Broken Glass Read online

  My mommy looks at me and smiles. “What’s the offer?”

  "Half a million dollars."

  “For?”

  The man turns to me. "I think you should go to the park and play again; your mommy and I have to talk now." He hands me my plane again and softly pushes me out the door.

  ***

  I shake my head, to get rid of the thoughts of a time that I never want to relive. Watching the women standing in front of me, they think I'm listening, but I don't give a shit about what they're saying. Giving me some fucked up reason why I should be investing in their idea, they want my money, but I won't give it to them. They have to work hard for my money; I didn't make this billion-dollar business, my father did. And I'm not about to throw his money away to some second-class company that thinks they know what they're doing.

  My father worked hard for his company; he worked hard to make sure his name means something. Eric Masters means power in this business, but my name, Leo Masters, means power and fear.

  I see people walk into this room confidently, but the moment they see me that all goes away. They say I'm the man with no heart, no soul. That the black in my eyes brings out the fear in them.

  I know what I did to get here, what I went through. I will never forget what it took to get to where I am, so if you want my money, you better show me what the fuck you have planned for it.

  E.H. Masters & Co Investment is the business; you need financial help, you come here. I don't need to be in the room, we have workers for this, but I don't trust them. There are only three people in this world I trust; my father and mother and my best friend, Jackson. We have been friends since we were little, and since then we have been inseparable. He is even my lawyer now. If he needed money, I wouldn't even ask why. But these people walking into this room, coming up with some fucked up company, project or new app and wanting my money can fuck off. My father didn't make this company into a billion-dollar business by just giving money freely to someone, he was smart, and I plan on being smarter.

  I can't believe that I'm sitting here listening to this garbage. I mean I don't even really know what this woman is talking about, so I stand up to leave.

  “Mr...Mr. Masters, what do you—?”

  “No,” I cut her off, the fact I lost interest within five minutes tells me a lot.

  “If you could—”

  “I’m not here to hold your hand and tell you what you need to change or do; this is your work. You fix it." I watch her nervously moving from one foot to the other. "Here is a tip; I lost interest very quickly, and I didn't even listen to most of it," I tell her as I leave the room and as the door closes I can hear her crying. I've just crushed that woman's dream in less than five seconds, but I know it's a dream that won't work.

  Walking back to my office, I look over at the workers as they juggle some of the investments we are linked with. Everyone knows that if they don't work hard, they're out. They aren't here to make friends or talk. They're here to work and make money.

  “Mr. Masters, your mom called to remind you about dinner tonight. Also, Jackson called asking for you to call him. And your dad called to say tak—” I shut the door on Katie, my secretary, and as I walk into my office, I dial Jackson’s number. If he calls and wants me to call him back, it’s because he has something for me.

  As the phone begins to ring, I click it onto speaker. Placing my jacket on my chair, I grab the handset and make my way to the balcony. I place a cigarette between my lips, flick the lighter and inhale as the end catches. As it lights Jackson answers the phone.

  “Whose future did you destroy this morning?" I hear the humor in his tone. He's a dick, and if he wasn't my friend I wouldn't give him five minutes of my time, but our friendship is different. We both went through shit, we both know what hell looks like, and we don't plan to go back there.

  I sigh heavily. “She thought that I’d be interested in some app that has been out a hundred times already,” I tell him, blowing out the smoke as I speak. As I sit down on one of the balcony chairs, I lean back and inhale again letting the smoke settle in my lungs for a moment, before I let the cloud go free. “Have you got something?” I ask. We both have one thing in common; we fight for what we believe in.

  “I do, want to see me before dinner at your parents?” Jackson is so close to us that my parents invite him over all the time and he comes because they helped him; helped him become someone.

  "Text me the place, and I'll be over." I look up at Katie as she walks through my office. I click off of speaker so she can't hear what Jackson is saying. "I'll see you there," I say as Katie stands near the balcony.

  “One moment, Katie.” I put my hand out to stop her from talking to me.

  “Just fuck her already,” Jackson says as I look at Katie’s legs while she is standing there. That fucker always knows when I pick the phone up to talk to him. “If you don’t want her, I will. I bet she’d be a dirty whore.”

  "You can have her," I say looking at Katie in the eyes, and she knows I'm talking about her and I know very well that if I told her to bend over, she'd do it, but I don't fuck where I work. She holds a file out toward me and I put the phone down. I inhale on my cigarette and let it hang in the corner of my mouth as I take the file from her, exhaling the smoke through my nose.

  “Mr. Masters, your father called again woul—”

  “I’ll call him, you may leave now,” I tell her, as I put out my cigarette. I feel her watching me for a brief time before she walks away.

  Leaning back in my chair again I close my eyes for a moment, just thinking about what I’m going to do when I see Jackson; there are so many ways to play this game. My father always tells me that I need to show people I have a heart and show them I’m human and I tell him the same thing every time, other people don’t matter, you want something you do it yourself, those people won’t give it to you.

