lot more tact than I would’ve
managed. I spent the next few restless hours drifting in and out of sleep,
dosed up to the eyeballs with pain killers. Jack had done a great job with
removing the blade without any complications. I expected nothing less from him,
he is the best I know and a perfectionist.
Beth’s note said to call her. On Friday, I
must’ve picked up my phone thirty times to do just that, to see if she was
okay, if we were okay. I was battling with myself like being on the
world’s worst see-saw. Asking what the right thing to do was. Questioning
whether this is the time to cut the ties. Hence my dick move when out of
frustration I threw the phone up the wall, shattering it.
Shortly after, Jack strolled into the bedroom
as calm as ever, picked up the pieces and simply said ‘Bethany’s fine by the
way, I messaged her.’ I didn’t respond, I didn’t need to. Jack’s a fucking
good guy, one of only a few people I trust with my life.
Carmel called on a burner phone she’d left to
discuss what I wanted to do about my target guy. As much as I wanted to deal
with him myself, I had to consider the marginal possibility that whilst he
remained unaccounted for, he could be throwing his money into tracking me down.
Now, the intention was never to kill him. I was
going to damage his dick and then damage his bank account. But time was of the
essence so I conceded to handing his limp dick over to Carmel to deal with.
Once she finished with him Friday night, he’d have a constant reminder of the
consequences bestowed upon him for believing that his wealth entitled him to a
free passage to sexually abuse underage children—taking the term ‘filthy rich’
to the utmost extremity.
His second blow will come later today when I
fire up my laptop and make a huge dent in that wealth by way of my hacking
expertise, along with a little help from a contact of mine in the financial
industry. My associate will ensure the transactions look legitimate even though
the prick wouldn’t dare alert the police anyway. Finally, once my contact has
laundered the funds, I’ll make an anonymous deposit into the fourteen year old boy’s
parents’ bank account. I’ll keep the remaining funds as my fee.
Jobs like this always carry a fee but it’s never
payable by the victims. They’re never financially disadvantaged. Nine times out
of ten the culprit has more than enough wads stacked to cover my costs and
their compensation. The compensation is always at my discretion and never in
the agreement with the client.
All they ever want is justice. That could be public
or in silence or screaming in ball crushing agony. Anything to give them some peace
of mind and hopefully to help them sleep better at night. Any money that they
receive directly, isn’t given with the view that it pays for whatever crime was
committed. It’s always with the view that it will be used to help them move
forward, whether that’s to ease stress from paying off debts or uprooting and
moving to make a fresh start or even to fucking burn as a symbolic ‘fuck you’.
Saturday morning after Beth contacted Jack and
when I finally got to hear her voice, I felt lifted. Her voice, although it was
etched with uncertainty, was the equivalent to her wrapping her arms around my
waist and burying her head in my chest. I itched to see her and things got a
whole lot better when I awoke and found her laying beside me.
When our eyes met I swear I caught mine
whispering to her, willing her to tell me she loved me again. Fuck being
stabbed, that was the scariest shit of this whole scenario right there.
So life is back on track and although Beth’s
back at Wills, we’re okay. I’m feeling motivated. First things first, I need to
straighten things out with Carmel. I use the burner phone again but this’ll be
the last call I make on it before ditching it. She answers immediately.
“Is everything alright?”
“Friday
managed. I spent the next few restless hours drifting in and out of sleep,
dosed up to the eyeballs with pain killers. Jack had done a great job with
removing the blade without any complications. I expected nothing less from him,
he is the best I know and a perfectionist.
Beth’s note said to call her. On Friday, I
must’ve picked up my phone thirty times to do just that, to see if she was
okay, if we were okay. I was battling with myself like being on the
world’s worst see-saw. Asking what the right thing to do was. Questioning
whether this is the time to cut the ties. Hence my dick move when out of
frustration I threw the phone up the wall, shattering it.
Shortly after, Jack strolled into the bedroom
as calm as ever, picked up the pieces and simply said ‘Bethany’s fine by the
way, I messaged her.’ I didn’t respond, I didn’t need to. Jack’s a fucking
good guy, one of only a few people I trust with my life.
Carmel called on a burner phone she’d left to
discuss what I wanted to do about my target guy. As much as I wanted to deal
with him myself, I had to consider the marginal possibility that whilst he
remained unaccounted for, he could be throwing his money into tracking me down.
Now, the intention was never to kill him. I was
going to damage his dick and then damage his bank account. But time was of the
essence so I conceded to handing his limp dick over to Carmel to deal with.
Once she finished with him Friday night, he’d have a constant reminder of the
consequences bestowed upon him for believing that his wealth entitled him to a
free passage to sexually abuse underage children—taking the term ‘filthy rich’
to the utmost extremity.
His second blow will come later today when I
fire up my laptop and make a huge dent in that wealth by way of my hacking
expertise, along with a little help from a contact of mine in the financial
industry. My associate will ensure the transactions look legitimate even though
the prick wouldn’t dare alert the police anyway. Finally, once my contact has
laundered the funds, I’ll make an anonymous deposit into the fourteen year old boy’s
parents’ bank account. I’ll keep the remaining funds as my fee.
Jobs like this always carry a fee but it’s never
payable by the victims. They’re never financially disadvantaged. Nine times out
of ten the culprit has more than enough wads stacked to cover my costs and
their compensation. The compensation is always at my discretion and never in
the agreement with the client.
All they ever want is justice. That could be public
or in silence or screaming in ball crushing agony. Anything to give them some peace
of mind and hopefully to help them sleep better at night. Any money that they
receive directly, isn’t given with the view that it pays for whatever crime was
committed. It’s always with the view that it will be used to help them move
forward, whether that’s to ease stress from paying off debts or uprooting and
moving to make a fresh start or even to fucking burn as a symbolic ‘fuck you’.
Saturday morning after Beth contacted Jack and
when I finally got to hear her voice, I felt lifted. Her voice, although it was
etched with uncertainty, was the equivalent to her wrapping her arms around my
waist and burying her head in my chest. I itched to see her and things got a
whole lot better when I awoke and found her laying beside me.
When our eyes met I swear I caught mine
whispering to her, willing her to tell me she loved me again. Fuck being
stabbed, that was the scariest shit of this whole scenario right there.
So life is back on track and although Beth’s
back at Wills, we’re okay. I’m feeling motivated. First things first, I need to
straighten things out with Carmel. I use the burner phone again but this’ll be
the last call I make on it before ditching it. She answers immediately.
“Is everything alright?”
“Friday
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