Chapter Two

Beckett

 

I hit the bag again and again, my fists connecting against the firm leather with force and determination. Sweat was dripping off my body, I swung my leg up in an arch then hit the target. The bag swung heavily on its chain. My blood was surging through my veins, my heart pumping rapidly, my muscles pulled tight. I always started my day in the gym, moving right from sleep to physical exertion. It made me feel awake, alive, while also keeping my body fit for all the things I needed it to be able to do.

After boxing, I lifted weights for a bit and did crunches. It was my private gym, there was no need to wait for equipment, so I moved at my own unhurried pace. I felt strong and invigorated when I finished, stripping out of my shorts and walking into my massive marble tiled shower for a rinse. I kept the water cold to cool my heated skin. There was no sound in my penthouse other than the steady spray of water. There were never any sounds here other than the ones I made. I lived alone, and I liked my privacy. This palace, on the fiftieth floor overlooking Vegas, was once my family’s home. Now it was mine. Solitude was comforting to me, home was where I didn’t have to pretend I’m someone I’m not. Where Beckett Carter, notable billionaire and successful businessman, could step away from the illusion he created for everyone who knew him.

Today was a day for me to play the part though. I dried off and headed for my closet, pulling open the heavy double oak doors. My wardrobe stretched far to the back, color coded and pressed smooth. I dressed myself in a custom Versace suit, navy, then fastened my gold Piguet watch around my wrist. Slipping in cufflinks, I stepped into my shoes then took the private elevator down to the basement where my black Mercedes was parked along with a few other sports cars I owned. I didn’t really care about cars, these flashy displays of my wealth, but it was expected of me since I was young and rich. Getting behind the wheel I started the engine with a roar then pulled out into the scorching Nevada sunshine. Heads turned in my direction to admire the sleek car. The more you act like a stereotype, the more they believe it.

It was a fast, smooth drive to the highrise where Carter Enterprises was located. I wove effortlessly through traffic and drummed my fingers against the wheel while I listened to music. Our operation took up six floors of the gleaming glass building, a building we owned. Low level employees took up five floors, executives and my sprawling corner office were on the top. My office was pure vanity, I was barely ever there except to put in some face-time with the board. This company was how my trust fund stayed exorbitantly padded. I was the face of the company, I made a number of major decisions but aside from that I had a team - a team I paid well - to take care of everything for me.

I pulled into my reserved spot and took the elevator up to the top floor, adjusting my tie and running my hand through my hair while I moved upwards. I hated these meetings, but I needed to show up every now and then to remind them who was in charge. The doors opened and when heads turned my way people started to move faster, work harder. The way you do when the owner of the entire company walks past you. I noticed the receptionist and paused, she was an unfamiliar face.

“Where’s the other girl?” I asked.

The new girl twisted her hands nervously. “Um, well, Lucy quit a week ago. I’m her replacement Mr. Carter.”

I nodded, then continued on to my office. Lucy was tall and attractive, a bombshell of a blonde. Months ago I had flirted with her, things progressed from there and we started a casual relationship which meant we fucked and went for dinner once or twice. The only problem was, casual wasn’t good enough for her and she wanted more from me. Unfortunately, I had given her everything I was willing to give. Everything I was capable of. She never even saw the real me only the version I let her see. I broke it off, and she stared daggers at me whenever I showed up to the office. I guess she finally had enough and handed in her resignation. Still, rumors got around about me sleeping with the receptionist and it helped give me a reputation as a playboy. Another layer to the illusion.

The thing about reputations is that if people think they have you all figured out, they don’t go digging for more. Why would one of the richest men in Vegas, who spends his spare time driving expensive cars or screwing hot young women, ever be suspected of being the masked vigilante who prowls the streets beating the shit out of criminals? People would think it was unbelievable, and I wanted to keep it that way. I may be an asshole, but as I walk past some of my female employees who follow me with their eyes hungrily I know that doesn’t really put them off. I still have options. I still have needs. Even if I can never let a woman know who I really am, never let her see the darkness inside me.

