The quarter of a mile back to his home felt like twenty.
He fell into a restless sleep, filled with nightmares. He awoke the next morning, wondering if they’d been dreams or memories. He’d never lived like this—on the edge. He barely clung to the normalcy he’d come to take for granted. Go to bed. Wake up. Go to work. That was how it was supposed to be. Instead, impulses kept running through his head. Strange, wild urges. Hungers. Needs. He tried to ignore them but they were so strong.
He dressed and drove the five miles to work, looking for a white rented Yukon as he drove. The beast inside didn’t want to accept that Abby was lost to him, that she’d only been his for one night.
Or so he assumed it was the beast.
On second thought, it could’ve been the man that didn’t want to accept the loss of Abby. At this point he wasn’t sure of much of anything. He pulled into his parking spot, outside of Omega, cut off the engine and fisted his keys.
He’d been tempted to call off but decided he needed this—his normal day-to-day life—to keep him grounded. Something powerful pulled him. Something he didn’t understand. He felt that holding onto the life he’d known before was his only hope of holding onto himself, his very soul.
He went into the building, smiled at Denise the elderly receptionist-slash-office manager-slash-gopher. For the first time since he’d started working at Omega, some eight years ago, she didn’t smile back.
Had something happened to her too?
He opened his mouth to ask if she was okay when two huge guys he’d never seen before stepped out of the security office, which was located to the right of her desk.
They gave him a look. Not a friendly one. No, more like the kind of glare they’d give a guy who’d been caught embezzling a million dollars from the company.
What the hell was going on?
He felt like he’d stepped into a bizarre new world. Everything appeared to be the same but it was a façade. Something had changed. Something besides him. The people around him acted differently. Like strangers.
“What’s up?” he asked.
The two guards rushed him, knocked him to the floor, and pinned his hands behind his back. He was so confused and shocked he didn’t try to fight them off. Whatever mistake had been made would be cleared up. He’d done nothing wrong. He’d been a longtime, trusted employee. His boss, Alexander Torborg, was his mentor. His friend. Those men had no reason to be securing his hands behind his back.
They hauled him to his feet. He noticed, as the guards escorted him past Denise’s desk, that she was watching the whole scene with a puzzled expression.
They led him to the elevator, took him down to the basement. He’d never been in the basement before. Had never had a reason to go down there.
“Want to tell me what’s going on?” he asked, not expecting an answer.
Escorting him like a prisoner, the men didn’t say a word.
The elevator doors opened, revealing a dimly lit narrow corridor, painted a dull gray. The ceiling was open, revealing heating ductwork, wire channels, the bones of the building. Their footsteps echoed on the scuffed tile floor. The guards stopped him next to a metal door.
What poor schmuck had been forced to take an office down here?
One of them unlocked the door while the other held onto the manacles securing his arms. Yes, they were like those old-time irons. Not handcuffs. Thick, hinged metal cuffs wrapped around his wrists. The edges ground into his bones when he twisted his wrists. Hurt like hell. Between the cuffs and the metal chain connecting them, the rig weighted a lot.
Had they expected him to be extra-strong? Did they know about his recent…troubles?
The room was empty. Painted the same color as the hallway outside and furnished with a cot, a dresser and a toilet, it looked like a prison cell.
One guard stood at the door while the other unlocked the shackles.
“Uh. Do I need to call a lawyer?” Tarik said just before they shut and locked the door. “Well, fuck!” He slumped onto the bed. “What a way to start the week.”
Minutes later, the door rattled. He looked up to watch his boss walk into the room. The door slammed shut behind him.
Torborg’s face was, as usual, completely devoid of emotion. His eyes were flat. His stance relaxed. “Tarik, I’m sorry I had to do this.”
“So, mind telling me what’s going on? Why am I locked up like a criminal? I’ve been working for Omega for years. I haven’t done anything wrong. Haven’t done anything to the company. And we’ve known each other a long time. You know I’m not the kind of guy who ends up handcuffed. Right? There has to be some kind of mistake.”
Still standing by the door, Torborg nodded. “I’m afraid there hasn’t been a mistake, although I understand you wouldn’t do anything to hurt the company intentionally.”