The Catch!

WELLINGTON’S POV

It all starts coming back to me, not like a memory, but a wound reopening.

It feels like yesterday… not twenty-one years ago… when I stood in the middle of a room filled with men and women who reeked of filth, and yet controlled the world.

Children, teenage girls, masked men and women. Cigarette smoke choking the air.

White powder spread across glass tables.

Ashtrays overflowing.

Loud, hollow and evil laughter.

“Boy, more wine.” A masked man thunders, his voice thick with drugs. He laughs like a beast, already high out of his mind.

I nod quickly, lowering my eyes the way we were trained to.

Be invisible, silent and obedient and everything will be okay and you'll earn your freedom.

I take his empty glass and move through the hallway, my small legs carrying me back to where the supplies are kept.

“More wine,” I say quietly, pushing the glass forward.

A naked woman stands behind the counter.

Her face is empty and lifeless. She doesn’t speak.

She just reaches for a bottle… slips a white pill into it… shakes it slowly… then pours half into the glass I’m holding.

No hesitation or display of emotion. We were all trained like this. Just know your place, do your job perfectly. Or you disappear, and be fed to the vultures.

I turn and begin walking back toward the “party room.”

That’s what they called it.

A party.

My stomach twists even in the memory.

Then she appears. A tall woman. Her mask is not like the others in the party room.

She steps in front of me, blocking my path, and then she smiles gently… wrong for a place like that.

She crouches down to my height.

“You’re doing a good job,” she says warmly.

My fingers tighten around the glass.

“A gift for you?”

She pulls out a small wristwatch from her purse and holds it out to me.

I looked around in fear, we were warned to never speak, accept anything or look them in the eyes.

I shake my head quickly in refusal. She sees my fear and knows that what she asks puts me in danger, but her smile doesn’t fade.

“It’s from my heart,” she says softly, placing a hand to her chest. “You’ll break my little heart if you refuse.”

And before I can move, she presses it into my palm…

My phone vibrates in my hand, shattering the memory. I blink hard, dragging myself back into the present.

My chest rises sharply as I inhale.

Private number.

I hesitate… then answer.

“It is Dwayne.” His deep voice slides through the line like smoke.

“I expected your call last night,” I reply, my tone steady even though my pulse isn’t.

“It is not easy to convince the Masters,” he says. “But they want to meet you now.”

A pause.

“I wish you luck.”

My brows knit together.

“How—”

The line goes dead and I stare at my phone.

That’s it?

No time. No place. No details.

Just… now. And he wishes me luck? Fuck him! A slow breath leaves my lips. I should be excited.

This is what I’ve been working toward for years.

I’ve built trust with Dwayne Frenchman, a drug lord, a gatekeeper, a loyal dog to the Brotherhood.

I’ve proven myself, bled for it, played their game and now I’m being called in.

I don’t open my phone again.

I stand, grab my suit jacket, and take my keys from my desk drawer.

I’m about to leave when the door opens.

“A package for you, sir.” My P.A. walks in, holding a sealed carton.

I rack my head to figure out when I made orders for something and find none, so I look at him with a deep frown.

“From who? I don’t remember ordering anything.”

“I’m sorry, sir. There’s no return address. The doorman brought it in.”

Something cold settles in my gut.

“Put it on the table and leave.”

He obeys immediately.

And as the door closes behind him, I stare at the box sitting on the table. My instincts scream at me to leave it and walk away.

But a part of me tells me to open it. So I move closer, sit down and begin opening it.

Each tear of the tape feels too loud in the quiet room. My chest tightens as I tear the box open until the flaps open.

And there it is. A white mask with black and golden stripes.

My breath stops. That mask. I know what it means once I recognize it.

The Masters.

The real ones.

The ones behind everything.

The ones who sit in shadows while the world burns at their command.

My fingers curl into fists.

I don’t touch it. I can’t. Not yet.

Instead, I close the box immediately and seal it again.

My jaw tightens. They’re inviting me.

I grab the box and walk out quickly.

My car is already waiting.

I place the box carefully on the passenger seat where I can see it. I get into the driver’s seat and start the engine.

“I’m getting close, Regina…” I whisper under my breath. I expect excitement to surge through me as usual, but I feel nothing.

I haven’t driven far when I notice it a car following me.

I glance at the mirror and I exhale slowly. It is not the first time, probably won’t be the last.

Desperate dogs chasing scraps, but I don’t have time for this. So I scan the road ahead, looking for an exit… but I see a truck heading straight toward me.

My eyes widen and I yank the wheel.

Tyres screech as the car jerks violently, stepping on the accelerator, I bring it to a halt in the middle of the road.

The truck speeds past me and slams into the car behind me. A loud crash echoes and glass shatters.

Before I can react, the black SUV behind me swerves and cuts across. It blocks my path and a door flies open.

A man jumps out with a knife in hand charging toward me.

My ears ring as everything slows and my eyes turn blurry.

He reaches my door, yanks it open and grabs me

“Save me!”

The voice hits me like a bullet.

Her voice.

Her face flashes, blood bathed, screaming, something inside me snaps.

I move fast and strike before he can. My fist connects with his jaw, throwing him off balance so that he stumbles back…

That's when I hear the sound of metal dragging, clinking, rattling…

My breath stops.

No.

No… not now.

My hands fly to my ears.

I drop to my knees.

“No… no, no, no… This isn't real.”

They’re back. 

The chains tighten around my hands, cutting into my skin, sending pain through my whole body, eating deep into my veins and burning my ankles.

Fire.

Screams.

The smell of flesh.

“You still remember this?” A taunting voice mocks right behind me.

I stop moving when something cold presses against my cheek.

A blade.

“It is a sound of victory for me… and defeat for you.”

My chest tightens.

I can’t breathe.

“Don’t ever forget it, Chane.”

My vision shakes.

“I am always watching you.” The blade slides across my skin.

Deliberate.

Warm blood follows.

And clink, the knife drops to the ground, footsteps pound heavily as the chains begin to fade.

The sound disappears.

The fire dies.

The screams stop.

Silence.

I open my eyes and I am alone, standing in the middle of the road, people stare at me.

Cars stopped, whispers rising. I raise my hand to my face and there's no blood there. My chest heaves and my hands continue to tremble.

I turn slowly, my car is still there and the driver's door is open. The box is still sitting on the passenger seat.

I walk back in, close the door, start the engine and drive off. Thank God the police hadn't arrived at the scene and it didn't last long enough for the few people that witnessed the scene to record. I can't have my face out there.

“Rain… call Affleck,” I grit out, my voice breaking slightly.

“Calling Affleck.”

The line connects.

“Yes, boss.”

“Get me the pills.”

A pause.

“Shit… the illusions are back?”

I tighten my grip on the steering wheel and my knuckles turn white.

My eyes flick once to the box beside me, then back to the road.

My voice drops as if I'm talking to myself. “They never left.”