The Boss

B R E A K I N G I N

James' life had capsized. And then started sinking, slowly but surely, into dark and icy depths.

He spent the weeks following his firing with a dark cloud hanging over his head. The first few days had been a hazy mess of ice cream binges and crying on Nina's shoulder. James' sadness, panic and fear at what was to come solidified eventually into a immense, immovable slab of pure fury. He wanted to do things to Tate. Violent and cruel fantasies filled his head, though he would never commit any of them.

James decided to go and visit his parents in Bel Air for three weeks, without Nina (she still had a job), just to get some fresh air and to look after his mental health.

A plan germinated in his mind over the three weeks, just a seed at first, then flourished into a flower of potential. It was...risky. And not necessarily legal...but it offered a good chance at vengeance. Tate McKinley would regret ever messing with James Sullivan.

*3 years ago*

"And...er...well...I was just wondering if you would...m-mind going out with me?" James said, not making eye contact with the beautiful girl before him. If he had been looking he would have seen a broad grin spread across her face.

She leapt forward and pulled him into an embrace. "Of course I'll go out with you." She whispered, sending tingles ricocheting from his neck to his toes.

Then they kissed, lovingly and deeply, and when they pulled apart Nina punched him in the arm lightly. "I have one requirement, though. You have got to have more confidence in yourself! 'Would you mind going out with me'? I would love to go out with you! You are a funny, handsome and truly kind person, James." She stroked a thumb down his bashful face. "Remember that."

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Tate McKinley's house was large to say the least. It was separated from the main road by a sweeping drive and sat lazily on top of a gentle slope. It was a beautiful house, one you would expect to see from someone with a six figure salary (nearly seven) like the one Tate wormed his way into.

Three cars were parked in the driveway: a gigantic black Range Rover, a deep blue Tesla and a bright orange Lamborghini, the kind of car that would usually scream 'I HAVE A SMALL PENIS!' although James knew that that wasn't the case in this instance, as much as he hated to admit it. Tate's bulge was almost distractingly huge.

He was ridiculously tempted to key all three of them, but that wasn't the plan. Stick to the plan. Well...there wasn't really a concrete plan per se...it was more of a 'break into his house and find either some important documents to destroy or some dirty little secrets that would ruin Tate's career' kind of plan.

The recently unemployed young man stood on the lawn to the side of the house, dressed all in black, waiting just one extra moment to make extra sure that Tate wasn't home. It was the night of the Peacock Solicitors annual ball, which Tate - being in the senior position he was- would definitely be attending. Still, better safe than sorry. No lights were on in any of the windows and no signs of life had been spotted in the twenty minutes he had been watching. All three cars being here wasn't an issue either: Tate would obviously get an Uber to the venue so that he could take full advantage of the free bar laid on by the company. James had witnessed his drunkenness before. It was not pretty. Plus James was sure Tate would rather slaughter puppies than get one scratch on his precious cars, so would never risk driving drunk.

The shadow darted forward once he was sure the coast was clear. He lifted all rocks and ornaments in the shrubbery, desperately trying to find the spare key. There! Under the statue of the bare chested woman. Of course.

As quietly as possible he entered the house. Still no lights and, even luckier, no alarms. He crept on his tiptoes through the large house, peering in all of the rooms until he found...the study. Yes. And there was the desk where he surely kept all of his documents, or at least some dodgy stuff he wouldn't want others finding.

In the near dark he accidentally kicked the side of a chair that made a loud scraping sound. His heart raced and he froze...

No stirring from within the house. Tate was definitely gone.

With that knowledge giving him new found confidence he dropped his ultra quiet movements and just walked over to the desk, rifling through any drawers that were unlocked. His torchlight unveiled no useful documents; time for the locked drawers.

In his (in hind sight, perhaps misguided) desperation for revenge James had actually learned how to lock pick, so the simple cam locks on these drawers were nothing.

Before he could even pull open his first drawer, however, the lights exploded on, dazzling his dark-accustomed eyes. The door to the study burst open and in charged a bare chested and barefoot Tate with a baseball bat clutched in his strong hands. The furious look on his face evaporated any and all confidence that James had mustered.

"Sullivan?" Tate's eyes didn't lose any of their fury, but slight amusement and incredulity crept in. "You broke into my fucking house?" The guttural cackle that followed woke James up to the folly he had committed. What was he thinking? Breaking and fucking entering?

"I-I can explain!" James fumbled, trying to stand up from his sitting position. Tate strode over and grabbed him by the arm, yanking him up.

"Oh you'll fucking explain all right. You'll do a lot more than that."

"Don't call the police! Please! I'm begging you!"

"I'll show you begging." Tate muttered, dragging a half-standing James who was resisting in vain. Tate was stronger than he had realised; his grip was like a vice. "I'm not gonna call the police, you plebeian. Once I'm finished with you you'll be wishing I had."

"W-What are you gonna do to me?" James stammered as he was dragged through the house to an unknown destination.

"Well, I don't want to spoil the surprise do I?"

James was dropped to the floor and pinned by a foot while a door was unlocked by a key with red ribbon tied to it in a bow.

"Just you wait till you see what's behind this door." Tate glanced down at his captive. "I bet you'll laugh."