Bad Boy by Night

♱ Chapter 21 ♱

𝓐𝓭𝓮𝓵𝓪𝓲𝓭𝓮
𝟸𝟷: 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙴𝙻𝙴𝚂𝚂

The footage was sickening.

Mom and Dad had retired to their bedroom and Cory was absent because he was engaged in a night out with his high school friends. The third floor of our house felt too lonely and vast with just me as its occupant. I'd been playing my favourite Post Malone album, my fairy lights and night sky projector on, when my phone vibrated. Initially suspecting it to be Porter, I grabbed my phone immediately.

But it wasn't. It wasn't even Bridget (she claimed she was busy speaking to the guy that she was going on a date with soon anyway).

It was NAMELESS.

I think you might find this of interest. –NAMELESS

The message was coupled with a video file. Clicking on it, I nibbled on my bottom lip as the video buffered. When it finally played, I felt sick. Porter was immediately recognisable with his plain black baseball cap facing forwards, though two other guys flanked his sides. They must have been his friends and part of the business. Then my gaze lowered.

A man was crumpled on the floor.

My eyes squinted as I incremented the volume. The footage had been captured from outside because there were a multitude of stains marring the window and the audio wasn't great. I could feel my heart hammering against my rib cage as I hated myself for being so enticed by the footage. Considering it had been sent from NAMELESS and he had been the one to capture it, I knew it would have severe repercussions.

"Payment?" Porter asked. "We hear you owe Marvin almost seven grand. And you missed the deadline."

Porter's words were greeted with silence... or so I presumed until Porter spoke again and I realised the injured man o the floor had responded too quietly for it to be picked up on the footage.

"You might want to be quicker. Come on, Kevin. At least give us a proper fight here."

One of the other guys spoke next. "How about you fight back and we'll take the two grand back to Marvin. We'll give you an additional week to find the remaining five grand. But if you miss this deadline again, I can't promise we'll be as nice next time."

Porter crouched down and that's when a shriek escaped me. He was animalistic with his behaviour. All I could view was his fists flying at full speed towards the defenceless man on the floor. I knew there must have been a dire root of it and it was regarding some sort of late payment, but I was incredulous of this side of Porter. He'd been so sweet and caring with me. Those hands he was using to cause mass destruction and damage to the man on the floor had been the same hands to held mine so lightly and cleaned my wounds that marred my hands when I was buried alive. As I glanced down at my hands, I realised the rawness had faded and only faint scars remained. No one had noticed them.

There was further dialogue between them before the other guy scarpered and returned with a wad of cash and immersing himself on the phone. They mentioned another name: Marvin. He must have been the one who orchestrated this whole ordeal. But what shocked me the most, leaving bile to rise to my throat, were Porter's final words on the footage before they exited and the video terminated.

"You should count yourself lucky," Porter spoke maliciously. "Sometimes we like to take guys like you outside and stuff them in the trunk of our car. And then we take them for a ride. We're considerate though; we blast the music to ensure you can hear it."

I replayed the footage for a second time and then a third time, the nauseated feeling intensifying with each playthrough. That's when I knew I had to see Porter for myself and confront him.