Black Ink Read Online Free

glance up, looking for motion detector lights.  There are none but there is a spotlight directed at the yard and another light just above the door.  The spotlight has to go.  I lean the ladder against the side of the house and climb to loosen the bulb.  I run my fingers along the wires so I appear to be looking for a short, just in case a nosy neighbor is watching.  After I climb down, I rest the ladder on its side against the house and turn my attention to picking the padlock on the cellar doors.  I’ve done so many of them in my youth, it pops open under a minute, it’s like riding a bike.  I open one door and step into the musty darkness.  Quietly easing the door shut above me, I turn on the flashlight and look around the large room.  It’s set up like a family room with an old couch, a throw rug on the floor and posters on the wall with the washer and dryer on the far wall below the steps that lead upstairs.  I glance up at the exposed rafters and a sadistic smile curves my lips.
    “I know what we could do with those,” I murmur.
    I walk across the room and ascend the stairs and try the door, not surprised it’s locked.  I pull out the small tool kit again and insert the thin instrument into the hole.  The knob clicks and the door swings open into the kitchen.  Looking around I see what I want.  Above the counter there are several hooks screwed in underneath the cabinet, one of them holds an extra set of keys.  I slide it off and toss it in the air a couple of times before pocketing it.  Following the hallway that leads to the front of the house, I enter the living room and move to a wall full of family photos. 
    Gemma’s life is displayed in black and white and color.  The family looks so happy, a scene that is foreign to me.  As she gets older from the point of her college graduation, I notice there are some empty slots.
    “Did you take yours and Malcolm’s pictures down?  Does that mean you weren’t a part of his schemes?  I didn’t think he was smart enough to get so far on his own, but it’s an interesting thought…highly unlikely but interesting none the less, little Gemma.”
    The contempt I feel is evident in my voice.  It’s really not the money.  It’s the fact I was made a fool of.  It enrages me every time I think how that little piece of shit took me, me, and I didn’t see it coming.
    “Well, I will find out just how much you were involved, and I have a feeling you’re going to enjoy every minute of it but not nearly as much as me.  The fact you are so stunning is a bonus I hadn’t anticipated.”
    I study the pictures and sense a sadness in Gemma’s face in the more recent photos. 
    “That little weasel was definitely not enough man for you, but there’s more to it than that, isn’t there Gemma?”
    “Meow.”
    The sound of a cat surprises me.
    “You agree with me don’t you little pussy.  What other secrets do you know?”
    “Meow.”
    The cat saunters over and weaves itself through my legs as if it were perfectly normal for me to be in this house.
    “So Gemma doesn’t have the only pussy that needs attention, is that right?” I ask the attention hungry animal.
    “Meow.”
    “Hah.  Come on, take me upstairs.”
    I head to the second level and look for Gemma’s bedroom. 
    “Not like that shithole I was at when that little prick made me who I am,” I growl, my voice cold and hard.
    All these houses are set up the same way.  I spent the early part of my life in a lot of different ones but the one in particular I remember the most, the one I refuse to forget because it still fuels me, is the one that decided on the direction of my life and the man I would become, albeit it was a horror house.  The destruction started from the father and continued with the children, especially the sixteen year old son.
    The hate I feel for him is as powerful as it was that day.
    Gemma’s childhood bedroom is soft and feminine with pink floral wallpaper and a