  I’ve read the articles; one reporter even called me the man that will never have a heart, that even got a small smile from me, but the best one so far is they called me vicious in the boardroom, that one made me laugh because they have no idea. For how vicious I am in the boardroom holds no comparison to how vicious I am in my revenge.

  If they knew why I was like this, they wouldn’t think about calling me heartless or the devil, but I don’t want them to know. I want the world to fear me.

  ***

  My whole day at work was painfully long. My dad wanted to talk about someone coming with a pitch next week and that he wants me to really listen to what they have to say. He thinks they would be worth our money and I told him that if he believes in it, I'll sign the papers without even hearing them out. He didn't build this company by making stupid decisions. After two hours of going back and forth on this pitch, he finally agreed to just let me look at the folder they gave him, and I can look through it, instead of them coming to me. I won't look at the folder, I trust my dad.

  Once I finally got off the phone with my dad, I was back listening to pointless pitch after pitch. I understand that a lot has been done before they bring their pitches, but they need to give me something exciting, but no. I get people that think they can be the next Steve Jobs or Mark Zuckerberg and give me something better than Facebook.

  “Evening, John,” I say to my driver as I get into my car. I had already texted him where I would be going. Taking out my phone I text Jackson to let him know that I’m on my way and to have everything ready. I’m not in the best mood and I want to enjoy this. I want to smile when I leave.

  It takes twenty minutes to get to where Jackson told me to meet him. John opens the door, and I make my way to the house. I can feel the weather is changing and it's about to get cold early this year. I look behind me as I see some children on their bikes; they ride past laughing about something. I get to the door and walk straight in; Jackson is standing there looking at me with a smile.

  "I got you a new toy." Jackson looks over to his right, but I can't see who's there as the wall obstructs my view.
I look around the house, and the odor of his cheap whiskey hits me, and there are takeout bags all over the place. I've been to some trashed up homes, but this one is on a new level of disgusting. The bad smell of rotting food makes my stomach churn, and I know there have to be a few dead mice in here. Shaking my head, I walk over to Jackson, not looking at my toy; I look out of the window and move the curtain to the side to see the view.

  I don't say anything, as I look at the school in front of me. I must stand there for ten minutes before I turn to face my toy and as I turn, I smile. I stroll to the chair placed in front of my entertainment for the next few hours. I hear Jackson walking around behind me, he's getting everything ready for me.

  "You see my friend getting my things ready?" I ask, and they look behind me before their eyes meet mine again.

  Lighting a cigarette, I watch them for a moment and I want to see what they do, how they move, what makes them scared. Jackson now stands next to me, and I hand him the lighter, my toy jumps as Jackson lights his cigarette. My toy is, and I can't help but smile.

  I smoke about half of my cigarette, then stand and walk over to my toy. “I like the view from the window, what do you do when you look out of it?” I ask, bringing my cigarette close to his right eye, he’s shaking. “Are you scared of me?” I take a step back from him.

  "There… there are rumors, are they talking about you?" His eyes move away from me, and he looks down, my eyes follow, and I hear the dripping on the floor. The man's pissed himself.

  Jackson starts laughing. “You haven’t even done anything to him yet.”

  I look at the man on the chair in front of me. “I’ll ask my question again, what do you do when you look out of the window?”

  “Noth...nothing, I just watch, I don’t—”

  Putting my hand up for him to stop talking, I move closer to him and grab the back of his neck, bringing the last of my lit cigarette close to his eyes. “I can put an end to that.” I put the end of my cigarette out on his eye, his scream echoes around the room, but only for a short moment as Jackson silences him with some fabric he jams into his mouth.

  Taking a step back, I sit down in front of him, patting my suit to get his spit off it. “This is a new suit, be careful,” I tell him. His right eye looks fucked, just the way I want it to look. Jackson takes out the fabric from his mouth and I hear him gasp for air.

  I tell the man, “Now you know who I am and what I can do. Should we try the question again? Wh—”

  “I touch myself.” He’s panting. This fuck better not die from shock because I have more planned for him.

  "And which hand do you use to touch yourself?" I walk over to the table that Jackson got ready and put my gloves on; I don't want this shit touching me. Taking a bowl, I place it on the table in front of him, his eye not moving away from me, as I sit back down on the other side of the table. "So, which hand?" I give Jackson a nod, and he unties his right hand, the man is sweating so much. "Go on then."

  Jackson puts the fabric back into his mouth because he's going to start yelling and he's going to scream loud. I wait to see what he's going to do; I mean putting your own hand in acid is hard, but they all do it in the end, some do it fast, some take their time, but they all do it. Because the longer they take, the harder it gets and the longer their hand stays in there.

  I smile as he puts his hand in and the acrid smell of burning flesh drifts around the room. And I watch as he tries to cry out into the fabric. I can see he won’t last out for all my toys, but I won’t let him die before I get to do the one thing I enjoy the most.

  I take his hand out of the bowl and put it back on the table. Picking up my next item, I walk back to my seat. “Have you ever touched any of the children across the road? Have you ever spoken to them?”

