“And?” Mike said, trying to get Eric to continue.
His friend’s strained expression clearly showed how difficult bringing up the past was for his companion. Yet, the only way he would be able to help him was to get him to admit what had happened. Not to mention, it might help them find the least painful way to terminate the abusive relationship Chad Jr. was in.
Eric displayed a crooked grin, but remained silent.
“You don’t want to say the rest?” Mike asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Or unable to?”
Eric shook his head and began to stare deep into Mike’s eyes. “My uncle told me he loved me,” he said in a tone, not unlike one would use if confessing a sin he was guilty of, to a priest. “and the way he touched me felt really good ... so ...”
Suddenly, a scream from Sarah, who was in the front office, abruptly interrupted the conversation. And soon afterward, Eric’s office door exploded open.
“So, you’re the two guys who haven’t learned to keep your nose out of other people’s business,” a lone, hooded gunman carrying a semi-automatic loudly said, pointing its barrel directly at Eric’s now rapidly beating heart.
The gunman’s outfit was camouflage, his mask, a black polyester ski mask. Through each eye hole, flashing black pupils nervously watched their every move. His features, what little could be seen, indicated he was young and of Latin descent.
“Who are you?” Eric said after verifying Mike was okay. “And what in the Hell are you talking about?”
The Latino gazed at his outspoken victim and chuckled. “Who I am isn’t really important. In regards to what I said ... Isn’t that obvious? You know what you told Chad Jr.’s mother you would agree to do. And now, the two of you had better start saying your final prayers – cause I’m about to send you to the promise land.”
Eric nodded he understood and discretely reached for the button under his desk’s main drawer. His desktop phone rang less than a second later.
“Damn. Aren’t you going to get that?” the Latino asked, looking perturbed when the unanswered phone rang for the third time.
It seemed each ring increased the gunman’s nervousness, and the barrel of his semi-automatic began to shake.
Eric looked at his phone, but deliberately didn’t reach for it.
“Answer it, you fool,” the Latino shouted. “But if you dare indicate anything’s wrong, I swear I’ll shoot your ass.”
Eric calmly gazed at the Latino’s panicked expression and slowly raised the phone’s receiver.
“Rainy Day Construction. Eric here. There’s never a better time to start your new project than today.”
“Yes, Eric,” a voice said loud enough to be overheard. “Did Order 5556623 arrive? We need to install it, asap.”
“Yes, Mr. Clapton. But ....”
The whole conversation only took a couple of minutes – and soon after the order was confirmed, near the ceiling, just above the window in Eric’s office, multiple built-in security cameras using micro-size lens started silently recording.
Mike unconsciously gazed toward them.
“You son-of-a-bitch,” the gunman shouted, noticing the semi-hidden lens in the vicinity where Mike looked. “I originally had only intended to scare you, but now you’ve sealed your fate. I’ll have to tell Felipe, I had no choice.”
“Felipe?” Eric repeated. “There’s no way in hell you’d be talking about Felipe Alvarez, would you?”
The Latino gave him a stern look. “Yeah. He’s a cousin of mine in Arica, Chile. He paid me to get your nose out of the relationship between him and Chad Jr.”
Eric paused, before responding. “And how much do you know about their relationship?”
The Latino shifted his rifle and chuckled. “I don’t have to know anything, my friend. When you’re paid to do a job, you don’t need the details.”
Mike nodded his agreement, and it happened.
At least twenty shots rang out before the lone gunman holding his rifle close, proceeded to scramble out the door.
“Mike. Eric. Are you okay?” Sarah asked, seconds later, upon fleeing from underneath her receptionist’s desk toward her boss’s office.
The sight before her almost immediately made her nauseated.
“This is 9-1-1. Do you have an emergency?” a voice asked via a desktop phone, while down the hall, the sound of two sets of elevator doors opening could be heard.
In the elevator going down – a lone gunman calmly stood. In the other – a combo of police and paramedics rushed out the moment the steel doors opened.
They quickly discovered on two locales on the floor of Eric’s office –warm, dark-red blood had pooled beside two late 30-something male victims. They, along with their now ghost-white secretary, were quickly loaded onto an awaiting ambulance.
Not long afterward, resonating sirens blasted NYC streets as a journey to the local hospital commenced.
Yet, despite the bright flashing lights, and loud decibels pelting out of the vehicle’s speakers, not a single New York City resident’s head turned.