Chapter 9
Long into the night Greg shifted through the paperwork at home. Over and over again he had tried to get through to Karen's parents. But just as in the past they didn't try to listen to him. The only thing he had managed to get out of them was that Karen had apparently married. He could imagine with whom. That slimy smirk of Peter came into his mind. His eyes closed and Greg tried to come up with some kind of a solution. Of course he had called and inquired the names of the two at various Chemical companies that existed in the US. But nobody seemed to know them. Four years had passed and he faced again the same frustrating dead ends.
Suddenly, somebody knocked forcefully against the front door. He jumped up in his chair. It was already pitch black outside. He had lost all sense of time since he had sat down and started to research. It was late. The digital clock on his desk showed 11:32 pm.
"Who is it?" he asked.
"Open the door, McKenzie." He heard the familiar deep vibrating voice of Finch.
Greg's heartbeat rose immediately. What did that guy want from him now? The bad feeling he had felt when he had left the bar a couple of hours earlier seemed to fulfill itself.
"It's late, Finch. I'm tired. Come back tomorrow." He muttered.
The white door swung open with loud bang. Greg instinctively raised his arms and stepped back from the front door. Two large bodies appeared out of the darkness. The African American bodyguard of Finch, dressed all in black, came straight toward Greg. His muscular hands grabbed hard around his neck and started to press gently but forcefully against it.
Finch walked calmly into the house and had a good look around. He had put on a Hawaiian shirt and wore some wide black shorts.
"Nice place you have here." He said and turned around to face Greg.
It was difficult to breath under the tight grip.
"What...what do you want?" he somehow got out.
"I want fresh girls, Greg. Mandy died just after minutes you left. Overdose...poor soul. I need a couple of new cash cows and I need them fast. Customers are already lining up you know. You gotta keep your reputation in this business."
Finch poured himself a glass of whisky from Greg's bar.
"So, here we are. I really would like to take some of them back tonight."
Greg didn't reply and his watcher squeezed his hands tighter.
"I..." he started to talk and the pressure lifted a little.
"I don't have any girls Finch. Who do you think I am...I don't keep any girls like you do."
"What about that model? The housewife? I think those were your latest girls...weren't they? Call them up." Finch said and smiled when he saw Greg's confused look.
"Yes, Greg... we have kept a good eye on you. Whenever we needed some fresh meat we fished them out. We always knew where to find them...just follow those leaving your house."
Greg's head started to spin. He should have never set foot into this man's bar.
"You are lucky that we took care of them, Greg. Cuz you really didn't seem to bother. Trust me. We helped them as good as we could. Just as Mandy today...it always breaks my heart to see one of them go." Finch laughed in a loud voice.
His fat body shaking in the light in front of him Greg felt as if somebody had pulled the carpet away from right beneath his feet.
"I told you not to worry about their deaths. Everything is being taken care of."
The bodyguard let him free but stood close to Greg.
"This is not right, Finch. Please understand I didn't know until today that the after effects of this would be so leathel. I never intended to make the women suffer like this. I... I cannot do this anymore."
"Oh...you are so sweet, Greg. Such tragedies...don't be fucking stupid!" he suddenly cried out. "Don't give me this moral preaching of yours...they weren't there in the first place! All of a sudden you are the saint?"
"Believe me...I didn't want this to happen. I thought it would only last temporarily. I have never wished for them to die." The last word came out slowly out of his mouth. He fully realised the consequences of his actions now.
"It's way too late for that, my friend. You know it. You have destroyed and killed the lives of countless women...for what? So, you could get laid? Control them; change them into some perverted sex dolls?"
Greg shook his head.
"You were the one who killed them...just like me you have abused them." Greg shouted back.
"No, no, no...not me. I only stepped into that circle; I was just the middle man, the middle part of their path of life that would eventually, Greg...eventually lead to their death. I gave them a home, men they desired for, fed them and kept them alive. Who knows what would happen to the girls if they'd be left alone."
"Maybe they would suffer less." Greg hissed.
"No...wrong again, Greg. As I already said, we watched over them. We didn't want to step in right away; you know...you should have seen them. Remember Dorothy? That business woman? Married, 2 kids and that expensive house on the hill? Well, you step in... one week later; she suddenly quits her job, no wonder, she was constantly screwing around, no time for work. She fucks around in her company, fucks around her neighbourhood... bang 2 weeks later...husband finds out that she has sex with her own teenage son...divorce, poor Dorothy ends up on the street...we take her in...we save her. You know what would have happened to her on the streets!"
Greg walked over to the bar and took a gulp of Vodka. He nearly puked.
"Is she still alive?" he asked her.
"Dorothy? She died. Somehow she managed to kill herself. Happens sometimes...some of them are aware of the situation but are unable to change it, you know. They try to escape but always come back."
Katie's last words suddenly made a lot of sense to him. "You don't know how much we suffer..." it was something along that line. She must be aware of the change that had taken over her body. Was it possible?
"Now, Greg..., don't you worry about their deaths okay. I want you to continue. As I already said, there are some of my girls I want you to work with. How about it? You fuck; I pay you and take care of all the rest....eh? Sounds like a good deal to me?" Finch laid his hands on his shoulders.
Greg's mind was blank. All of his strength was gone. He felt weak, miserable and was full of regret.
"I can't Finch...I cannot live with that thought that these women are going to die a crazed death."
Even if he would give them their daily dose...Greg threw that idea away. One woman was already hard enough...he couldn't feed a large number at once...the sperm always had to be fresh...
Finch sighed. The wooden floor squeked when he moved around.
