave me our smile, “I promise.”

“Stop it, Sara!” Gwen grumbled.

“C’mon Wizard,” Sara sidled up against Matthew and slipped four more bracelets out of his pocket. She slipped two into her left and and two into Matthew’s hand, “It’s time to do your Hocus Pocus.”

“Wizard? You didn’t do some crazy magic shit on Serge did you?” Raena asked. Matthew had just lead Serge out past me. Gwen grabbed the open door button so my shoe didn’t get nudged a second time.

“There’s no such thing as magic,” Matthew and I said scornfully. I laughed, “Jinx, owe me a coke!”

Matthew erupted into laughter. He smiled crazily at me. He looked at the two slap bracelets in his hand. He looked at me again. I felt like I should blush worse than I had just a moment ago. I might have if the elevator hadn’t growled demanding to be closed. We all, even Matthew and his angel and devil stepped out into the alcove. The elevator closed behind Gwen, “Well, I guess we’ll have to catch the next one.”

“Yeah, it was nice to meet you all,” Zack claimed with a bit of impatient that caused me to blush again.

“Good night, Matthew,” I said and he offered his hand. I shook it and his other hand came up closing a bracelet around my wrist.

“I couldn’t help myself,” He smiled and I smiled and Zack glowered. Matthew turned to Zack and offered his hand as well.

“Oh just slap it on me,” Zack stuck out his wrist.

“Sara?”

“Yeah, you probably have to,” The devil declared.

There was a little crack as the bracelet swirled around Zack’s wrist. He went rigid. He changed like Serge did.

“Zack! Zack!” I panicked and shook his arm. I turned to Matthew and said, “How did you do this!”

“You did use magic!” Raena squeaked and stumbled back against the wall.

“I guess I did,” Matthew sighed.

“Make Zack better!” I turned to Matthew.

“Can I? Why is it doing this to these boys?” Matthew turned to his devil and I felt the butterfly ultimate fighting championship in my stomach.

“You can make them do stuff,” Sara shrugged, “But they weren’t designed for boys. He only ever gave his Things to men who needed a push out of the way.”

“Zack,” Matthew asked and looked around and saw none of those black bulbed video cameras he relaxed, “Do you love Tiffany?”

I smiled brightly knowing this answer without hesitation. Zack obviously said, “Yes.”

“And you’ll treat her well?” I felt that cheek tearing smile tear open my face again.

“No, I lie to her everyday,” Zack’s voice lacked any emotion but I felt I was kicked in the stomach, “I’ve been dreading tonight but I can’t put it off any longer.”

“Put what off?” I asked slipping away from Zack.

“Don’t cry, Tiffany,” Matthew commanded me. Like I could help myself if I needed to cry.

“I’m not sure what I’m going to do,” Zack droned, “I know I’m gay but I’m afraid of my dad. I have to go to college and I can’t afford to without his help. He’ll never support me and the only thing he approves of is Tiffany’s ass. He wants me to make her a little slut. He wants proof that I’m a man like he is.”

“What?” I croaked.

“You do have an incredible ass,” The devil smirked.

“I think her smile and face are her best features,” Matthew grinned as I blushed and turned away, “But, yes, that ass.”

“So what?” Raena grumbled, “Now we’re stuck with limp dick dates!”

“Calm down, Raena,” Matthew grumbled and Raena closed her lips, crossed her arms and softened her scowl. He turned to Zack, “Zack, would be you happy taking Serge for the night?”

“He’s very cute,” Zack said.

“I know!” Raena beamed.

“But he’s a prick!” I reminded everyone.

“Yeah,” Matthew agreed, “Serge are you gay or bi?”

“No.” He answered bored.

“Well tonight you are,” Matthew corrected him, “This is Zack’s prom night and you’re going to make it magical. Zack, you’re in command unless or until you pass off control to Serge. Live your life how you feel you should.”

“What about me! This was supposed to be my night,” I pulled away the tears starting to smear my makeup, “Zack! I love you.”

“Tiffany, stop crying,” I huffed and held my breath. It wasn’t a full stop. Matthew picked up my hands, “Take Zack to your room. Leave him there and come up and join us in room 908.”

“Join you?”

“Raena you’re going to walk Serge to the room and come up with Tiffany,” He declared. He looked to Sara and Gwen for support. The devil was smug. The angel was chewing on a lock of her hair, “I promise you, I’ll make tonight as special as can be.”

