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Tate · 08-13-2020, 06:33 PM

Previously on the Chronicles of Knox Booth:
Chapter 1 - First Article
Chapter 2 - The SMJHL Draft Approaches
Chapter 3 - The Losses Mount
Chapter 4 - Draft Day (SMJHL)
Chapter 5 - Collect $200 when you Pass Go
Chapter 6 - Best Served Cold
Chapter 7 - Lucky Guy
Chapter 8 - The Mid-Day Move
Chapter 9 - The Day the Earth Stood Still
Chapter 10 - Rumors
Chapter 11 - Against All Odds
Chapter 12 - Straight Shooter
Chapter 13 - Bullseye
Chapter 14 - One Hand Man

Chapter 15

Pay the Piper

par·a·noi·a
/ˌperəˈnoiə/

(noun)

1. A mental condition characterized by delusions of persecution, unwarranted jealousy, or exaggerated self-importance, typically elaborated into an organized system. It may be an aspect of chronic personality disorder, of drug abuse, or of a serious condition such as schizophrenia in which the person loses touch with reality.

***

“You okay, Knox?” The question posed to Knox Booth came from his teammate and colleague, Max Mauldin. It was a fair question and deservedly so, as Knox had not been acting normal all season. Granted, the Los Angeles Panthers had done a retool this past offseason and so far, the standings this season had been grim, but this was worse than a losing streak- Knox didn’t seem at all like himself.

“Fine,” Knox gave a one worded answer that was followed with no additional comment, and it didn’t appear as though he was going to say anything else that would help calm Max’s feeling that Knox was deeply out of sorts.

“You don’t seem fine,” Max told him. It was a bold thing to suggest to Knox but considering their past and the fact that they had shared a locker room for several seasons, Max knew Knox well enough that he could talk to him like a friend.

“Well, I am,” Knox was sharp in his delivery when he looked over at Max, and in his eyes, he was trying to sell a fake confidence that was easy to see through. “Don’t worry about me, worry about yourself.”

“Hey now,” Max said as he shifted in his locker room stall so that his body was facing Knox, “I know you’ve had it rough, both on and off the ice. But don’t talk to me like that, all right?”

Knox stood from his stall and outwardly challenged Max from a few feet away, “You got something else you want to say to me, Mauldin?” Knox uncharacteristically used Max’s last name when addressing him, creating a separation between them while also potentially trying to change the tone of the conversation into something entirely different, “You go on and say it then.”

“I’m not asking about something that we ain’t all thinking,” Max paused before the next word, “Booth,” he said in a tone that mimicked how Knox had just talked to him. “You’re sitting over there like some kind of zombie, staring at the wall, and you got a friend in me that gives a shit about you.”

“I don’t need your sympathy,” Knox shot back, his eyes scanning the room for any of his teammates that were watching the confrontation unfold, “I don’t need anyone’s sympathy.”

“You outta learn the difference between sympathy and empathy,” Max told him as he remained seated.

“You want me to show you a difference right now?” Knox asked as he stepped forward.

“SETTLE DOWN!” The words were shouted from behind Knox and he turned around to see the Coach staring them both down. “Booth, in my office, now.”

“Nah,” Knox muttered, “Fuck that.”

Coach’s eyes filled with fire as he took a step toward Knox, “Say that again.”

“I SAID FUCK THAT!” Knox screamed at him as he punched his stall and ran from the room, cradling his throbbing hand, and one in which had barely healed from a bullet wound months before. Knox was in a blurred state of mind, not even aware of where he was headed but his frustration was overtaking him. Knox hadn’t been on his game since he had fled Canada, and everywhere he went he was looking over his shoulder- watching and waiting. The reality was that Knox was in big trouble, and he knew that one day the piper was going to come knocking- ready to collect his due.

Knox had made a poor attempt to avenge his parent’s deaths and failed miserably in the process. He had expected the associates of Daniel Murphy to have come by now, and every time he arrived or exited the arena, he had expected it to be his last. However, no one had come to collect him, and life everyday had seemed to be normal. It was as though all of it had been a bad dream, but one in which he had still not awoken from and the feeling of dread and doom was eating at his soul.

