His Every Desire

"I’m not implying anything,” the older man answered. “I’m telling you that you and your pauper girlfriend are going to move the restaurant and hand over the deed to that building."

Outside, Tracy frowned. Why did Tice want that building? He couldn't possibly want the restaurant- it had to be the building. But, even that didn't make much sense. It was a great piece of real estate, but nothing worth this much effort.

Mr. Hayes’ voice wafted through the high windows and asked the same question that Tracy was thinking, "Why?’

John laughed loudly and sat back down in his chair. "Come on, Paul. I can't tell you all my secrets. I have plans.”

"That still doesn’t explain why you want that building back." Mr. Hayes crossed his arms now, obviously annoyed.

"That building?" John fiddled with his onyx cufflinks and continued, "There's not much I can say about that building, other than the fact that it holds your precious Tracy's dreams. After the two of you seduced my beautiful daughter and ruined her life, I would think that you would understand and give me the benefit of the doubt."

"After your kid tried to poison me?" The rising agitation was showing through in Mr. Hayes’ voice. "Why would I give you the benefit of anything? I already let you go once, you and your crazy daughter. Clearly that was a mistake."

“The mistake would be not signing that restaurant over to me,” John replied. “You won't like the consequences if you don't. I have the paperwork right here. All it needs is your signature. And I will get your signature with any means necessary.”

Mr. Hayes laughed at the threat. “Over my dead body.”

“That can be arranged, Paul.”

“Don't make threats you can't keep,” Mr. Hayes cautioned. “I'm not giving you anything.”

“Fine. Over your slut girlfriend's dead body. You left her at home, didn't you?” John smiled like a crocodile about to devour its prey.

“If you hurt her...”

But before she could hear any more, a different sound made Tracy's ears perk up. It was a crunching, like shoes on the gravel driveway. In fact, that was exactly what it was. A man in all black approached the warehouse, moving as softly as the gravel would allow. She knew that the men inside would never hear it through the door. Both of his hands were tucked into the front pockets of his leather jacket. The dark garment had been zipped all the way up to his clearly boxy chin.

Tracy froze, the acrid sting of vomit rising inside of her. She knew that chin. She knew that profile. Her heart froze and her stomach threatened to empty right there.

"Fuck," she mouthed silently.

It’s him.

The periphery of Tracy’s vision faded to black as she locked eyes on her supernatural stalker. She couldn’t hear Mr. Hayes’ voice any more. All that came through was a fast, powerful pounding as the blood coursed through the vessels in her head at

breakneck speeds. Her heart felt like it was going to bore a hole right through her chest and her knees went weak, forcing her to put both hands onto the cooling unit to keep from falling.

The man crunched his way toward the building. He would cast a wary glance over his shoulder every once in a while, but otherwise seemed relatively calm. Tracy, on the other hand, was experiencing a whole new level of fear. Her skin tingled and her mouth went dry. She knew damn well what he was there for.

He was going to kill Mr. Hayes. The dreams said as much.

He walked past Tracy's hiding place and beyond the edge of the building. Tracy closed her eyes and swallowed before forcing herself to follow. She crept along the wall, being careful to step of patches of gravel that already looked worn down into the ground. Those would be the quietest.

When she reached the end of the wall, she carefully peeked around the corner. The man was only a few steps away from the front door, and his left hand was no longer in his pocket. Instead, his stubby fingers gripped a pistol close to his side.

Tracy started to panic. She didn’t have a plan.

The faintest shadow of a whimper escaped through the bile in her throat, but it was just enough to change everything.

The man turned on his heels, prompting Tracy to double back a few feet and press herself against the building’s rough stucco exterior, which scraped her back as she pressed hard against it. There was nowhere to run, nowhere that she could get to in time. It was only a matter of seconds.

In the blink of an eye, Tracy’s need for flight gave way to the resolve to fight. There was no more time left to consider how or why.

It had to be done. He had her cornered.

The tip of the man’s shoe was the first thing that crossed into Tracy’s sights. Then she closed her eyes, screamed at the top of her lungs and charged.

What happened next was a blur. She lunged toward him, aiming low and colliding with his knees, sending him down onto the ground with her. The man was visibly surprised, but quickly began to fight back against a barrage of thrashing limbs. Tracy couldn’t see the gun during any of it. All that she saw was white – blinding white.