Each week, I send out a story via my email newsletter. Each story is around 1000 words, sometimes less, sometimes more. The stories are in a variety of genres: supernatural, thriller, sci-fi, horror, and sometimes romance, and all of my stories typically feature a gay protagonist.
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This is story number 30 of the series. Enjoy!
Killer Instinct
Nate’s hand shook as he read the text message again, his stomach twisting into knots. “I know about the money you’ve been embezzling from the company. $50k in my account by Friday or I go to the police.”
Cold sweat prickled his brow. How had he been found out? Nate thought he had covered his tracks meticulously, siphoning off just a little bit each month, nothing anyone would notice. He needed that cash to support his lavish lifestyle and expensive tastes.
And now some anonymous blackmailer was threatening to ruin everything. Nate wracked his brain trying to figure out who it could be. The phrasing seemed vaguely familiar. Then it clicked. Frank, that pervvy accounts manager always leering at Nate and making gross double entendres. He must have discovered Nate’s scheme somehow.
Nate’s panic slowly hardened into cold, calculating rage. How dare that crusty old creep try to blackmail him? Frank needed to be taught a lesson.
Nate downed the rest of his whiskey sour and scanned the crowded bar, neon lights reflecting off the sweat-slick skin of writhing dancers. He needed a distraction, something to take his mind off impending doom.
A cute twink at the bar caught his eye and flashed him a flirty smile. Perfect. Nate sauntered over and unleashed his most charming grin.
“Hey handsome, can I buy you a drink? I’m Nate.”
The twink bit his lip and looked Nate up and down hungrily. “Mike. And absolutely, stud.”
Emboldened by the attention, Nate decided to take a risk and use Mike as an unwitting accomplice in his revenge plan against Frank. A devilish scheme began to take shape in his mind.
Fast forward through the flirtatious chit chat and roaming hands in the Uber. Nate gave the driver Frank’s address instead of his own. Mike was too tipsy and turned on to notice.
When they arrived, Nate turned to Mike with an apologetic smile. “Hey, sorry but I need to grab something real quick from my buddy’s place. Come on up with me? I’ll make it worth your while.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Mike giggled and nodded, following Nate into the building like a lamb to slaughter. In the elevator, Nate’s heart raced, adrenaline spiking through his veins. The ding of reaching Frank’s floor sounded gunshot-loud in the charged silence.
Nate pounded on Frank’s door, barely restraining the urge to kick it down. When Frank answered, bleary eyed and scotch in hand, his face was an almost comical mask of shock.
“Wha– Nathan? What the hell are you doing here? And who’s this?” He gestured at Mike, who shifted uneasily at the tense vibe.
“You know damn well why I’m here,” Nate snarled, shoving his way into the apartment. “Your little blackmail stunt ends now, asshole.”
Frank barked an ugly laugh even as he backed away nervously. “Blackmail? I prefer to think of it as a mutually beneficial arrangement. You pay up, your thieving stays our little secret. Now run along and get my money, pretty boy.”
Nate lost it. He lunged for Frank’s throat, slamming him against the wall and digging strong fingers into his windpipe. Frank spluttered in shock, bloodshot eyes bulging.
“Holy shit, Nate!” Mike cried out, voice shrill with panic. “Stop, you’re gonna fucking kill him!”
“That’s the plan,” Nate replied with an almost preternatural calm. His eyes were empty black pits, his face an expressionless mask. “Why don’t you run along now, Mike. You don’t want to see what happens next.”
Mike hesitated for a second, looking between Nate, the cold-blooded psycho, and Frank, the wheezing, purpling mess. Then he bolted, nearly tripping over himself in his haste to get out.
Once the door slammed behind Mike’s retreat, Nate released his crushing hold on Frank’s neck. The old man slid to the floor, coughing and gasping, massaging his bruised throat.
“Jesus, you’re fucking crazy!” he rasped. “I always knew there was something off about you but I didn’t think–“
Nate kicked him viciously in the ribs, cutting off his diatribe. “Shut up and listen good. You’re gonna email me saying you made up all that embezzlement bullshit to extort me. Then you’re gonna resign from the company and disappear. If I ever hear from you again, I’ll finish the job. Got it?”
Frank stared up at Nate, a glimmer of understanding dawning in his eyes along with a healthy dose of fear. He nodded shakily. Nate smiled brightly.
“Good. Glad we got that sorted. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Frank.”
Nate turned on his heel and marched out, leaving Frank coughing and shaking on the floor.
On the way home, Nate hummed to himself, immensely pleased. Blackmail averted, asshole put in his place. Now Nate could breathe easy and get back to surreptitiously siphoning company funds. What a relief.
But deep in the shadowed recesses of his mind, something darker was awakening, unfurling insidious tendrils after lying long dormant. That moment when he had Frank’s life literally in hand, the thrill that zipped through him…he wanted to feel that again.
Nate shook his head sharply to dispel the disturbing thoughts. He wasn’t some psycho killer, for Christ’s sake. He was just a savvy guy doing what he needed to do to get ahead. And if some people got hurt along the way, well, that was their own fault for getting in his way.
Still, as Nate rode the elevator up to his penthouse, a small part of him wondered just how far he would go to protect his secrets and feed his growing hunger for domination. How many more people would he trample in his ruthless climb to the top?
Only time would tell. But one thing was clear — Nate would let nothing and no one stand in his way. The old Nate was dead and gone. Long live the new king.
THE END