When I told Master Abraham that I needed to take a few days to visitfamily, he didn’t even bat an eye. Instead, he hired a cook who lives in town to fill in until I return, and told me to have a great vacation.
Thatis the kind of man who deserves power and money. Not Landon, the pretentious, self-centered nepo baby who walks around with his dick in his hand, forcing others to cater to him.
I’m going to destroy him. Sure, the organization doesn’t kill people, but we are charged with eradicating potential threats to society.
I.e., people who manipulate and brainwash others. And, unfortunately for Landon, I brought all the equipment needed to stop him from doing it ever again.
The number of people who fall all over themselves to please him is disgusting. In the past two days, I’ve seen him be hit on by men and women alike, all willing to do his bidding.
And truthfully, I haven’t gotten close enough to tell if he’s using that power of his tomakethem do this. They could very well just be naturally charmed by him. But I highly doubt it; he’s far too comfortable releasing that addictive simmer and forcing it down someone’s throat.
So, I have every intention of preventing the possibility of that ever happening again.
I just need to find a way to truly assess him. To sort through his confident exterior and find a way to slip the B109 into his system. The light blue liquid is only the first step, sure, but the final step shouldn’t be hard. I just have to knock him out or get close enough to surprise him before I plunge the needle into his skin.
Normally, I spend a decent amount of time observing someone before I take action and stifle their power. I have to make sure theyareusing their power for immoral reasons. But Landon? I’m confident. I’ve already been a victim of it.
I do want to see it again, though. His power, I mean. It’s a sticky-sweet feeling as it washes over you, and I’m interested to see how far he’s willing to take it.
That’s why I’m here, still watching. Not to see if he’s a bad person—I already know he is—but to catch one more glimpse of it, to understand it, before I rip it away.
I’m only here for two more days, so I have to act fast. And other than those previously mentioned places, Landon doesn’t really leave his condo.
But as I’m dwelling on this, debating breaking in, the front door opens.
I’m hidden across the street, my bike and I hidden behind a large Ford truck as Landon leaves the house with some girl. It takes me a moment to recognize her as Susie, the other friend Julian had brought to Chastain Castle not long ago.
She’s grinning, dressed in a little red dress and heels as they head toward Landon’s car.
And Landon… he looks edible. Nothing pisses me off more than someone so vile looking so fucking good. His brown hair is gelled back lightly, his jeans low and baggy, and his shirt tight and barely cropped enough to show his hipbones and the Adonis belt that is carved out between them.
I can’t see his expression from here, but I bet his eyes areshining. Fucking vibrant with the green so wide and glistening.
I have no doubt as to where they’re headed like this. A very popular club is only a few miles from here, and I’d put a ridiculous amount of money on the idea that they’re about to go party.
Isn’t he supposed to be sad and heartbroken? I’m pretty sure I got the vibe that he’s in love with Julian, and I watched their very public breakup in the foyer back home.
As Susie and Landon climb into his car, I resaddle the bike I’ve rented, waiting a few minutes after they’ve pulled away to start it up and follow.
By the time I reach City Central, the club nearby, they’ve already arrived and gone inside. I can see Landon’s car being valet-parked as I turn my bike off in a parking lot across the street.
I’m not interested in going into a fancy club. I’m in a pair of plain blue jeans, a t-shirt, and my old cowboy hat. I woulddefinitelystand out. I could always take off my hat and put it in one of my saddlebags, exactly where I store it while I ride, but it makes me feel camouflaged.
Plus, I like it.
But after waiting a good fifteen minutes in the humid night air of California, I get antsy and find myself paying the ridiculous twenty-dollar fee to get inside.
It’s a big club, with two stories and far too much fog rolling over the smooth floor. I can spot a bar to my right and several booths lining the walls. But in the center of the room, in front of the DJ, is a big group of people dancing.
Now I have to search for him in this crowd. With his brown hair and tanned body, he mixes in well with the other Californians here. It’s going to take me forever just to find—
Oh, there he is.
On the edge of the crowd, grinding obscenely with a man who looks to be the same height and build as him but not nearly as attractive, I spot him.
I’m hot with rage. He’s here, basically dry-humping some stranger when he’s supposed to be heartbroken? What, is he searching for a rebound?
Something ugly curls around my heart, making my chest tight and stifled. He’s probably brainwashing that man right now.Thatis why I’m upset; there certainly can’t be another reason.