The boardroom is to the left. I walk in and nod to the men seated who are clearly waiting for me. As they talk amongst themselves I lower myself into my seat at the head of the table, then it’s quiet. My personal assistant Jessica is at my side in an instant with a coffee, black, and I smile at her. She knows me so well, I pay her a generous salary and in return she keeps my work life and personal life meticulously planned.

“Thank you Jessica.” She nods at me then heads back to her chair in the corner, picking up her notepad and paper to take notes. I look at the serious faces staring back at me expectantly.

“The main purpose of this meeting, as you know, is to vote on the acquisition of Body Tech,” I say calmly. “I’m interested in knowing how the board would like to proceed so let’s cut to the chase. All those in favor?”

The group raised their hands, as I expected them to. I had researched this deal personally and thought it was a smart move for the company. I also had ulterior motives. Body Tech was a medical research company and they were on the cutting edge of developing and testing a medication that would result in rapid recovery from serious wounds. The possibilities were endless; surgery, emergencies, wounded soldiers - and then there were my activities taking down scumbags in secret. I had my share of scars from clumsy knives or being grazed by a bullet. Rapid healing could come in handy for me.

“I’m glad to see so much enthusiasm for this opportunity. Motion passed, we’ll move forward with the details. Now let’s move on to the other items on the agenda.”

I sat in my chair, nodding occasionally, as the suits around me gave updates on their department’s performance. My father once sat in this chair, in this building, guiding his company like his father had before him. Our legacy, and it ends with me. I’ll never get married, never have a son of my own. The life I’ve chosen to live is too dangerous to drag anyone else into it. I can ruin my own life, but I refuse to be responsible for someone else’s.

I wish I could turn off the hatred inside me. That I could be happy with the privileged life I was born into; my wealth, my healthy body, my position in society. I can’t embrace any of it because I know how hollow and temporary it really is. I know how quickly life can be snuffed out, I witnessed it as a child, and I will die bringing justice and pain to those who deserve it.

When my meeting is done I rise from my chair, shake a few hands, then walk towards my office with Jessica trailing after me, her heels clicking on the tile floor.

“I’ve updated your schedule with the meetings you requested Mr. Carter,” she keeps her eyes focused on her notes. “I’ve also moved your housekeeper’s appointments to fit your updated schedule, and you have been invited to a benefit next weekend for Nevada’s Foster Care System.”

“Pass along my regrets that I can’t attend, but send them a check for ten thousand. Is that all?”

“You also have that interview booked, she’s waiting in the lobby.”

I froze.

“What interview?”

Jessica checked her notes before responding.

“You agreed to an interview with the Las Vegas Review-Journal about your recent donation to the LVPD. She’s here now but if you want me to send her away-”

“No, it’s fine. I have time.”

I continued into my office and sat behind my desk with a sigh. I hated doing PR, but as one of the most high-profile men in Nevada it was hard to keep my name out of the papers. This interview would be positive publicity for the Carter Foundation, my parents legacy - aside from their orphan son I suppose. There was a knock at the door and I looked up, Jessica stepped aside and a pretty brunette with smooth flowing hair walked in. She was dressed in a sheer white blouse and grey pants, polished and undoubtedly attractive. A thought flashed through my mind of all the things I immediately wanted to do to her. Without waiting for an invitation she strolled into my office, pulled out the chair across from me and sat down.

“I won’t take much of your time Mister Carter,” she explained as she took out a pen and notebook. “I just have a few questions, need a quote and then I’ll be gone.”

I arched an eyebrow, surprised. This isn’t the way I was used to being spoken to, she was not nervous or intimidated by me. If anything she seemed annoyed.

“Are you in a rush Miss-” I looked at her, waiting for her name.

“My name is Ella,” she forced a smile. “I’m just here to do my job, I’m assigned a lot of stories and I’m sure you’re a busy man. So, my first question-”

“What beat do you cover Ella?”

She cocked her head and our eyes met. There was the faintest smile on her lips. “I thought I was supposed to be asking the questions Mr. Carter.”

I returned her smile with my own. “Professional curiosity.”

