Chapter 22

She strolled towards them confidently, her chin raised. It seemed like the entire hall parted for her, and it was obvious that she reveled in the feeling of being untouchable and the most popular girl in school.

They'd been dating for over two years, though they'd been friends for three. It was foolish to say he didn't have feelings for her, because he did. And even though he pretended not to notice, he knew she used that to her advantage in most cases.

Like now.

"Dad wants you tonight. The three of you." Chewing on a piece of gum, she let her eyes roam over the three guys in front of her.

Slapping his locker shut with a sigh, Damon exchanged glances with his friends. No. They'd made up their minds, not anymore. "What for?"

"What for?" She rolled her eyes. Damon suspected she was suspicious of them, seeing as they'd been distant for over two weeks since they'd decided not to do Jackson's dirty work any longer. "Do you need me to spell it out? I kinda forgot my dictionary at home."

Next to him, Gerald snorted. "I'm surprised you even know what a dictionary is. Dumb bitch."

"Are you seriously going to let him talk to me like that?" the anger on her face was visible, making Damon wince. The last thing he wanted was to have to deal with Vanessa.

"Gerald, cut it out." The scolding wasn't heartfelt and Gabe laughed. "We'll be there."

Vanessa moved closer to Damon, almost touching his lips with hers. "Maybe after that, we can make time for ourselves somewhere. There are some things I can do that I think you'll really like," her voice was sultry, low, seductive.

Apparently, Gerald didn't think so because he let out a cough. "Slut."

Vanessa's visible anger was cringe worthy. Gerald and Gabe didn't seem to care, they never liked her. But Damon on the other hand was not ready to poke the bear. He knew how devious she could be. "Ignore him. He's an ass. I'll see you tonight."

She strode away with a huff. Watching her retreating figure, chaos broke loose. The three laughed without inhibitions, and Damon couldn't have been more glad that Vanessa couldn't hear them. She'd run off to sweet daddy and he'd make their lives miserable.

The bell rang, cutting their hysteria short. Gabe snorted, "Come on, we can't be late or Mr. Daniels will have our assess. Let's go."

"Whatever," Gerald chortled.

They grabbed their bags, striding away to class, still chuckling.

****

The office was spacious, a bit too dark for Damon's liking, but not as intimidating as the man seated across the desk from them. His lips were in a straight line as usual, and he hardly ever smiled unless he'd gotten something he wanted.

Today though, he was smiling. Scary shit.

"I need you three to finish the McDermott job. All of them. The papers already came in and they have been signed," He let out a scary laugh. "I officially own all the McDermott properties."

He threw a couple of files in front of them, gesturing to them to take it. It was Gabriel who reached out first. He looked through the files with raised brows, taking a minute or two. Then his head snapped up to them, nodding.

"Your job is to finish them off. All of them."

Gerald's jaw dropped. "What?"

"You heard me."

"But...but they have children. Even younger than us," Damon tried to reason. The man was insane, there was no other explanation for it.

Jackson pinned them down with an intense stare. "When have you ever known me to care for such irrelevance?"

Flummoxed, Gabriel couldn't believe his ears. He'd known Jackson was a crazy bastard but he never thought the man could be this heartless. "You've gone mad. Completely bonkers."

"Tell me something I don't know." He rolled his eyes. "I want it done before nine o’clock this evening. No excuses. Now get out of my office."

Silence.

No movement.

A minute.

Two.

"Did I stutter?"

"We're done, Jackson. We want out." It was the hardest thing Damon had ever had to say in his entire life, not to mention scariest. But fear never got you anywhere. "No more."

"Yeah, no more," Gerald added. "We're done killing or you, we're done selling drugs for you and we're done doing your dirty work."

"It's our senior year and we plan to enjoy it without limitations," Gabe spoke up. "Now we can't do that if we're constantly at your beck and call. You want someone dead, do it yourself—”

"Yeah," Gerald piped up.

"Sell your fucking drugs your damn self. You can't sit behind a desk and ruin our lives while you keep your hands clean. We've been doing this shit for three years, it's getting old. Now you might think we're making a mistake but hell if it doesn't feel right. We're not gonna let you soil our lives any longer, because we want to live. We really do."

"And we want to be able to be good people for ourselves, and our families and even our children future. Our entire lives are ahead of us, and we're gonna take it, whether you like it or not," Gerald finished.

Damon watched the man across them. He hadn't said much. In fact, his face was a complete stone. It was hard to know what he was thinking. Damon suddenly felt stupid. An onlooker would probably think they'd rehearsed that speech a couple of hundred times.

Then he laughed.

It was a loud, booming sound and it echoed throughout the entire room. If they didn't know better, they'd say they just told a really funny joke. It definitely felt that way with how he was laughing.

The laughter took forever to stop and by that time, Damon's patience was hanging by a thread. The same couldn't be said for Gerald.

"Why the fuck are you laughing? What? Is something funny?" His voice had an edge to it and Damon could tell he was barely containing his anger.

"Oh, God," Jackson wheezed, wiping a fake tear from the corner of his eyes. "It's hilarious what you young boys come up with these days."

Gabe was dumbstruck. "That wasn't a joke. We meant every word," he said slowly, like he was explaining something simply to a child.

