Falling For The Mob

02 Looks like a Claymore

Sam

The only times I find myself not in full control is when my one emotion overwhelms me. Anger. There are several methods I use to deal with this, for example the moment my office door closed, my balled fist makes direct contact with one of the glass cabinets. The next one follows until they are all shattered.

Even that does not seem enough. I need a fight, and to see blood.

Addy comes running through my door, shocked, before leaving and returning with the first-aid kit. This does not surprise her, I am the reason that she began walking around with it in her purse.

"Shit Sam seriously?" She whispers in a soft scolding tone as she forces me to sit down in the chair in front of her.

I do not register my own injuries until she starts pulling the shards of glass from my knuckles.

A small pool of blood began forming under our hands, but I paid it no attention. I feel nothing, not even the burning effect of the disinfectant she pours over my hand.

"I don't think you need stitches." She says after studying my hand from all angles. I stretch my knuckles to check the damage. No pain.

It has become a dangerous habit of mine, to numb all sensations, but it makes dealing with certain situations easier.

Addy walks over to the bin and disposes of the shards along with the cotton swabs doused in my blood. "So he told you?"

I give no reaction. There is tension in the room, all of her own creation. Her back is still turned to me, but she soon turns around. Of course, he told her. They probably discussed this and came to this decision together. "He's right, you know, this really is for the best." I am not thrilled about having this conversation, but if not with Addy, then who is patient enough to try and understand my perspective.

"I am aware, I know the company needs a face to continue its growth, but I am not fond of the fact that it has to be mine."

She frowns her brows. "That's not what I meant Sam, this will also be good for you. You're a shut-in, now hopefully you will be forced to leave this building and actually interact with people."

I roll my eyes, losing my calm again. She is making me out to be an anti-social nut that is incapable of functioning in society. Yes, I prefer isolation, I thrive in it, so when I took over the company I had the entire top floor converted to my liking.

I have my office followed by Addy's workspace and then the elevator. On the other side are my apartment gym. This is efficient, me avoiding people that waste my time is being efficient. This is better for the company.

I am not a shut-in, I interact with people sufficiently. Just not as Sam Claymore. The luxury of my anonymity, however, will soon be gone. In one week my face will be plastered on every newspaper and screen in the city and what little freedom I have will be taken from me.

I get off the chair she forced me in moments ago and walk back around my desk to my seat. The cracking sound of glass under my shoes is the only thing that can be heard. I have nothing more to say about this. She knows not to make another attempt at the subject.

"Till when do you plan on working tonight? I can schedule the repairs for when you're gone."

"After two in the morning, I will make sure to be gone." She lets out a sigh, knowing that communicating with me for the rest of the day will be impossible. She proceeds to walk out without another word.

My evening passes undisturbed until the 1:45 notification pops up on my screen. I was not the one to place it, it must have been Addy, saving me from dealing with anyone, or possibly saving anyone from dealing with me.