"Fucking shit!" he ripped open the drawer next to him, grabbed some napkins from the box inside, and used them to pathetically try and soak up the spilled liquid that now stained all his papers.
"Motherfucker!" he tossed the wet napkins into the garbage by his leg under the desk. Apparently whoever set the monitor up didn't realize they left the volume all the way up, or maybe they did and it was just for shits. It was the first time she had spoken, at least close enough for the microphone on the camera to pick it up.
"Is anyone there?...anyone listening?" he turned down the volume to a normal rate, sitting back in his chair. She sat at the end of the bed, her bare legs bowing gently off the edge. Her hands in her lap started to fidget with the end of her shirt.
"I was wondering if I could talk to someone...if it wouldn't be too much trouble" she tried, gently leaning forward "I just...sort of... I guess I have some questions..." She couldn't stop her hands from shaking as she waited for a response, but nothing came. She felt foolish, probably talking to nobody but herself. Though, even if no one was listening, perhaps it would still be cathartic to talk.
"It's just...this has all been a bit...overwhelming" Her voice cracked at the end, and she bit her lower lip to stop it from trembling. He huffed, picking up his pen and trying to get back to his work, ignoring her. He knew he could have easily muted her audio, but for some reason, he felt compelled not to.
"I've done all you asked" She attempted again, and he sighed, running his hands through his hair. He wanted her to be quiet, but that didn't seem like it was going to happen. "You see... I'm...I guess I'm just curious" She laced her fingers together to stop their twitching "Not that I'm ungrateful" she was quick to exclaim in assurance
"But...I can't help but wonder-"
"What?!" the voice made her jump, nearly falling off the bed. She regained her grip on the duvet, staring up at the camera with wide eyes of disbelief. It was him. He had been the one watching her after all. It felt violating somehow. She suspected he had a hair-trigger temper, and it was certainly wearing an ugly facade, she could sense it through his tone. It rattled her nerves, even the thought of him nearby did that.
"I wanted to know, why I'm here" Her voice lost some conviction, he could tell. But, she seemed determined. He tried to think of it from her side, after all, this had happened so fast. In her position, he probably would have been losing his mind, in a way the fact that she hadn't thrown shit around rather impressed him. She was good under pressure, she knew how to shut it off just like he did. He still didn't want to bother with any of this, but he suspected not giving her an answer would just lead to her continuing to bother the shit out of him until he lost his temper and did something rash. Perhaps he should answer her now when his mind was more lucid, he was only on his second glass of whiskey. He couldn't tell her everything, certainly that was too risky, but at least he could claim to her something with at least a hint of truth to it.
"You are here to protect my business interests" his words, they confused her, raising her eyebrows in surprise. She couldn't understand what he had meant, what did she have to do with his business? His answer had done nothing but cause the raising of numerous other questions. She wanted to open her mouth, start talking and never stop. But, she thought that she probably shouldn't push her luck, he was obviously being vague. Perhaps it was something she'd have to work at across time, putting the pieces together, if he ever allowed her to talk to him again that is.
"W-What is this place?...this place, is your business?"
"It's an apartment building" he retorted plainly. Granted, with the access to services they got in this place was more like a resort, but he wanted to put it simply. "I own it" She could sense the slight narcissism within his tone on that one, it certainly didn't impress her, but she wasn't going to say that aloud. The last thing she needed to do was make him defensive. So, that must mean that the people who live in this building are his employees? right? like employee housing?
"Ok..." she rubbed her arms in discomfort. Although her hands were warm, the skin she touched was cold, and covered in goosebumps. "W-What kind of w-work do you do?" he dreaded that question. He knew it was going to come with this particular line of questioning. He sighed, putting his head in his hands. It was loud enough for the microphone to pick up, and she thought that this certainly was where she poked the bear one too many times. How do I say this?
"I'm a businessman, I sell products with the demand," he spoke with an edge, his tone definitely signalled his want to end the questioning of this particular subject. But, for some reason, despite her better judgment, she found the words tumble from her lips
"So, you're like...a CEO?" her question was quizzical of course. Although she wasn't in his physical presence, he found his shoulders shrug. He never really thought of his job like that, no one had ever called him a CEO, they only called him Satan
"A Co-CEO, in a way...I guess" he retorted. She was starting to give him a headache, he reached for the glass of whiskey next to him, took a large swig, and felt the burn as it traveled down his throat, leaving its stain behind on his conscious.
"How d-did you get the job...?" He hadn't expected that question, it surprised him just slightly. She was walking on thin ice already, he certainly wasn't fond of that. He felt the need to suddenly snap back a retort telling her to go fuck herself, that last mouthful of alcohol probably brought that on more than anything. He wasn't a nice drunk. But, rather than letting the words fly from his lips, a hesitation held his tongue.
The question caused a sudden ruckus in his brain, the memories of life before then, when he was young and small, fiery, and brought shame to his family. He hadn't gotten the job at all, the job had always been his, from the moment he had taken his first breath of life. Growing up had simply been a crash course for what he was to face later. His father on his sixth birthday had gifted him a 22 Caliber pistol, with etchings and engravings he remembered running his fingers over thousands of times. His tenth birthday present had been the chance to sit in on his first 'interrogation', so they called it. But that title was misleading. No questions were asked, the bloody-crusted man with the swollen face was simply knocked around until he screamed what they had wanted to know, spattering red on the floor as it drained like drool from his chin. His father did horrible things, and Max was taught to do the same.
His 14th birthday had been one he would never forget, the most meaningful in the world of Hell. He was finally old enough to take initiation, cementing his position as a member of Hell's Heaven rather than being a freeloader. His parents had thrown a party, renting a large ballroom that held too much white and shine for his comfort. He was the grandson of an originator, which meant that everyone important had to be there. The other leaders, older men and women dressed in dark shades, clanking their poor whine glasses, conversing and smiling sweetly into his eyes, insisting he had such a bright future ahead of him, that there was so much waiting for him in the world. But, it was nothing but empty words brought on by idealistic fantasies. That was made very clear about halfway through, when a shot rang out, shattering a high window. The glass came falling like rain all over the people below, sending everyone to the floor, pulling out their own weapons and preparing for a fight. But, it was only one shot, and it only hit one person. He watched as his mother's white lace dress started to morph to red as her blood soaked through, spreading like a virus. The woman collapsed only moments after into a heap amongst the shards, eyes fading like life. Max had only watched, too stunned to move or speak as his father threw into hysterics, gripping his wife in shaky arms as she folded back, all the strength in her body now gone, leaving nothing but a disgusting flop of life that once moved, spoke, and laughed. He hadn't even gotten the chance to say goodbye.
He shuttered, reaching out for the glass with a quick hand, emptying the rest of the liquid into his mouth, forcing it down his throat, and slamming the empty glass on the desk.
He hadn't answered her and as the moments passed she wasn't sure if she should say something to bring him back in case his mind had wandered. But, she thought it best to stay silent, turning away from the camera, and headed for the closet to change into a pair of pajamas for the night, suspecting that his lack of answer meant their conversation was over.
"Family business" his sudden voice startled her, clenching fingers tighter into the shirt between them.
YOU ARE READING
His Angel
Romance"You have a name, don't you?" his voice was deep and irritable, but rather calm. Her eyes lifted just slightly, now staring at the edges of dark hair that hung an inch or two from his shoulders. Her lack of answer seemed to annoy him further, she co...