Jackson's face hardened. "I don't think you understand the terms of our agreement. You don't have a say as to when you three get to stop working for me, which will not be in the near future. This—" he gestured towards them mockingly. "—idea of yours to call it quits whenever you feel like, it's absurd. You don't have a choice. I call the shots here, don't forget, I'm the fucking boss. You should have thought of your so-called future and families when you decided to work for me, when you decided to kill for me. You're my puppets and I think you know how very selfish I am with my toys."

For the first time since they'd been under Jackson, the gravity of what they'd gotten themselves into hit them. Hard. It was as obvious as the sun that he wasn't going to let them go. Not easily.

"Can you guys give me a minute with him?" Damon said softly, making eye contact with his friends. God help him, he didn't think he could do anything with them in the room. "Alone?"

Their reluctance was quite obvious but they wagered Damon could hold his own if he needed to. He was, after all, the deadliest of the three. The door banged shut as they exited the room and the silence that ensued was deafening. Making eye contact, Damon fixed him down with a fierce glare.

Eye to eye.

Blue to grey.

Grey to blue.

Damon realized he couldn't kill him; One, because it would make it hard to flee the building as Jackson had armed men everywhere, on every floor. Two, he literally couldn't. Not because he hadn't killed a person before, but because Jackson was like a cat with nine lives.

His mind went to the gun at his back. All he had to do was take out the metal and pull the trigger, aim for the forehead just as he'd been taught. But it didn't matter: Jackson was too fast. Faster than him. He'd been the one to train Damon after all, and Damon didn't think he'd reached the level where he could overpower his teacher. He man fought like a pro. Maybe he'd manage to get in a few hits and kicks, but that would be it.

Besides, being the paranoid bastard the man was, Damon could bet his left eyeball that the man had taken several extreme protective measures if a situation like that ever presented itself.

He couldn't say he didn't want to kill the man, but since he couldn't, all he wanted was to walk out the door a free man. He and his friends.

"You have to let us go, Jackson."

The reply was fast. "Tell you what? We'll fight. Fist to fist. You win, I'll let you go. You lose, you die."

Damon swallowed. There was no way he could take him. The man was built hard as a rock, and let's not get started on how well he could fight. But this was a risk he had to take, not just for him, for Gerald and Gabe as well as their parents.

"Fine."

He stood to his full height, taking a stance, his fists raised. In front of him, Jackson had a smirk on his face. "Is that it?" he asked mockingly.

"Shut up and fight. Your words won't throw a punch for you." Damon swung one of his raised fists, hitting Jackson smack on the nose. He heard a crack and satisfaction flowed through him. "Come on. We don't have all day."

Blood flowed freely from Jackson's nose and he had a look of wonder on his face, like he couldn't believe Damon had hit him. The hand on his nose dropped and his eyes followed the action, staring blank at the blood in it. "You asked for it, don't forget."

They fought relentlessly, grunts filling the air. Hands and legs flew about hitting skin. The two men had blood everywhere. Damon was surprised he's even lasted this long, but he had this sick feeling his opponent was holding back on him. He hated it.

Well, that was until Jackson hit him hard enough to have his head turning. Groaning in pain, he fell to the floor, clutching his stomach. Coughing up blood, his head pounded from all the beatings he'd collected. There wasn't enough strength for him to even breathe.

"You could've had a good life, with me, by my side. We could've ruled the world together. I treated you as my son! All of you!" Jackson boomed.

"You'd have your children kill for you?" Damon wheezed. "Pathetic. We already have fathers; we don't need you."

"Who? Those weaklings?" Jackson let out a laugh, staring down at him. "They can't protect you. All they have is money. I have it all. Money, power, strength, brains."

"I thought money was power?" Damon chuckled humorlessly. "Give it up, Jackson. You're making a fool of yourself."

The man looked utterly defeated, even though he wasn't the one lying on the ground, looking beat up. "You haven't won yet and we both know you won't. So why don't I make this easy for you, end your suffering while it's still in its early stage?"

He walked over Damon to his desk, opening the drawer and taking something out. Slamming the small drawer shut with a thud, Damon saw what he was holding.

A gun.

"One thing I've learnt in life is that people don't always value what you did for them." He cocked the gun, tilting his head to one side. A small wicked smile replaced his frown, and it looked downright terrifying with the blood running down his nose. "And it's such a shame to know that you're one of those people. I made you the man you are today, I trained you to be fierce, furious and fast. I taught you almost everything I know about life."

Damon snorted. "Don't delude yourself, old man. I'm not Vin Diesel. And three years is hardly enough time to make a man." His sides ached from the hard strokes of Jackson's shoe and it was getting hard to keep talking.

"You'd be surprised." Jackson bent down to his level to look him in the eye. "I never thought this day would come, one where you'd betray my trust after everything I've done for you. It pains me deeply to do this, but I have no choice. We will meet again, in the afterlife, or maybe in hell. Goodbye."

The sound of the gun hit him before the pain did. Damon's eyes widened as he felt something hard in his back, then immense pain followed. That was enough to nudge him over that cliff. One minute the pain was there and the next it wasn't. His eyes dropped slowly and he was ready to let it all go.

"Damon?!"

"Dude, wake up!!"

"You can't go like this, man. We had plans remember?? Wake the fuck up, man!"

"Somebody call 911!"

The last thing he saw was his two friends holding him frantically.