Something Of Value

The minute I stepped through the door, I knew that there was going to be trouble. The look on Hunter King’s face was absolutely priceless. I can for certain say that the last man he expected to see this evening would have been Christian Caine.

So I am completely satisfied with myself that I have come unannounced and even yet uninvited. Now the man is only staring me down with fury burning in those hazel eyes, we have never sat fair around any table, and I am not about to change that tonight. But civil is what I shall be, for I am after all crashing this man’s party.

With one very reluctant hand, he reaches towards mine, “Did not think I would see Christian Caine tonight.” He goes silent, but for a few moments, then he finally speaks again, “In fact, I do not recall sending you an invite.”

I only but smirk at him and shrug my shoulders, “You must have forgotten, King. For I can clearly recall receiving one.”

As I shake his hand, it feels like a million daggers are piercing into my skin. The mere thought of having this gesture with the man I hate the most does bring a sick feeling to my stomach. And it is with great thanks that he keeps it as brief as possible, yet if I thought the conversation would be just as short, I am sadly mistaken.

“Why do you not have a seat at our table?” He proceeds to point to a table that is clearly placed rather obviously in front of all the others. “You shall find Raven there. Now, if you will excuse me, I am hoping not to see any more surprise guests.”

Well, this has now blown up in my face, and my princess cannot help but contain her laughter, “You wanted to come to play with the big boys, now you have to sit with them.”

“Princess, the only big boy here is me. In fact, the only man here is me; the rest of these fools are the boys that like to sit and play with their guns.”

And that is when her face lights up, “Please don’t tell me that you are going to shoot anyone tonight?”

I burst out in a fit of uncontrollable laughter, “Princess, I am dumb, but I am not that fucking stupid.”

“Mr. Caine, you better watch that mouth.”

“Why? Are you going to give me a scolding? I can find us a room in an instant.”

With that, she only but laughs me off as she takes a seat next to King’s girlfriend, Raven. The fact that the man has actually kept a woman on his arm for longer than a week should be a record on its own. Guess, yet perhaps, he is becoming weak. Or at least I know what his weakness is, though if you take that, it is my very own.

Then much to my own disgust, King finally joins the table. Now, the man has just adjusted his pants rather awkwardly; it is quite clear that he has gone to arm himself. If he thinks that I would have come in here without my Ruger, then he is seriously mistaken.

So as Raven whisks Cassandra off and they get lost into the crowd from each table to the other, I am left alone with Hunter. While I am slowly sipping on a chilled glass of whiskey, he makes the bold move to come and sit closer. Now, if I was any other man, this is where I would be shitting myself. I know that his only intention is to intimidate me, yet he does not know that the Christian Caine he used to know has grown up from being that boy into this man.

And as he slides in slowly, he raises his voice but only a pitch, “So what are you really doing here, Caine?”

“I felt quite insulted when I found out you are having this whole dress up without even extending an invitation. So I saw it fit to invite myself. Now, is that a problem?”

He looks at me from underneath his thick eyelashes, “The only problem here, Caine, is you. Can I assume that you will not be shooting anyone tonight?”

“You do sound like Cassandra,” Then I pause for a moment to take another sip from my glass. “If I wanted to shoot anybody, I would have done it already. Can I assume that you would not be shooting anyone either?”

“Test my patience, and I will.” He remains quiet for a moment, then just as soon as the conversation started, he changes the subject, “So tell me about this, Cassandra? I heard that she is Joseph Cummings, daughter.”

Now that I truly find amusing, yet, I would not laugh at his stupidity in his face, so I only continue to explain, “She was Joseph Cummings’ daughter.”

“Oh,” he recalls all of a sudden, “The man is dead.”

“Yes,” I smile before I am about to shock him with horror, “She is the one that killed him.”

Well, that did render him completely speechless. After finding his voice, he speaks again, “So I am assuming that it is now your turf?”

“You do assume a lot, but, yes, it now belongs to me.”

What this man does not know is that soon everything that he owns will be mine to take. I have been planning this to utter perfection; this will not falter; I will claim what I stake. This is my fate, and as I have said before, fate is what takes you down that road you ever so often avoid taking. Sometimes the slightest things change the directions of your life, the merest breath of a circumstance, a random moment.