Knox had also been too afraid to continue his plan of revenge, he realized after his failure that he had made a big mistake and overestimated what he was capable of. He regretted ever having the idea in the first place, but it was his love of his mother that had driven him to that point of insanity and now he was trying to claw his way back out of it. Knox wasn’t also foolish enough to believe that bygones would be bygones and that he would be left alone forever, as he knew that he had been witnessed committing his pathetic act of revenge and he was certain that Daniel Murphy and his men were following his steps. Knox was an easy target, he was obligated to play for the Panthers, and the schedule was public knowledge, and it was this never-ending feeling of paranoia had haunted him since the start of the season. One in which he had continued to carry it with him wherever he went, and deep inside his brain a disturbed part of him was yearning for it to be over.

Come and get me already.

“Knox,” he heard his name being spoken and when he turned around to face the voice, he had expected to see Max Mauldin or his Coach on his heels. But instead, what he feared most had come true, and standing only a few feet away was a man he recognized- a man in which he had fired a bullet at while he was in Vancouver. The man was large, well groomed and wearing a long coat with both hands in his pockets, and it didn’t take long for Knox to see that the man was pointing a firearm at him that was concealed in his right hand. “Let’s go for a drive.” Knox looked around, realizing that he had walked outside of the arena property and was on the sidewalk just outside the entry gates. To the right of him was a busy road filled with fast moving vehicles going each direction, and to his left was a fence that he would have to scale to get back inside. “Don’t run,” the man told Knox, seemingly reading his mind, “This is a drive you have to take.”

“All I want is to go home,” Knox said aloud as fear took hold of him and his stomach turned upside down, “Please.”

“I’m taking you home,” The man said as he remained still, “Get in the car,” the man motioned to a black vehicle that was parked along the sidewalk just behind where he was standing.

“You can tell him I’m sorry,” Knox pleaded, “I made a mistake.”

“Tell him yourself,” The man responded and again motioned to the black vehicle. Knox did as he was told and was escorted to the door of the back seat, “It’s unlocked,” the man said to him from behind. Knox opened the door and saw that the back seat was empty, “Move over,” the man instructed. The man sat down next to him, and as he did, he drew the gun out from his pocket and fixed it on Knox, “You make a move and this will end before you’ll want it to, understood?”

“Yes,” Knox responded as his eyes scanned the interior, he instantly spotted two men sitting in the front of the car. On the passenger side was a man similar to the one that was seated next to him, large and well groomed, and in the driver’s seat was the man who he had met previously when he first sought out Daniel Murphy at the horse track. The man who had driven him to the unknown location where he had been beaten up for trying to find him, the man he believed was Daniel Murphy. The driver put the vehicle into gear and placed his blinker on so that he could merge onto the busy street, and as he pulled away from the sidewalk, Knox couldn’t resist asking the question, “Are you Murphy?”

“There is no Daniel Murphy,” the driver responded and as he did a feeling of déjà vu hit Knox like a slap to his face, “I already told you that,” the driver added.

“Tell me who are you,” Knox demanded, desperate to find out what the truth was, and whether this man was responsible for murdering his parents. Knox knew he had nothing to lose at this point, he was a dead man either way, and he wanted to find out this man’s identity before it was too late.

“All I’ve ever been, is a businessman,” the driver said, “It’s as simple as that.”

“If you’re going to kill me, you might as well tell me your name,” Knox said as his eyes left the driver for a moment and turned back to the man seated next to him, “You owe me that.”

“I don’t owe you a damn thing,” the driver’s tone was cold, “You owe me.”

“Enough games!” Knox shouted as he looked at the driver’s sun-glass covered eyes in the rear-view mirror, “Stop fucking with me!”

The driver slowed the car and placed his left blinker on, and Knox could see that they were not headed in the direction of his house. “You’re the one who, ‘fucked,’ with me, Knox.” He turned the vehicle down a street leading back toward the industrial area of downtown Los Angeles, “Listen, I’ll admit it, I did what I had to do. It was unfortunate that you stumbled across my mess, but I had little choice at the time. Your father was the one who had run from his responsibilities, and he was the one who decided to go to your home. But I guess that’s the kind of thing he tended to do, run to you, isn’t that right?”

