Falling For Insanity

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

Eric's POV

"Don't try to pull one over on me now, Eric." Kale says, giving a look of defeat, as if this would be his last straw. "You're my best man. I really don't want to have to get rid of you."

I put a hand on my chest in mocking shock. "Pull one over on you? Me?" I wave the hand that was on my chest dismissively. "You know you have nothing to worry about when it comes to my loyalty."

He eyes me skeptically. "Then what is this all about? You never come to talk in person." Kale sits in his grand desk chair in his home office, chair turning from side to side as he waits for my response.

I had been planning on paying Kale a visit for about a week now. After giving him a call a couple days ago, he agreed to meet. Usually our business was done through simple phone calls so it did give him room for suspicion. But this hour or so drive would be worth both of our time.

Sitting in the chair on the other side of the desk, I lean forward a bit, resting my elbows on my knees as I got serious. "I know a way we can make a lot more money."

He chuckles. "I make a lot of money already, Eric. I highly doubt any idea you have is going to be worth my extra work for a small amount of profit."

"You haven't heard me out yet." I put my hands up between us, infecting for him to slow his roll. "What if you didn't have to lift a finger? Much like your and my situation." He arches an eyebrow, giving me a sign to continue. "Cash flow to you with only having to instruct."

He fiddles with the pen on his desk, spinning it around between his fingers. "So what are you saying? You found someone who can do what you do?"

Without any control, a smile spreads across my face.

"I found five."

Kale sits up straighter, hand dropping the pen to brace them both on the armrests of his chair. "What do you mean, five?"

"It means more hits we can do. It also means we can do them more often with the amount of extra hands." I explain. "We do one every handful of months. You know how much cash we make off of just one every so often. Imagine making that money multiple times a month."

He nods his head from side to side

"You say money can always come to an end." I remind him. "But enemies never do." Kale grins, letting out a huff of breath, catching on to where I'm going with this. "That's a lot of people to kill..."

"And a lot of money to make..." he finishes for me, the idea growing on him by the second. "What makes you think these men will do it?"

My smile gets bigger, the information I get to tell him just getting better and better. "There's two girls. One boy. Two men. You already know Cory."

"Kids?" He shakes his head. "No. f**k that. That's a recipe for disaster. I'll be locked up before the first bodies even cold."

"Trust me, Kale, these kids are smart." I assure him. "Not a one of them has any will to live but mass amounts of hate that they're ready to take out on someone else. Every one of them have a different reason as to why they need this money. All but one of them has experience."

"Experience?"

"Four of them have killed before. One of them has been present." I answer. "They want this, Kale."

His eyes dance around the room in thought.

"Cory and I can teach them everything they need to know." I go on. "They'll be just as good as us. We'll make them better. You'll have seven personal assassins, Kale. Truly picture the money and power that will come from that."

"You want this badly. Why?"

"I wish everyone that's capable, a life of luxury such as mine."

"You live an apart right off a college campus with not much to your name. What type of luxurious life are you living?" He scoffs.

He's lucky I work for him or I would act on how much I don't like what he just said. "I've got big plans." I simply tell him.

Kale is just oblivious to how big of a part he is playing and will continue to play in my plan. My minding of the rules and keeping my mouth shut when he speaks out of pocket to me would only have to be done a little while longer. I of course haven't told him this, but he's the reason I only do business with him through calls. No one wants to be around his miserable ass.

As funny as it is, I only first began orchestrating all of this when I met Rosie Mae. If this all goes to shit...she can blame herself for our downfalls. I have the same plan for all five of them that would lean them all in different places, where they should be. So far, everything is going smoothly.

Kale wouldn't be able to say that for himself in due time. I am loyal to no one. He should understand that, he's the one that taught me most of what I know after all. Trust no one...not even me. That was the first lesson he taught me, one that truly stuck with me. I've talked the talk all these years, it should be to no surprise when I walk the walk.

I absolutely hate that I have to be so cruel as turn my back on my boss, someone who's been an important figure most of my life. Though when it comes to my success...even he will fall victim in order for me to get what I'm after. Keyword being will. His fate is signed, sealed, it just has yet to be delivered.

It sounds very simple but it is quite complex; I will take over Kale's business by killing him. I am no fool though, I've thought out every detail extremely carefully.

I will already have people working for me once Kale is dead. That being Cory, Blake, Nathan, Willy, Faith, and Miss Rosie Mae. These are the same people who will help me execute my plan to murder Kale and take everything he's worked so hard for. After my slow grooming of the group of soon to be hit men (besides Cory of course), everything will start falling into action.

Everyone will get everything they deserve in the end.

They will love me.

I'll be everyone's hero.

"Train them." Kale orders, agreeing with my plan to employee the group. "Then you bring them to me. I want to meet them. If I am interested in going any further...I'll put the group of you to the test. But if any of this fails in any way, it's on your head."

It's actually on yours.