“But... Matthew,” Gwen spoke up, “I thought... You had said... Look... Raena how old are you?”

“I’m 18,” She answered. Gwen turned to me. Matthew still held my hands. He had a nice comfortable grip. I’m sure my hands would be shaking nervously if he wasn’t steadying them.

“So am I,” I replied.

“Then we’re all good,” Matthew smiled at Gwen, “No problems.”

“Can you just—You didn’t even check first.” She spoke to her shoes.

“We’re going to head up and get ready,” He pulled me in and kissed me lightly on the lips, “We’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon,” I said flabbergasted. Raena grabbed my hand and we started off ahead of the boys. They followed behind us. Matthew and his angel and devil turned back to call the elevator.

“What are we doing?” I asked Raena as we walked down the hall. A couple of doors had do not disturb placards but it was totally empty.

“We’re going upstairs to party with Matthew,” Raena tried to answer. She stumbled a bit over the word party. We got to our rooms. 511 and 509 were almost just across the hall from each other. I stepped back and Zack stepped past me to open the door.

“You should probably fix your eyeliner,” Raena walked me into the room with a hand on my shoulder. We went into the washroom and the boys went into the room, “Here, let me.”

Raena wiped away my eye makeup and tear stains while I kept thinking in crazy circles. I gasped for air once but dug my nails into the meat of my palms to calm down. Raena slowly and assuredly got me ready. I opened my eyes and turned towards the mirror.

“I think it looks better than when that woman did them,” Raena boasted.

“I look great, thank you, Raena.”

“Anytime, Tiff,” She took my hand and squeezed, “You can still be excited, you know?”

“I’m almost excited as I am confused which is a bit more than I’m afraid,” I decided, “But let’s go.”

“Alright,” She kissed me on the cheek and we smiled at each other in the mirror. We left the bathroom. The boys were making out on the bed.

“Oh, wow,” I said. They stopped. Zack stood up, still dressed but for his loosened necktie. He completely ignored Raena and me. Serge was lying on the bed, disrobed of his jacket, shirt, vest and bowtie. They made out with more passion than I could have imagined from Zack, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Zack.”

“OK, Tiff,” He said, stopping for just a moment, “I should get back to this.”

Raena had to be tugged so we could hurry out of their together. We rushed through the hallway, something I wasn’t confident doing in heels. Raena had the skill perfected. We were bouncing and fidgeting until the elevator opened. We hurried inside.

“Room 908,” I recalled as Raena pushed the button. I turned to the back wall which was a big mirror over a brass rail. I started fixing everything, my corsage, my shoulder straps, my skirt and my tits.

“You look great, Tiff,” Raena hugged me from behind and grabbed my hands over my breasts. She squeezed them together making them look much fuller than their own little size, “Perfect.”

“You look way better,” I said with sigh.

“Do you want to go first?” She asked me. Her chin rested on my shoulder. I reached up and fingered the ringlets over her ear.

“Do you really think we’re going to take turns?”

I was glad I had decided to overprepare getting breakfast that morning. I threw away another sandwich wrapper. The detritus was piling up in the floor of my Camry. I licked the congealed grease off my fingers. Lucy would clean the car inside and out when I got home. I belched. There was a bottle of Sprite in the cupholder and it had grown uncomfortably warm despite the air conditioning. Maybe I’d just get a new car.

My phone started ringing from under the pile of Tim’s an Wendy’s wrappers on the passenger seat. The radio quieted and the dashboard display lit up. I checked the caller I.D. and groaned. I didn’t have much choice.

“Hey boss,” I answered with a smile only so she’d hear one, “What can I do for you?”

“Cooke? Where the hell are you?” Adrienne Camberley sounded haggard. That meant family horseshit, even when work was at it’s worst she only seemed to ever get put upon by her brothers or kid, “You missed another briefing on the Highfield case. I had to yank Faraday off the Rawlins inheritance dispute.”

“Yeah?” I stalled as I double checked that the limo six cars ahead of me didn’t take this next turn off. At least it was easier to follow this car from further back, “Well I just crossed into Quebec and—”

“What in God’s name are you doing in Quebec?” She was genuinely surprised and should’ve been. The Highfield case was the only thing I had on my docket that might have reached out of the maritimes. If I had to travel for that, I’d be in Okinawa. All my family, which was just my dad, lived, survived, faded, in a hospice care facility in Dartmouth. I had the opportunity to field her a lie but that would’ve been stupid. My phone, my computer, my car, all had GPS memory. Not that she’d ever have checked but I wasn’t going to go against evidence. That would just be stupid.