“But my Mom,” Knox said as he fought back the emotions that were spiraling inside of him, “Why?”

“You already know the answer to that,” the driver told him, “She was there.”

“You God damn piece of shit,” Knox spoke to him with hatred in his voice, “You’re a coward who can’t even look me in the eyes and do it yourself.”

The driver pulled the vehicle over and placed it in park, this time he turned to face Knox and removed his sunglasses. Knox could see him now, a man of middle aged and balding, but with a healthy complexion. He was well groomed, just as clean cut as the other men in the vehicle, and as he shifted in the driver’s side chair a tiny bit of his cologne wafted in Knox’s direction. He smelt good, not too strong and with a hint of vanilla. Knox was surprised at how relatively unremarkable the driver was, and not at all like he had envisioned. “No,” the driver said to Knox, “I’m a businessman, and our business is done. Now, get out.”

Knox waited for a moment as his eyes darted from the driver to the passenger, to the man seated next to him. “Get the fuck outta the car,” the man seated next to him demanded, “Now.”

Knox stared in his direction and nodded slightly as to indicate that he was going to comply, and without making any indication of what he was about to do, Knox lunged toward the gun that the man was pointing his direction. Knox just managed to narrowly push it away from his body before the man was able to pull the trigger.

BAM!

The first shot was sent through the back of the driver’s seat and into the belly of the driver, forcing him to fall back toward the steering wheel and scream out in pain. Knox wrestled with the man in the back seat as another bullet was fired – BAM!

This time the bullet was sent up and through the ceiling of the vehicle, and as Knox was able to force the gun out of the man in the back seat’s hands he turned it to face the man in the passenger seat, he was able to swat the handgun that was being raised toward his chest and without thinking, Knox instinctively pressed the trigger- BAM!

The gun recoiled in Knox’s hand as the bullet pierced the forehead of the man in the passenger seat and the blood sprayed the interior of the car, partially blinding Knox and the man seated next to him. The adrenaline coursing through Knox’s body prevented him from feeling the full force of the right hook that struck his jaw, and as he fell back against the door of the back seat he fired blindly, two times, in the direction of the man seated next to him-

BAM! BAM!

Silence.

Knox felt the body of the man next to him fall on top of his, then heard the driver’s side door open, and he listened as the whimpers of the driver faded in the distance. Knox rubbed his eyes and forced the now deceased man off his body and he desperately clawed at the back door until he was able to open it and fall onto the cement outside. Knox tried to stand up but hobbled for a few feet before he was able to gain his grounding and he looked to see the driver slowly walking away while holding his stomach in pain. “STOP!” Knox screamed out as he pointed the handgun at the driver and followed closely behind him, “STOP!” He screamed again. The driver stopped in his tracks and froze, “Turn around,” Knox instructed, ready to fire at any moment. The driver did not move. “TURN AROUND!” Knox screamed again.

The driver turned his body to face him, his eyes watering from the pain as blood pouring from his stomach covered his hands. “What’s your name?” Knox asked but the driver did not answer. Knox took a step toward him while continuing to point the gun squarely at the driver’s face, “TELL ME!” Knox screamed at the top of his lungs while his finger hovered over the trigger.

“I told you. I’m just a business-“

BAM!
In an instant the driver fell to the ground as blood pooled from the exit wound at the back of his head. Knox looked down at the dead man, unsure of what just happened, and he stepped toward the fallen man to confirm that he had just killed him. Knox stood over the driver’s body, and as he stared down at him in disbelief, he dropped the handgun to the cement and fell to his knees. Knox trembled as the adrenaline faded from within and shock now overcame him, and with his hands shaking Knox searched the pockets of the dead driver and retrieved a cell phone. Without much thought at all, Knox dialed the only number he could think of, 911.

On the other end of the call, an Operator picked up, “911, what’s the state of your emergency?”

Knox hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say, “I did it,” he responded, before the phone fell from his hand and landed in the warm pool of blood that was now beneath him.

2578 words

***sve7en*** · 08-13-2020, 06:43 PM

:eyes: more Tate media

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