I am a man who plans every step that he takes. I would like to see where I am going and how I am going to get there. Some say live life on a daily basis; I say there is no room for surprises and unexpected things. There is no place for unpredictability, none for twists and turns around every corner. The truth is, if you do not control your outcome, your life will end up in shit. I have always believed, and I still believe, that whatever good or bad fortune may come your way, you can always give it meaning and transform it into something of value.

And value is what Hunter King has, and that is the value that I will be taking. So before he rises from his chair to go find a waiter for another bottle of whiskey, he ever so politely turns to me, “Caine, I will, one day, blow your fucking brains out.”

I only but nod my head and raise my glass to him, “That is what I am counting on, King. But you are mistaken about one thing.”

“Please entertain me and tell me what it is.”

“I, Christian Caine, will be the one that is blowing your fucking brains out. Now, I thought that we were going to play nice.”

“Caine, the only nice thing about you is that perky ass of your fiancé.”

Well, does my restraint snap, or do I allow him to speak that way of Cassandra. So without a single wink, he continues to speak again, “How does it feel to spank that?”

“I don’t know King, how does it feel to fuck Raven?”

And that I should perhaps not have said, though he does not wait but one second to retaliate, “I am sure that sweet piece of ass knows how to flick that tongue around your head.”

Ya, that is Christian Caine.

Taking my stance, I look at him with only but a smirk on my face. "You are going to pay for that.”

I watch as he stands only but a few inches away from me, with hands by his side; I hear the most hideous laughter coming from his mouth. “Oh, what are you going to do, Caine?”

His eyes seem wild with fire; there is a fury and determination behind them as he starts to close that gap between us. He is going to ram me, and god, he is going to ram hard. But I only ground my feet and wait for him to attempt to make an impact. As he reaches to grab me, I hold him by the arms, and in one swift movement, I smash into his chest, leaving him to fly back into the wall behind him.

He bursts out in anger as he jumps to his feet. "You are going to fucking pay for that.”

He charges like a bull towards me; I slide to the side and push him back into the same wall again. There is a slight crack as I push him deeper against it. There is a moan that rolls over his lips as he snaps his fist towards my cheek, though it does not even come close to making an impact.

Then I pull his body back towards me, my hand tangles in his hair. With utmost brute force, I slam his head straight into the very place he left that wall only moments ago.

He spins loose and smashes square into my body, driving me back to the center of the room. Then he crashes me into a table, cracking it right through. I watch as he slowly comes walking over; I am not on my feet yet; the crash has knocked my breath away.

Then he comes and stands over my body, "I am going to fucking kick your ass today."

I find myself being dragged from the floor. But I get loose from his grip and spin back onto my feet. With my feet grounded, I stare at him with eyes that are now starting to fill with anger, "You might as well give up because I am going to drop your ass."

Now, if I would think that this man shall stop and realize his foolish mistake, I am somewhat sadly mistaken. He only but advances for me again; this time, though, he is moving rather slow, ominous, he is taunting me.

As he comes charging at me, I only but laugh at him, "You are making a fateful mistake, King."

"The only one making a mistake is you, Caine."

With his words not yet from his lips, he shifts his feet at an incredible pace towards mine and reached his fist for my face, but I grab it in midair. I twist it behind his back; I step closer.

"You are going to regret that."

My grip goes firmer, and I push him off from his feet; he slides across the length of the floor.

I make my way to where he finds himself and yank him up by the shoulder and toss his body to the other side of the room.

He rises to his feet and reaches me in less than an inch of the second; as he looks to the side for a brief second, he fools me to do as well. Then he slams his hands around my shoulders and tosses me.

As I rise to my feet again, I slam a fist into his stomach. I am driving him with utmost force. Then I retract my arm and launch it back and land it square in his face. I hear a crack as my knuckles make the impact, then there is pitter-patter as blood comes streaming from his nose, then he drops to the floor.

But the man is a fool; he rises to his feet again. I push forward and scrum my entire body into his. He drops to the floor, and I immediately get on top of him, pinning his arms to the floor.

He comes for me again; as he drops my body to the floor, I fall to my knees. I launch to my feet and slam his body into a stack of chairs...

They crack,…then there is a loud cry.

Then, with absolute slow motion, there is the unified sound of what can be more than twenty, maybe more, but there is the click of a trigger that echoes through to every crack and crevice, to every corner.