“Yeah, I’m following a lead,” The smile was genuine for a moment. It was a stupid pun, “And a huge opportunity. I couldn’t pass this up. I should know more tonight. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Jesus, Cooke,” She ground her teeth, “Just, fuck. Just make sure you clock your billables.”

“Every second,” I assured her.

“Round up to the hour,” I hear her smile, “I’m going to have Faraday field your position on Highfield. Be back by Monday. Early Monday.”

“Hopefully sooner,” I yawned. I could feel a bit of sausage in between my up incisor and bicuspid, my tongue wasn’t getting it.

“And fucking next time, cover your fucking bases,” She swore like she couldn’t help it.

“Yeah, Faraday’s perfect for this,” And for the first time, I didn’t feel that dog eat dog competition with her or Dalton. Whoever closed the Highfield deal was making senior partner, there’d be no excuses left. I just handed it off to competent competition. I felt liberated. A twelve years goal held none of the need anymore. I grinned, “See you Monday.”

“Yeah,” She rallied her more decisive self, “I’m looking forward to hearing this story.”

“Well, I’ll try to throw in a Wookiee or a Centennial Falcon or something to keep your attention,” I prodded.

“Wow,” She laughed mirthlessly, “As a dyed in the wool Trekkie, I’m barely insulted. I am just sad for you.”

“Well beaming out, then Scottie,” I signed off.

“Oh fu—” I hung up. Goddammit! I looked up and the limo was still chugging along ahead of a garish yellow Range Rover that had merged from the last on ramp. The ugly vehicle looked like a school bus’s abortion. I leaned over and fished another cold burger from the Wendy’s bag. This trip was going to be hell on my arteries.

I was feeling more than impatient to get my hands on that little slut again. She wasn’t as hot as Lucy or Bryn but she was emblematic of something I was coming to understand. I had never been religious and now I had a better reason not to be. Ishmael Rawlins and his harem wasn’t the result of wealth and personality. He hadn’t even been that wealthy, twenty five million in assets was beyond my means but compared to Highfield, that was pocket change. The rise of Matthew Reid, what an unremarkable waste of oxygen, proved there was something more to this. That tattooed cunt was the starting line. The more I approached him the more the tension ratcheted up. I’m glad I hung back further this drive. Otherwise I’d have blown past the turnoff like I had when they had stopped at the diner.

We were in a small out of the suburbs development. The houses here were massive. High fences and probably higher noses. The limo pulled into the biggest home at the lip of the development. I kept driving. I wanted to be around the turn before the blonde whore driver let Matthew, Sara and the third girl out. I memorized the house number and headed back to the highway.

I rolled into Montreal a half hour later and found a nondescript diner before the city really started. There was just one other car in the parking lot. I hefted my laptop bag and took a seat where I could see the door. Paranoid, I guess.

“Bonjour,” The waitress’s smile did nothing for her. Some women were just write-offs.

“Hi,” She lost a little of her smile, “Wi-fi?”

“Uh, yes, password is Visite88.” She declared the numbers as huit, huit. But I remembered enough high school French to count to ten. I nodded to the coffee mug and got to work. With the address and the names from the Rawlins case, I discovered Elias Fournier. Google translate helped with the articles but the clunky interpretation added another hour onto my effort. The man had been a bit of a legend a few decades ago. He was known for lavish parties and fundraisers. A lifelong bachelor, and why not? I saw that limo driver of his, of course. The important part was that he had clearly been in with Rawlins. I had an in.

“Are you going to order any food?” The weary waitress asked sharply as I had my third refill. No customers had come and gone.

“Once, I’m finished with this, maybe,” I poured a sugar packet into the cup and stirred the coffee until she left. I dialed when I felt she was far enough out of my personal space.

“Dalton West, Maxine speaking, how may I direct your call?”

“Hey Maxi,” I smiled imagining her tired pout at the nickname, “You busy, I need something scanned and e-mailed to me.”

“Yeah, actually but I can hand you off to someone if you’ll wait?”

“Sure thing,” I grimaced a little. There were six or seven paralegals she could hand me to. I hoped it wasn’t Tim’s daughter.

“Alright, Lewis, I’ve got Raphaela for you,” I groaned and Maxine very clearly didn’t giggle, “See you soon.”

“Later,” I grumbled.