  He stays quiet, then looks over at Jackson walking over to me with his cheap half broken laptop and turns it to face him. As he hits the play button, I hear a little boy begging to go home, begging for him not to hurt him. I close the screen with my gun, not wanting to hear any more.

  “Are you going to beg now?” The pervert’s eyes move with the gun.

  When Jackson told me everything about this sick bastard, I knew that I was going to kill him; I knew I was going to get rid of another one of these assholes. He has tortured, raped and taken away something from children that I can never give back to them, but I can make sure he never does it to anyone else.

  Pointing the gun to his head, I tell him, "I want you to beg me not to hurt you." He doesn't speak. "I can't hear you, but hear this, you touched them, you took something away from them, you hurt them, and it was all with that thing between your legs." I don't even finish my sentence before I shoot his dick.

  Leaning back, I watch him in pain; watch how it's hurting him like he hurt all those children. I watch for a moment longer, and then I stand and shoot him in the head. Jackson takes the gun from me, and I take out a tissue from my jacket pocket.

  “These were fucking new shoes.” I wipe the sicko’s blood from them and stand up.

  “I’ll get rid of him and see you in an hour,” Jackson says. Giving him a nod I make my way back to the car.

  John opens the door for me, "Another one taken care of sir?" I give him a nod as I get into the back of the car. "You saved some children tonight, sir." John closes the door, and I call my mom to tell her I'm on my way for dinner.

  These people think that they can do this and nothing will happen to them. They think that children will forget, but they don’t. How are you meant to forget when a grown man betrays your trust? The police try their best to get them behind bars, but they soon come out and do it all over again. And that’s where I come in. I get rid of them and make sure they never hurt another child again.

  Chapter 3

  Hope

  11 years old

  I was lying on the floor, the coldness seeping into my bones. He took my bed from me. He said naughty girls don’t get to sleep in a nice bed.

  I sit up straight, as I hear the door opening. He has been down a few times when I've begged for food and water. I get a little too loud, and that only gets him mad; the belt marks on my body are a reminder for me to stay quiet and I have. Even when I'm hungry, I don't say anything. I don't want to be hurt anymore.

  I don't look up at him; he made it very clear that I can't look at him, so I don't. "Food." He puts a plate on the floor, and I bring it closer to me. Two pieces of ham, this is my meal for the week now. Tearing some of it off, I put it in my mouth, and I look through my eyelashes as he sits down in front of me.

  "This will be your last Christmas with me." The cold words hit my skin like ice. "Someone wants you, and they want me to train you." He moves closer to me, his finger lifts the hair away from my face. "He doesn't want to take it from you. He said only a monster can do that to a child." His hand tracing down my neck making my body shiver, as the fear of what is about to happen runs through me, my stomach turning as I feel sick at the thought of him touching me again. "So it looks like Uncle Jack can play with you now." His hand stops on my stomach. He brings his face closer to mine, as his other hand lifts my chin up and I close my eyes, so I don't have to see anything.

  I open my eyes before I go too far into the memory of that day. I don’t want to go back there, to the day my life changed; the day my innocence was taken from me. Getting up I walk over to the window as I try to blank the nightmares out.

  I’ve tried to lock them away, but they always seem to want to come out. They push through the doors that I’ve locked very tight, but I’m too weak to fight them anymore. No matter how much I fight this, Uncle Jack will always be in my blood, my veins and my head.

  The joints in my wrists are starting to hurt, telling me that my body is going to start getting painful again. I take out my medication, which reminds me that I have to go pick more up, which in turn makes me think about my pay. I always put my money to the side because I know that if I don't, I will struggle to get my medication and I need it. If I
don't take it, then it will be a very painful winter for me.

  I look out of the window towards the building across from me. Looking at the clock on the old building, I see it's time to leave for work. Another long night is in front of me, and all I can think about is how I would love to run away. If I run away, the demons will still be with me. So, how am I meant to live a life, when the past is always there? No matter what, it will always be there.

  Making my way out of the building, I wrap my jacket around myself a little tighter; the breeze is getting colder now. I enjoy going to work, but I also hate it at the same time. I like that I get to live a little, from my dark world, but I hate being around people. This was the only place that I could find work where I don't have to make eye contact with anyone, and that's what works for me. The staff at the restaurant have tried to talk to me, but I know better to keep to myself because if he finds me, there will be no one close to me that he can hurt. I don’t trust anyone. They will only betray me in the end, everyone always does.

  I stop outside of the restaurant; it was a nice walk tonight. Most nights there’s someone on my journey who tries to talk to me but tonight was different. I got here without being bothered by strangers. I look through the window quickly before someone sees. The place is full again, like every night. Making my way around the back and inside, I hang my coat and hear Joe yelling at someone already.

  I walk past some of the staff, grab my apron and bucket and go to make my way out to the front.

  “About time you got here, tables won’t clean themselves,” Joe shouts at me as I walk. Taking a deep breath in, I get ready for my shift.

  Chapter 4