“I cover crime. My editor got the press release about the donation yesterday and wanted me to get a quote from you for the article as well as a quick photo. Now, why did you choose the LVPD as the recipient of your $500,000 donation?”

“As a resident, I have an appreciation for the hardworking men and women of the Las Vegas Police Department and the role they play in keeping our city safe. I’m fortunate enough to be able to contribute to their continued work.”

“According to recent stats, crime is up six percent in the city. Do you think money is what the police force needs, or more effective police officers who can’t be bribed?”

Ella was blunt. I folded  my hands in front of me, watching her. She was shrewd, this one, trying to paint me in a corner with her words. Of course I know the police are on the payroll for local criminals, but I can’t admit that. I can’t admit half the things I really know.

“I’m afraid I don’t agree with you. Crime is like a virus, it’s a constant struggle. Our police service is helping to heal this city from the inside out.”

A brief laugh pushed past her lips and she quickly composed herself, knowing that was an inappropriate reaction. Why did that stir something in me? The desire to lift her chin and stare into her eyes, to correct her simple act of imprudence, was overwhelming. The dark side of me wanted to teach her a lesson.

“Did I say something funny?” I demanded, my eyes burning into her.

“I’m sorry Mr. Carter,” she sat a bit straighter. “I didn’t mean any disrespect. It’s just that I follow the crime beat very closely, and I have my personal doubts about the effectiveness of our police. I mean, they can’t even catch a rogue man who is attacking criminals on his own. What kind of a city lets someone get away with that, acting outside the law?”

“You’re not a fan of the masked vigilante I take it?” I kept my face calm and unreadable. If only she knew who was sitting across the desk from her.

She shook her head. “It sets a bad precedent. It tells people that if they wear a disguise, they can be outside the law. That man, the Phantom as they call him, is going to get hurt eventually, or killed.”

I leaned forward, taking a closer look at this gorgeous creature in front of me. She had my full attention, this mouthy reporter. She squirmed under my gaze, self conscious. There was a faint purple ring around her eye, partially hidden under a veil of makeup but not hidden well enough. “Who did that to you Ella?”

She shifted in her seat, looking down. “It’s nothing,” she mumbled. “Back to your article, I just need a quick photo and I’ll be out of your way. Is your office okay? Maybe by the window?”

She wasn’t going to tell me what happened, and I wasn’t going to press her on it. I nodded and stood up, smoothing my tie, then waited beside the floor to ceiling window of my corner office. The view of the skyline was just past me. Ella retrieved a camera from her bag and walked closer to me, I watched her move. She was a bit timid, yet comfortable in her body. Suddenly her foot caught the edge of my rug and she gasped as she fell forward.

In an instant I stepped towards her and caught her, holding her upright in my arms. My reflexes have always been impeccable, it’s how I do what I do. It’s how I avoid fists and knives. Her hands were flat against my chest and I noticed the subtle hitch in her breath when she looked into my eyes. For a moment we stayed as we were, our faces inches apart.

Ella looked away, a flush on her cheeks, then regained her composure. “I’m sorry Mr. Carter, I’m clumsy today. I’ll just get that quick picture.”

I helped her to her feet and she brushed the hair from her cheek. She raised the camera and I stood tall with the skyline behind me, my face serious as I looked into her lens. I was looking through the camera, as if I was looking directly at her. She snapped a few photos, the click the only sound in the room, then she nodded.

“Thank you for your time Mr. Carter,” she extended her hand and I shook it. Her hand was small and soft in my own, and it’s there again. That electricity. Does she feel it too?

Ella picked up her bag, turned, and left through my office door. Just like that, she was gone. I stood by the window, looking out over the city. There was something curious about that girl. Her wariness about the police, her thinly veiled contempt for corrupt lawmakers. There was a savviness to her, but she was also fragile.

That bruise told me she got herself into trouble, maybe with the wrong sort of people, and in a city like this that could be dangerous for a young woman. She covered the crime beat, and I’m sure she had made enemies along the way after exposing them. If she was smart she’d cover something else, it would be safer for her. Otherwise, eventually, something worse might happen than a black eye. This city could be dangerous for people who couldn’t defend themselves.