The supervisor was launched off his feet from the force of the blow. Flew in an arc as the frame of the door caved under the momentum. It broke, splintering wood everywhere. A big man is stopped by nothing and this was true as the supervisor continued to fly. Big powerful arms pulled paintings and wallpaper down as they landed halfway down the hall.
Dead on impact? He wasn't sure. Didn't distance and weight contribute to probability of death? This wasn't important right now. Number six and number seven still had knifes but they weren't moving. Standing, but not doing much else.
He looked at Megan and after confirming she was unharmed, went into the kitchen to find something to drink. Henry Ruthless didn't understand what confidence meant. Confidence led to overconfidence which meant you overestimated yourself. Henry, Henry Ruthless lacked fear. A lack of fear meant you know your own capabilities as well as the enemies. Number six and number seven had no interest in fighting someone who could send a big man flying dozens of feet. That much he guaranteed himself.
Grabbing a coke, a cup, and some ice, he poured himself a drink. The fizzle of the carbon splashed against his face, cooling it. He drank it in one go. He waited and waited. Ten seconds, twenty, a minute ticked by before the carbon escaped his throat as a burp.
It was about time as he stood up and made his way back to the living room. He pulled Megan behind him as number six and number seven finally reacted. They turned towards him, their knives still held up defensively. They were no longer considering the best way to approach him. It was impossible. He took out five of them and the supervisor in the blink of an eye. They were instead backing away but he had no intention of letting them leave. What if they came back with tougher men? He wasn't necessarily scared of that. The legal issues would be annoying.
"Agghhhhhhhh"
He simply screamed, yelled actually, really loudly and as they were momentarily stunned, knocked both of them out with an uppercut underneath the chin. The brain doesn't like being shaken. It prefers peace and quiet. Shake it too much and it becomes disoriented. If it crashes too heavily into something solid, it shuts down. The last two men dropped like flies.
Then he looked at Megan who was looking at him with lovestruck eyes. He could heart her rapid heartbeat, her quickened breathing, and her desire for him through the light moaning sounds. He tried to control himself but he couldn't. He grabbed her arms and slammed her against the wall. He kissed her forehead, then her nose, followed by her lips, her breasts and her stomach. He nearly took her pants off and kissed her pelvis before thinking about it and crashed into the bedroom instead.
The room creaked and shook and he wasn't sure if the moaning traveled downstairs but he didn't care. He wasn't even concerned with the now broken bedroom door or the already damaged apartment door. He only cared for her and his desire to show her what love was.
—
They had arrived, nearly killing him at 6 P.M. and she was now wrapped in his arms, kissing his chest, face, and lips at 1 A.M. Megan French. That was her legal name. An interesting change of names with many potential meanings. He only cared about the romantic ones associated with the language. French Kiss. That was the most important one.
She asked him if he was in trouble and he told her the truth. She told him the reason why she was in love with him. She was wealthy and he was in debt. She was a socialite and he was basically a loner. She went to parties. Not to meet her future husband but to network. He didn't have time for that. She wore revealing yet lustful outfits and he wore simple basic stuff. He had a sense of style but it was nowhere near her thresholds. In fact, he was several leagues below her but the reason why she loved him was because of the way he looked at her.
He was strong, dependable, fearless. For a girl that had everything, there were some things money couldn't buy. Strong didn't mean strength but the ability to face things without being overly concerned. Dependable didn't mean consistency or reliability but protection and commitment to love. He certainly showed that in the bedroom tonight. If he wanted to go another round or for longer, she wouldn't object. She'd welcome it. Sadly, he didn't seem to share her thoughts and she didn't mind. She could feel his lust for her but that wasn't a bad thing. Nefarious lust was bad. Well intentioned lust was good in the right doses. Fearlessness… had a lot of different definitions. The one she was interested in was lack of hesitation. The confidence to know that you're right because you were smart. She believed she was.
Older then him by a year, she had already finished her PhD with flying colors. She had no doubts that she wouldn't scare anything but high. She saw that same confidence in him, if in a different area. He filled the areas she didn't have the time to fill. So when he showed her his lust, she showed him her lust. When they combined, it felt so right to her. That's when she knew she fell in love with the right person.
Then she remembered his debt. She went into debt all the time, if debt meant giving up money to buy something. She didn't mind. Even if he was in debt in the millions, she still wouldn't mind. She didn't plan to clear his debt, but she supported whatever he intended to do to clear it.
"I'm going to find the shark who loaned me the money and kill him"
That was his decision and she agreed after thinking on it a while. She didn't say anything because nothing she said would sound smart. Someone gave him money. He had to return it. Killing them didn't make sense because that creates trust issues. However, this time, she threw logic into the wind and fully trusted him instead.
"Then I'm going to find his boss, his bosses boss, and the head honcho. I'm going to kill them all because they charge interest rates that are too high"
She nodded. This wasn't the mentality of a victim but a student. That she could agree with. High interest rates were her worst enemy. She didn't understand why she had to pay the money back immediately. She was rich. She wasn't going to default on it. That would be embarrassing. What was the point of having money if you never spent it? She didn't care about the other people but did care about what her man thought because she felt something special from him. Something she never saw in other guys but that she craved so badly.
To use a pun, he didn't give a fuck. He gave the best fuck. His fuck was satisfying instead of just enjoyable. Her pelvis was still twitching and she couldn't stop it. She wanted more so she just stared at him, wondering when the next time might be.