“Hi Mr Cooke. How can I help you?” Raphaela said showing off her politeness skill. She had very few others.

“I need a few bits of research on the Rawlins assets. Can you email them to me?”

“Oh, I don’t believe we’ve digitized all of the paperwork we’ve received yet,” She forced me to maintain my calm. I had been spoiled. I should have taken Nadine with me. That girl was the vaginal equivalent of a stress ball.

“Then go to the copy room and—”

“No need to be snarky about it,” She sighed, “Anything specific or should I send them all?”

“All’s fine. Just please don’t keep me waiting,” I sighed.

“Of course not,” She lashed back and I tried counting silently to ten, “You’ll have them within the hour.”

“Thank you,” I said tersely and hung up. She turned out to be truthful and uncommonly efficient. I had my documents in under half an hour. I put down another empty cup of coffee.It wasn’t long until I had my entrance. I packed up my things. Left the haggard bitch with the coffee pot a generous and wholly undeserved tip. I took a deep breath and drove back up the highway. I smiled to myself, the limousine was leaving back onto the highway when I entered the development. I hadn’t felt this energized, this impatient, this eager since I had found Sara still in my bed with her bracelets locked together. I smelled my breath and checked my teeth. I hoped a couple sticks of Dentyne would cover things. I was glad I had packed a comb in my briefcase.

I was greeted at the door by a sneering young man. Maybe 25, probably not. He was baby-faced and well dressed. He looked at my inexpensive suit and worn brown shoes with more than a modicum of disdain. I saw the watch on his left wrist and was a little flummoxed. Then I noticed the tight silver almost hidden by the collar of his shirt. Better.

“Hello, my name is Lewis Cooke of Dalton West. My associate called ahead to alert M Fournier of my arrival,” I waited as he looked again at the brown briefcase.

“I don’t believe he did,” He retorted.

“No, it would have been a she. A Ms Raphaela Dalton,” If this got back it’d both affect her the least and be most expected of her.

“No, sir,” He said as if his nose was growing higher by the moment. I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. I was overacting just a little but it worked.

“I’m sorry, I’ll have to telephone her in a moment,” I sighed, “I’m handling the estate of Ishmael Rawlins. Your employer,” it definitely wasn’t father, “And he worked together on a number of charities—”

“Yes, of course,” He seemed put out, “Please come in. I’ll see if he’s available.”

“Thank you,” I said without meaning and was led into the expansive home. Wealth was on display, beautiful furniture, a crystal chandelier and dozens of paintings. But more than that there was the staff. The valet who led me in was young, fit and remarkably good looking. A chef from the kitchen offered me a cup of coffee and he was much the same, though his thick French Canadian accent was less than mellifluous. I was brought to a waiting room where I could see a darker skinned young man tending a rose bush. I began to connect the dots. I wondered if Monsieur Fournier was gay, or if his driver was any indication, beyond such trivialities. The coffee was excellent. I had too much junk food and caffeine today. The Valet returned.

“Follow me to the library,” He said and waited for me to stand and close the button of my jacket before he led me down a short corridor to a cluttered library. There were two beautiful mahogany and green upholstered couches covered in books. The room sharply contrasted the rest of the house. This is where the man lived. The rest was all pomp and circumstance.

“Good afternoon, Monsieur,” I began. The man himself was stretched out on the second sofa with a copy of Great Expectations bookmarked around his lap. He wore a soft looking robe that was a bit thick for the summer air outside. He was silver haired and lazily smiling. He looked over me with fading interest. I stood rigid. I had a sophomoric idea of homosexuals, one I knew to be absurd. I hardly expected all women to want me and yet I was always expecting the opposite from gay men, “I’m Lewis—”

“Cooke, yes. I’ve been told,” The valet closed the door behind me, “You’re representing Ms Collins. I must admit I hardly expected an e-mail or phone call let alone a visit.”

“Truth be told, you are just one of a few stops I need to make,” I disarmed him a little with that, “I always feel to extend the courtesy is better than not.”

“You’re old soul then, Mr Cooke,” He was using last names very specifically. I instinctively wanted to call him Eli.

“Maybe. I do apologize for the mix-up with my associate,” I deflected.

“Fuck up, more like,” He explained, “What is it of Rawlins business that brings you here.”

“You’re aware that Mr Rawlins estate is locked up in a legal battle due to his many children coming to light?”

“Yes, he never was a careful man,” Fournier replied, “Methodical and megalomaniacal but not careful.”

