The Right Thing To Do….

Down the darkened highway passed a sleek mid-sized limousine, its dark exterior pelted by an unexpected rain squall cutting in from across the lakes around the city. Its driver, Mike Teneros, guided it steadily on not really worried about the rain. No, his mind dwelled upon the job he was tasked with and the unfortunate figure seated in the back.
Mike took a glance up in the rearview mirror, eyes catching the eyes of Rosilyn Crenshaw, CEO and major holder of Vertius Corporation. A lucrative company, she alone brought the mega-company from its low beginnings as a minor chip developer to its leading role as the primary research outlet for many of the world’s computer products.
It’s for the company, whispered a low voice in the back of his mind. It’s necessary for our growth.
Mike’s eyes blinked against the words churning his thoughts, and then he focused back on the highway, forcing himself to ignore those deep dark eyes burning hot on the back of his neck. Soon though, he could not avoid taking another glance as the angry redhead. Her eyes, he thought, so hard and foreboding.
After she had been conveniently convinced and sedated by the bigshots on the board, Mike had been tasked to take her out and, well, dispose of her before the big board meeting to happen later that week. The job was personally given to him by the other powerholder in the company, Claude Simpson, a grimy, slender man whose smooth voice and promises of position and power were enough to tip Mikie’s decision to go along with the plan.
For the company, his ears recalled Simpsons thick menacing voice cooing to the junior VP as Miss Crenshaws inert body was ported down into the garage by several of his lackies. You love the company, don’t you?
Now she sat, lips turned up into a vicious sneer, that thick red lipstick smeared around her lips and chin from long minutes of shouting and ranting while jerking fitfully against the handcuffs firmly fixed around her wrist, body secured tightly in her seat legs clipped and secured to a notch on the floor. Barely could Mike hear her raging away through the thick glass partition separation his cabin from hers. Once exhaustion, and realization that her efforts were futile, set in did the shouting stop.
She’s holding us back, buddy, said his inner voice, you gott’a do what’s needed for the company.
“Yeah, yeah. The company…it’s the right thing to do,” he muttered with a nod.
A series of thumps against the back of the seat drew his attention. Rosilyn was trying to gain his attention, managing light kicks to the back repeatedly until he finally relented. A section of the glass slid down.
“Yes, Miss Crenshaw?” he called, not bothering to look at her.
She said nothing at first and the silence threatened to choke him. “Where are you taking me?” she said in a harsh strained voice.
“Someplace safe, Miss Crenshaw,” replied Mike.
Another moment passed, then Rosilyn continued. “Safe? Taking me somewhere safe?”
She let out a laugh tipping her head back at his words. Mike felt that urge rush through him again upon seeing her creamy colored skin and long yet sturdy neck, a neck he personally wanted to kiss and caress over and over—
The company, buddy. You know it’s more important than her body.
Mike blinked, cutting his eyes back to the road.
“Safe,” snarled Rosilyn, the word sharp and almost derogatory, “You think I’m stupid, mister Teneros?”
She knew his name?
More of that longing warmth coursed through him. He hadn’t even thought she was even aware of him, a minor VP in the company, yet she knew his name.
“I’m d-d-doing this for your…for your own good, Miss Crenshaw,” he answered.
He saw her smirk and let out a low grunt. “My own good, eh? Then why the cuffs…Mikie?”
Don’t listen to her buddy, growled his mind, think about all that money…better, younger girls all cooing at your feet wanting just a small piece of your success.
“We thought…you, you wouldn’t agree with our precautions, Miss Crenshaw,” he said.
“Oh. So not your idea. Those bastards!”
Her voice dropped lips parting again in a snarl like a cornered she-wolf fighting for her life. In truth Rosilyn was cornered, and Mike pitied the woman sitting helpless back there. He chanced a look down at the black case in the seat next to him.
Could he do it, he wondered.
Besides her beauty, Rosilyn was a very effective manager and always made good choices when it came to directing ‘her’ company. Why couldn’t she just go along with the new development plans? Who cares about some squirmy mudskipper’s habitat. The ground was ripe for use, but she has to be the Martyr, love the land, love nature, why can’t you love me?
A cry cut the air startling him, “THOSE INCONSIDERATE, TWO-TIMING, BASTARDS!” raged Rosilyn, struggling again against her bonds.
“Miss Crenshaw, please—”
“Don’t you ‘please’ me! You’re going to kill me! You’re taking me out to some secluded spot to soil your hands with my blood!”
Her words chilled him. “Calm yourself, Miss Crenshaw,” Mike finally said, “I’m not going to do anything of the sort.”
Rosilyn’s head hung down, concealing the sobs from Mike’s eyes, her body heaved several times before she drew herself back up. Mascara streaked down her cheeks in the streams of tears, and she sat in silence, lips trembling. All her usual boldness faded away, the once mighty queen of Vertius now reduced to a helpless prisoner on her way to her execution.
She’s expendable, buddy, whispered the voice in his head, but Mike disliked the price success demanded from him. He wanted her, he wanted to have her. Break though that stubborn, aloft attitude Rosilyn had. Bring her back down to earth; his world where he could make her happy.
The companies needs and wants had to be met. There was no other way around it.
“Nothing is going to happen to you, Miss Crenshaw,” he told her, but a hard knot of pain twisted his stomach.
Rosilyn sniffled and she sat back to stare out the rain streaked. The water-streaked glass cast eerie shadows across her face heightening the despair reflecting in her eyes. Mike was about to say more but she let out a loud sigh turning back towards him again.
“Mikie…please…please don’t hurt me,” she said.
Her plea drew more tension up, Mike setting his eyes back to the road not wishing to upset her further.
“I’m—” he paused, gulping down the lump in his throat, “nothing is going to happen to you, Rosilyn. I promise.”
He raised the partition, once more that feeling of dread returning as they travelled on through the murky darkness in silence.