REFICUL

“Are you done yet with your bitching?” My blood runs cold at the blatant aggression in his tone. His heels pat softly on the carpeted flooring making his way toward me. In his wake the room freezes, the temperature dropping rapidly. Although I want to flee I refrain, he’s already pissed and I don’t want to drag this along any further. The man looks at me with wide angered eyes, his nostrils flaring as he spoke, "You best watch your fucking mouth. It would be wise Mr. Fletcher, you know what I'm capable of." I grit my teeth and lock my jaw and clench my fists to keep myself from firing any hostile remarks. 

"You're truly admirable on paper but standing here all you do is complain. Sign the damn papers, for your safety— as of now, you know too much." I bristle at the blatant threat. I've dealt with it before, yet this time it actually sent a sliver of fear down my spine. This wasn’t a threat, it was a promise. 

He turned to the side and grabbed a pen and the stack of papers, turning back towards me. Holding out the items I slowly take them in. The line for my signature burns in my eyesight as I make a move to sign them. Is this what a midlife crisis is? Am I officially selling my soul to the Devil? 

I looked up and met his piercing ruby gaze and flinched away, turning back to the paper. My hand moves on instinct. In seconds the freedom I once had is gone. Taking in a jagged deep breath I hand the pile over to the man in front of me. His hooded eyes gaze into my own with a guarded expression, “You can leave now.” He snaps out, grasping the papers tightly in his hands. The veins almost burst at the seams as the papers audibly crinkle in his hold. My own stubbornness has me digging my feet into their firmly planted spot. 

Boom! The stack of papers slams on his desk in a haste, papers fluttering every which way as his jaw locks. Out of the corner of my eyes, I see it. Lucio thinks he’s so slick, quickly pulling out the knife– but It’s sloppy at best. He takes another step closer, way too close for my own comfort, “Listening here you fucking bastard–” My hands connect with a chest, shoving him backward as I take a defensive stance. 

My left foot slides back giving me an equal weight distribution, “I don’t want to be here just as much as you don’t want me here, believe me. If I still had my gun on me I could stage your murder like a damn suicide and get away with it like nothing. What you say doesn’t fucking scare me, I’ve heard it all before and I know what I say doesn’t scare you. So why don’t you stop acting like you’re the best of the fucking best and act like a somewhat civilized human being.” Each word I animate with anger in my facial expressions and movements. Once he finally takes in all I had to say the redhead takes a deep breath. “At least you can handle my bullshit…” I hear him mutter. 

Fighting a smile I move back into a more neutral position as his grip loosens. “Congratulations you got the job.” Lucio retorts sarcastically. “Can I have your phone number or email so I can get all the information that you didn’t read to you in a more organized and simplified manner? With a quick nod, I swipe my phone from my back pocket. We silently exchange contact information and I watch as his body language reverts to a less hostile and more relaxed form. His knife disappears back into its hidden pocket glittering as it goes peacefully.

“I look forward to what you’re capable of, Noah.” He sticks his hand out and I grasp it in a firm handshake. His hand is warm, oddly comforting reminding me of my hometown. With these thoughts in mind, I quickly pull away, “Thank you for this offer, truly.” I genuinely state, Lucio sticks his hands behind his back linking them together. A final nod from him and I turn my back on the man, he’s no longer a threat I chant. Goosebumps cover my skin wanting to see his next move but I refrain, walking towards the door.

“Have a good rest of your day, Noah.” Sticking to my path I open the door and walk out, shutting it with a soft click behind me. I pace down the hall, scattering away from the doors and locking my sight on the elevator. My brain finally comprehends the situation and I glower. Reaching the elevator I call for it and tap my foot in wonder. That bastard was talking down on me like I was some fucking little kid! I grit my teeth as the metal doors open and step in. Standing off to the side like previously my anger boils. 

That pompous rich bastard! How dare he treat me like that! I hope he chokes on an expensive seven-course seafood platter from a three-star Michelin restaurant. I cross my arms over my chest, stifling the urge of punching a wall in. I take a deep breath in and move to press the correct button, ground level.

As the elevator climbs down the realization sets in and so does the accompanying depression. I have to work under that man for as long as he wants as his personal bodyguard. The depression sets in, and I have to accompany him everywhere. As soon as those thoughts render so does another, I have never been a bodyguard before. I’ve only ever been an escort from a dangerous spot to a less dangerous one. 

I let out a long sigh, the last ding of the elevator rings clear, the metal doors opening in my wake. Stepping out, the rush of others surrounds me. The chattering, the beeping, and even typing on keyboards drive me insane. I hustle out the two big glass doors and away from the scene. Taking in the warm sun it soaks into my skin warming my body from the previously cold building I resided in. 

My feet follow the path home as I take in the passing people to my right and left. Children point and some staring in fear or wonder when their eyes grasp my scars. I just have to get used to it though. With this new job, we’ll both draw unwanted attention. Yet I can’t just ignore the attention I have to pay attention to it and make sure some eyes aren’t out to kill me or him. Each step drags me closer home, yet each pair of eyes drags me closer to suffocation. 

My pace picks speed when my destination comes into sight, glancing over across the street my eyes stumble across Eveline watering her garden of flowers on her front lawn. A brief smile flashes across my face as I watch the old woman in wonder. Turning away I shake my head and open up my gate with a soft clank. Walking up the path I rub my eyes. 

I’ll just quickly change, maybe grab some coffee on my way, and head to physical therapy. Hopefully, I won’t be late at all… With a huff, I kick at a small rock walking up the rickety steps to my porch. I should really work on this dump of a damn porch. Moving to the door I turn the knob and walk in, knowing damn well I didn’t lock it after closing it last. 

I'm again greeted by my cold, dark, and empty kitchen as I slip my wallet and keys from my pocket. Before I can take my phone out as well it vibrates with a notification. Speeding up my action I draw my phone and see the flash of a text message from an unknown number. Typing in my password with just a few clicks I open up the text message. 

|| Under AZZAM You Have Signed ‘YES’ to This Agreement. ||

• Under any circumstance, AZZAM is not held accountable for any of your actions.

• If a plot against AZZAM is discovered you hereby agree if you have any correlation the necessary dictated actions are authorized.

• Any information spread about AZZAM outside of the immediate group will result in your termination.

• In any situation LUCIFER is found in harm you will give your life in order to serve.

• If…

As I continue to read more and more my unease and confusion grow. What the fuck have I truly gotten myself into?