"Understood."

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

Rosie Mae's POV

"Rosie!" My mother called up the stairs. I sighed as she interrupted my extra credit assignment I had decided to do over the break. Amidst all the partying and huge life changes, I've barely found time to work on it. "Someone is here to see you!"

My face twisted into confusion. I don't even have Blake over to my place, he knows better than to just show up. Who could possibly be knocking on my door to see me?

I tie my hair up into a loose bun, glancing down at my black pajama shorts and white long sleeved t shirt. I wasn't aware we'd have company so this will have to do.

"Hey, I came to get that phone charger you said I could borrow."

I stare at Eric for a long few moments before looking at my mom who is in her own little trance, practically drooling over him as she stands by the front door. Not that I could blame her. We both knew the conversation about the phone charger didn't exist but I am of course expected to play along.

Due to the lack of wins during our arguments, I do what is wanted out of me. "Oh yeah, I completely forgot. You can come upstairs to get it."

"You aren't going to introduce me?" My mom asks, her drunk and high state making her light on her feet. It wasn't hidden, not even trying to be which made it a little embarrassing to have someone I know see her like this. Just another reason why no one's ever here.

Both Blake and Faith had only met my mother once. That was only because I felt obligated to have my boyfriend and best friend meet my mom or else the introduction would have never happened. There was nothing I had to be proud of when it came to her. Why show her off?

The interaction felt awkward, forced. I had no interest in telling my mom who Eric is. To avoid confrontation with her or any spiteful behavior, I do as she says.

"Um...this is Eric." I say resentfully. "Blake's brother."

Her eyes beam at the sound of him being related to Blake. Its disgusting. "It's very nice to meet you, Eric. I'm sure you can assume I'm Rosie's mom."

"I can see where she gets her beauty."

My mom is clearly in a daze by his charm, not realizing he casts some type of spell on every person he comes in contact with. It's kind of crazy to see it work on her though.

Never in my life have I witness her act anything close to this. She appeared almost...warm and loving? Gentle? It's as if her entire personality flipped, suddenly turning into the mother my sister and I had expected her to be, how anyone would expect their parent to be.

It wasn't like she even had to put on a show, it wasn't like I was ever going to allow him to come over again. He should've never showed up unannounced, especially given the conversation we had about my home life the other day. Maybe I should've expected nothing less from him.

"You're too kind." She actually blushes.

You'd think I'd be happy to see her this way but I'm not. It's pissing me off, repulsing me. Our begging and pleading at little ages had zero effect on her...but bring in a handsome man and she just might win "Mother Of The Year." It's not fair.

"So will we be seeing you around here more often?" She asks him. "That Blake never wants to come over for some reason. Always stealing Rosie away."

Eric's eyes flicker to me but he glides past the awkward comment with ease. "Blake's a busy body." He tells her with a grin, keeping it light. "If Rosie let's me, I'll come around more often."

My moms eyes meet my own and I can see the curiosity behind them, noticing the hint in his statement and wondering if there is something going on between us. I knew she didn't care enough to ask though so at least I didn't have to worry about her confronting me about it.

Part of me wanted her to though. I wish for her to be interested in my life even just the tiniest of bits. Everyone complains about getting grounded, their parents on their cases all the time...whereas I was envious of that. I sit back longing for a mother to care enough to ground me, care enough to keep tabs on me, ask where I'm going and get to know the people I hangout with.

Later in life, when all of those teenagers complaining about their overbearing parents are older with their own kids, I believe they will be thankful for how much their parents looked after them. I will be still in the same position, hoping my mother is even thinking of me.

I wish people would put themselves in others shoes sometimes. Maybe then the world would be a bit more understanding, caring, loving.

"You're welcome whenever you want, Eric." She pats his arm with a nice smile.

The action was my final straw, grabbing Eric's wrist and saying, "okay, come on, let's go get the charger."

The walk to my room felt shorter than usual, staring at my bedroom door as we ascended the stairs. As it got closer to us, the anxiety of having Eric in my room got heavier and heavier.

It felt as though I am crossing a line that really didn't need to be crossed. Of course, I already teetered on that line when we were at the movies...and pretty much ever since.

This felt more intimate. Personal. Allowing him into my room felt like I am inviting him into every aspect of my life; all of my interests, my things, showing him everything about me. A bedroom can tell a lot about a person.

Eric's bedroom is bland, nothing on the walls,

No pictures on the desks. Everything he owned was basic necessities. To the blind eye, Eric had no interests, hobbies, or likes at all. There's nothing in there to question or give anything away about him, that's probably why he kept it that way.

My bedroom told a lot about me with a wall of pictures, capturing most of my life's memorizable moments. A bookshelf filled with all of my favorite novels and soon to reads. A record player with a shelf containing all of my favorite singers and songwriters. A vanity in disarray, covered in makeup, multicolored scrunchies, hair clips, and one shot bottles. To me, everything in there gave away everything you needed to know about me.

