Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 142(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
I reel from his blow, dizzy from the hit. I have brief doubts. I’m not a fighter. I work out, yes. But I’m just a man fueled by anger and driven by his own sense of justice.
I take his blows, enduring them.
“You’re on the wrong side of the tracks, rich boy!” Frank says as he takes the advantage.
My hand finds a heavy plate and I swing for his head, smashing it over his temple and sending him slinking down.
I scramble to my feet as Frank writhes on the ground, and see the confusion in the eyes of his girlfriend-for-hire. I pull out my wallet and lay down a stack of hundreds in front of her. “Get out of here. Now. You’ve seen nothing.”
She looks down at the money, then at me. She takes it, then obeys me, scurrying out the still open front door. She’s just a woman down on her luck, struggling to make ends meet. I wasn’t going to give her any trouble.
Just as I get rid of our only witness, I fall to the ground, barely keeping my head from hitting the floor. Frank tripped me. He’s still conscious, and still angry.
“I don’t know who the fuck you are, pal, but I’ll bury you. At least I’ll get a pretty penny for that fancy suit of yours.”
He manages to get to his feet and kick me in the ribs. I writhe in pain, but the adrenaline is flowing and I’m back on my feet soon after. I keep throwing fists with this guy.
This is his home. He knows where things are, including the tools of his trade. He grabs a baseball bat I didn’t see and swings it right for my gut. I catch it, and we’re both struggling and fighting over the wooden bat.
“Who the fuck are you, anyway?”
“A concerned citizen. One who has problems with your parenting methods.”
“Parenting methods?” He cocks an eyebrow. “I don’t even... oh. Clara? I treat her like a princess.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“She’s an ungrateful brat! She never sees what I do for her!”
My incredulity gets the best of me. I throw a knee up at him, and that’s enough for me to steal the bat away.
“Are you that full of yourself? That high on your own shit?” I say as I swing for his gut.
He groans, stumbling back, sinking down. I may have broken a bunch of his ribs, but I don’t care. I said I wouldn’t kill him. I said nothing about not brutally maiming him.
“You’ve driven your own daughter into desperation. And you drove your wife to suicide. And you think you’re father of the year?”
I kick him in the ribs as he howls in agony.
“She’s found something good in her life now and she’s afraid of you showing up and taking it away. I’m not going to let that happen, Frank.”
He crawls for a knife on the floor near the crumpled shelf. I step on his hand before he can get to it.
“I want you to leave this town. And I want you to never return. If you have a single drop of decency inside of you, you’ll do this for your daughter.”
“Or what?” he replies, still showing defiance despite being beaten.
I stare at him from above as he looks helplessly at me. The fire inside me roars, and I want him to see it through my eyes. “Or I’ll do what I promised I wouldn’t do. And I’ll spend every dollar I have to make sure I’m never found out. I have plenty to spare, Frank. There is only the love I have for your daughter preventing me from driving this bat into your skull right now.”
“You can’t do anything you want. This... this is America...”
“And I have money. You know as well as I do the power that gives me. And don’t you dare think you can slip back here without me knowing. How do you think I found you in the first place? Your daughter doesn’t even know. Leave town, Frank. Never return. Or the next time we meet will be your end.”
One more kick in the gut and he’s writhing in absolute agony. I definitely broke some ribs, and that fact makes me feel good about myself.
I drop the bat. I walk out the front door. I head back to my car, turning the engine and pulling away before too much of a crowd forms around the wailing, injured man Clara unfortunately calls her father.
The job is done.
I hope he has enough self-preservation instinct to follow my instructions.
For his sake.
And for Clara’s.
Adrenaline is one hell of a drug.
It isn’t until I get back to my mansion home that everything starts to hurt.
My hands from the punches, and my ribs from the kicks he managed to give me. My neck and back hurt too, not to mention the blood from the few punches he managed to get in. He’s no more than a common street thug, and he fought like one, making what punches he did throw count.