The Royal Contract

He had been lying low, hiding in one of his houses, licking his wounds.

So to speak.

He believed he was safe in this place since this was where his father and mother had raised him, away from the prying eyes of his father's enemies.

And this was where his mother spent the remaining days of her sick life before she passed away. This place held most of his childhood memories, or the lack of having one.

He believed the only valuable memories he recalled about this place were the times he spent with his mother. Those days were the only good remembrances of his youth he held dear to his heart.

"No. I am not weak. I am not giving up." Gerald stared at his father's portrait as he imagined his father looking down on him. "I can do this."

He remembered how his father would whip him with his belt every time his old man saw tears in his eyes. The more he cried, the stronger the leather lashed on his skin.

"I did not raise a weak son. You will stop crying and take your punishment like a real man." At first, the whipping would only stop when he passed out from crying or if his mother intervened.

But later on, he had learned to control his tears or the pain, not letting his father see any more of his weakness. "You should never give your enemies ammunition against you."

He might have lost a battle, but the war was far from over. He was not yet defeated. Nevertheless, he admitted the incident had slowed down his plans.

He had blown his cover. Now, his enemies knew he was alive.

It would be harder for him to move around, knowing that his enemies were searching and waiting for him to make a mistake.

"Damnit!" He still hated that Don caught him. He thought he could make it out of there without being discovered. But unfortunately, Don seemed to be one step ahead of him.

Nevertheless, at least he made it out of there alive. Hopefully, he had not compromised his friend, Mike, in the process. He still needed him to be his eyes inside the organization.

And, of course, he did not want his friend to get in trouble or his family, especially Haley and their child. He would die protecting them before putting them in danger.

"Sir, everything you asked for is in there." The older man, living and caring for this house since he could remember, informed him, dropping two large bags on the counter as soon as he entered the kitchen.

He opened the first bag, finding fresh fruits, eggs, and bread on the top. Then, the rest was his food supply that should last a few days.

Then, he took the other bag and checked the contents. Inside, he found two guns and boxes of ammunition. Upon close examination, they were according to his specifications.

"Are you sure this is clean?" The last thing he wanted was to buy used firearms, already involved in an ongoing crime. Still, he had no intention of using a gun unless necessary. He hoped he would not come to that.

He wished he would not need to fire a weapon. The last thing he wanted was to add to the number of people he had killed. He had sworn to end his criminal days when he learned he was about to be a father.

However, he still did not regret what he had done before. In his defense, those men he killed deserved worse than death. But he was kind enough to grant them an easy ending to their suffering.

"According to my source, it is." The man told him, assuring him that his supplier was trustworthy.

Still, he needed a gun. He could not go to a gunfight without carrying a reliable firearm. It was better to prepare than be sorry.

"This is great, James." He told the man who had brought him what he needed without questions. The man who had been with him since he was young.

He remembered this man was the one who had cared for him when he was just a child. He also helped his mother when she got sick. One could say that James had been the constant in his life.

"Do you need anything else, Sir?" James asked as he stepped back, ready to leave and give him some privacy.

James also did not like prying his nose where it did not belong. He was loyal and trustworthy. Those were traits that his father valued from his employees. And it was the same value he used in his life.

"Nothing for now." He told him, thinking he already had everything he would need. "But don't go far. I still might need you later." He informed the older man as he checked the gun, inspecting if it was in its mint condition.

He asked James to find him an untraceable gun. Usually, the source smuggled guns from underground manufacturers or stole fresh from the distributors.

In their line of business, it was easy. All they needed was a reliable contact and money. The rest was a simple exchange.

"Yes, Sir," James answered as he exited the door without looking back.

On the other hand, he stayed behind the kitchen counter, staring at the materials he needed to cook his dinner. Then, he started chopping up some onions and tomatoes.

Well, he still had to eat. Even criminals or prosecutors needed sustenance to survive. It was not always about drugs, women, and guns.

"That should do it." He was not a gourmet cook. He could only cut some vegetables, fry a few things, and roast a chicken. The rest was done by a cook or eating out.

He was on his last bite when he thought of contacting his friend. It was time to get updated with what was happening on the other side of his world.

He could not continue his radio silence anymore. The problem with going out of the grid was the lack of sources of information. He had no idea about what was happening. He was in the dark.

His first try to call was a total failure when his friend answered and said. "I am sorry. But that case is still on the docket. We still have to wait for a schedule." Then, his friend ended the call without acknowledging him.

It means that his friend had recognized his voice, but he could not talk for one reason or another. If he had to guess, he was with one of their adversaries. It could be Don or one of the leaders.

But it was not a total loss since his friend had his burner phone number. He just had to wait until his friend called him back once he was available, safely where no one could hear their conversation.

In the meantime, he had to plan. He did not want to waste a single minute. He had to find a way to beat them.

However, his mind wandered off again, diverting to the memories of the woman he loved, Haley. He could not help it. He missed her terribly.

It had been too long since he had last seen her. Or at least check on her condition. But he knew he had to be patient. If he played his card right, he could win this. And he would be back in her arms.

"Wait for me, Haley. Be safe." He whispered as he stared into space, seeing nothing but her face. But he eventually snapped out of his reverie, believing he had important things to do.

He was about to refill his glass with water when the glass accidentally slipped from his hands. Seconds later, a crashing sound reverberated from the floor.

Shards of glass covered the tiled floor, causing James to come rushing back inside to check on him. Stay connected with novelbuddy

"What happened?" Of course, he explained that it was just an accident, but he could see blood dripping down his fingers.

He must have nicked his finger when he picked up the broken glass without noticing it. But that was OK. It was just a little cut. Besides, he hardly felt it.

"You should be careful." The older man said. "Some superstitions say it is a bad omen to break a glass when one is thinking deeply about someone special."

The man talked about what he thought of the accident. He said it meant bad luck. Something horrible might happen to that person.

However, a person like him never believed in such nonsense.

"That is bullshit." He uttered, not considering any of the crap. He believed that man curved their destiny. A person dictated his fate. And not some voodoo crap about omens and superstitions.

"Suit yourself, Gerald. I am just telling you to be vigilant." The man said as a warning before he exited with the trash.

He was ready to forget all about this absurdity when his phone rang. Upon checking the caller, he was glad it was the familiar number.

He guessed his friend had finally found a way to be alone. He was dying to hear any news about Haley and his baby.

"Mike, how..." But his friend did not give him a chance to finish his question.

"Gerald, we have a big problem."