"So what did you really want?" I ask him once we enter into my room. I stand in the middle of it, turning around to face him with my arms crossed over my chest.

His stare is devious...sexy as he closes the door behind him and starts my way. My body instinctively gets stiffer, never knowing what Eric is going to do.

His hands take my arms, uncrossing them before putting them back down to my sides. "Don't rush me." He ordered with a hint of a smirk.

Eric brushed past me, leaving me to stand there, turning to watch him inspect my room. He lifts my bedcovers, kneeling down on one knee to check under my bed for something.

"What are you looking for?"

He ignores me, standing and dropping the cover before starting towards my closet door. Swinging it open, he reaches up and grabs the backpack he gave me from the shelf.

"Great hiding spot." He goes over to the bed, putting the bag down on the mattress before unzipping it. "Good to know you kept everything real safe."

I roll my arms, crossing my arms again. "No one comes in here." His hands still on the bag, now looking at me with a bland expression. My cheeks heat up as I let my arms back down where he wanted them.

Something about him being so controlling with just a look in his eyes made my entire body ignite in desire. He is my guilty pleasure.

Satisfied now, he takes the gun from inside the front pocket. Eric scans it over, flipping it from side to side before shoving it into its home; in the back of his jeans. "You say that...until someone does. And then it's 'I didn't think anyone would come in there'."

"Why do you need it?"

"Come on now, Rosie Mae..."

The way he said my first and middle name always had an effect on me, giving me butterflies and making me shy away. This time, having him say my name, in my bedroom...it made me want him awfully.

Eric's eyes darken as he watches me, catching sight of my change in body language. His smirk that had faded away returned.

"Rosie Mae...Rosie Mae..." Pause. Slow steps are taken forward. "Rosie Mae."

My clammy hands tug the sleeves of my shirt over them, needing something to fidget with as he increasingly made me nervous. Eric has been and will continue to be on a mission to break me, to make me give into him. The fight is nearly impossible and he's aware of that, he enjoys it.

"I can see you like that..." he states, his ego getting bigger by the second. "Stop fidgeting." He demands, making me let go of my sleeves, peering up at him and itching to get him out of here. "Do you want to come with me?"

"Yes."

"I haven't told you where yet." He says in amusement and fulfillment.

The agreement left my mouth without permission. I looked down at my feet, embarrassed. It's like it gets harder and harder to control my words and actions around him. At first it felt so simple, dating his brother and in shock and disgust at what he does...I'm not sure when the switch flipped. "Where?" I ask.

"A hit." Eric tells me, reaching around me and pulling my hair loose from its bun. "This one will go a bit differently this time though."

My hair cascades down my shoulders, framing my face as I look up at him again. He stretches the ponytail out, sliding it onto my wrist, seemingly happy now as he gives me a once over. "Different how?"

"That I will keep a surprise." He answers. "Let's just say you'll be making your moneys worth this time."

"What does that mean?"

"It means to get ready, Rosie...you're about to get your hands dirty." Eric replies in satisfaction, as if looking forward to this.

Suspicion raises. "You were going to make me come with you no matter what, weren't you?"

"Yes." He says bluntly.

"I'm not going to kill anyone, Eric."

"Who said anything about that? I believe I said you'd get your hands dirty, not bloody." His strong hand grips my hip, soberly resting it there without movement. "You'll be ready one day."

"Never." I correct him. "You know, you shouldn't have even come here. I told you how my home life is, yet you show up out of no where. You could have called me or texted me and we would've met up so you could get your gun. You did this on purpose. Was it just to upset me?"

He answers me honestly. "You would have said no to me coming if I called or texted you. I wanted to find out more about you. I'm interested. So I came on my own."

I'm not sure how to respond at first. "Whatever, Eric."

He shakes his head and chuckles. "You're wasting my time, Rosie Mae. You walk out of here with me now or I'll drag you out of here."

I motion to my body. "Could I at least get dressed first or are you too much of a d**k to let me do that?"

"Shheewww." Eric chuckles again. "You're lucky I like you or I'd kill you just for that."

"How romantic." I say sarcastically before moving past him and going to my dresser, shuffling around for a pair of jeans to wear.

Eric goes over to my picture wall, scanning over the moments caught of me, Blake, and Faith. There were some with my sister as well.

"How do you know this girl?" He asks me, pointing to Ally.

"Oh. That's my sister Ally." I tell him, shutting the drawer with a simple pair of dark jeans in my hands.

He stares at me for too long, the expression on his face is one I have never seen before, on anyone. It was so slight, almost easy to miss if you weren't paying close attention. Eric's finger is still pressed against the image, sort of frozen in place.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I ask, giving him a look as if I'm weirded out.

Snapping back into reality, Eric drops his hand, going back to looking at the pictures and ignoring my question.

"Hurry up and get dressed. We have to be there by a certain time."