Delecto - Games of Mastery (part 1) Read Free

told me he'd amassed a small
fortune, trading the high risk metal markets. I wasn’t inclined to
ask personal questions about his finances on the course. But I did
notice he was wearing a Rolex, using the best Nike Covert's and he
left in a very expensive Jaguar F-Type.”
    “ So he's
a real life Mr Goldfinger. He obviously knows his silver from his
palladium. Good for him. I’ll get the files prepped.”
    “ You do
that. He also wants some real estate ownership rights transferred
to his company and a couple of other things arranged in the next
few weeks. I’ll run you through it all later on this evening, at
home. And Amanda, treat this client well. He could put a fair
amount of business your way. He’s well connected with some
influential people in Boston.”
    “ Like
who, for instance?”
    “ I don't
know them personally, but some big names in capital management and
fund-raising for local charity. Grace and Evelyn Jennings and
Wilbur Jones?”
    I'd heard of
Wilbur Jones from my search for back up care for Abigail. He helped
to finance hospices, terminally sick childrens homes, and respite
care centers for the disabled. “Ahh, well, in that case, I’ll make
a big effort for Mr. Shaw, now I know he’s connected with good
works.”
     

Sebastian
    It was the
middle of the night. I lay naked on my bed, with my eyes tightly
closed. I was reveling in my pain. Focusing deeply on it.
    The deep
pounding ricocheting around my head was reaching a crescendo. I
welcomed it.
    My fingertips
stroked the silk of the sheet beneath me. I took a handful and
screwed it tightly into a ball in my palm as a deep-seated wave of
pain overtook me.
    I want it to
hurt, fuck, I need it.
    While I was
hurting, I couldn’t think. For a few hours I had some respite from
myself.
    The pain was so
intense it nauseated me. I heaved a little, tasting bile as it rose
to the back of my mouth. Its flavor was vile, harsh and strongly
acidic.
    I blindly
reached out to the nightstand for my brandy bottle. Securing the
bottle neck in my sweating fingers, I unscrewed the cap and took a
large, badly aimed, and messy gulp, to wash the bad taste away. An
excess splashed around my lips and dripped down my chin, pooling
into the hollow at the base of my throat. The liquid burned its way
down to my stomach and the vapor stung the back of my nose.
Drinking was probably the worst thing I could do right now. But I
didn’t give a fuck about that, or much else.
    Defiantly, I
took another overly large mouthful and finished the bottle. It
flamed through me, painfully, with raw intensity.
    “ Fucking hell. ”
    The empty
bottle slipped from my hand and thumped to the floor.
    I felt the
warmth build inside me as yet another wave of excruciating pain
took hold of my head.
    “ God,” I
groaned, in pure agony.
    I wondered at
the endurance of man. How much pain could he take? The acute
stabbing behind my eyes pushed hard at my limits.
    I was weak of
mind, lying defenseless and vulnerable, a victim at the mercy of my
own body.
    Angel of
death, I offer myself to you. Please come and take me.
    The alcohol
entered my bloodstream and the tingling pleasure of heat rushed
through my veins, soothing my brain. The surge of chemicals
competed with the pain for supremacy. I felt myself flying high and
hurting so bad, and then I was sinking fast. Swirling downward in a
furious whirlpool. Blackness started to surround me, enveloping me
in a peaceful, dark, comforting blanket.
    Is this what
dying is like? Floating away into a dark abyss? Is there no tunnel
of light? No inner feeling of joy? Good.
    It felt so good
to disappear into nothing. To simply evaporate from this world.
    Death held no
fear for me, life was far more fearsome. Relinquishing my state of
mortality and becoming at one with the peace beyond was a pleasant
prospect.
    Peace and
nothing. No thoughts. No needs. No desires. No more pain.
    Death was the
purest tranquility.
    I entered the
black void with a feeling of deep