“I see,” I revealed a position on the so-called monstrosity of a such a man, “Well, in order to divide up and calculate his assets many of his possessions and holdings are being sold or auctioned. However, there were a few clauses in the will regarding his friends—”

“It did not say friends,” Fournier interjected.

“No, I just assumed—”

“Not something a lawyer should spend his time on, is it?” He waved me off. I was about to start again when he stood up, “I don’t want his money or his garbage. If you must involve me in this, deliver my share to charities.”

“That is not a problem,” I started as he picked up his Dickens and laid it open over the armrest. He stood up stretching. He appeared aged and frail lounging on the sofa but he stood up taller than me. He must have been a larger man in his youth. He still seemed strong today, “Mr Rawlins was involved in many charities and—”

“No,” He steamrolled me again and I bristled. This man clearly had the same capabilities as Rawlins did and he was making things easier by making sure I did not like him, “Nothing his hands have touched.”

He was walking over to a big desk and pulled a fountain pen from a jar. I slowly walked over to him. My mind was spinning trying to see a means to pry the conversation towards my goals but there was no obvious point on which to pivot. Our banalities continued and I could feel my stomach roiling with icy butterflies. “I support the It Gets Better campaign and The Heart and Stroke Foundation.”

“Excellent choices,” I said lifting my briefcase onto the corner of his desk as he sat down.

“Perfectly selfish, I assure you,” he replied with an attempt of humor. I looked over him and just took in the wall of weathered books and leather covers. This was the most impressive to me that I had seen. Most were fiction and I recognized Don Quixote in several different languages, “Now there is something for me to sign?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I was just distracted by your collection,” I stepped past the right side of his desk buying a moment to think and to act. My veins had been replaced by electrical currents. I felt my teeth on edge. This man had what I wanted and I was struggling for a means to take it from him.

“Yes, I’m very proud of it,” He said impatiently but continued on, “Are you a collector?”

“To my chagrin, no,” I admitted, “I do have some original printings of my favorite Graham Greene novels. But I’ve never had the time to hunt down the books I want nor the money to afford them.”

“Indeed,” He stood up, “The books on my shelf are not getting read and I find that an affront to a library.”

I stepped back as he shuffled past me. A section down he squatted a little to reach the second bottom shelf. His fingers wrapped around the spine of Mr Fischer and The Bomb Party. There was a sickening thud that seemed to scream up my wrist and to my shoulder. He collapsed, gore and brains seeping out the hole in the back of his skull. The book fell to the floor, open, it’s pages sponging up the pooling blood.

In my hand was candlestick, which had been used as a bookend next to Keep The Aspidistra Flying. It still seemed to vibrate like a tuning fork in my hand. I opened my hand but didn’t let it fall, a copper cutout of a bride was peppered in specks of gore. The door flung open.

“Elias!” The Valet hurried into the back of the gardener before him. The chef in the back turned several shades of green. They looked up to me and to my hand and I struggled to meet their eyes. None were scrambling for cell phones, I could not cross the library to stop any of these men from ending my freedom. I felt my piss soaking my pant leg. I waited cottonmouth. I couldn’t force myself to drop the dented candlestick. Slowly, silently, they fell as one to the knee.

“You are now our King,” spat the valet like the words were poisonous.

“Oui,” Replied the chef.

“And you?” I asked turning to the gardener.

“Whatever you need,” He sobbed.

“Good, I want this mess cleaned up,” I waved to still twitching body, the gardener and chef immediately moved to act. I waved back down the valet. Move forward or sink, “Will he be missed? And how do I show more people that I am their king?”

“No, no sir,” He shook his head. Tears were staining his face, I scoffed, “I can keep his death hidden for as long as you require.”

The man blubbered, interrupting himself. I fingered the blood across my shirt buttons. I gave him a moment but he was inconsolable. I turned to the chef.

“I had a second question,” I barked.

“We wear these collars,” He pulled down the neck of his sweater to reveal the thin black cord choker around his throat.

“And there are more?”

“In his room.”

“Show me. Show me everything,” I said. I caught the gardener’s eye, “I want this room spotless. And send me the driver when she returns. I want everything perfect. Even him.”

He followed my finger to the mess of the valet. The gardener nodded and I turned after the chef.

“You’re my size. I will need new clothes,” I sneered for a moment, “Something nicer than yours though.”

“Of course,” The chef nodded, “He supplied us with the best for when we were to greet guests.”