Bad Games 2 - Vengeful Games (23 page)

The appalled Megablast tribe had said nothing, only hurried towards the elevators as though fleeing a potential assailant. Desperate, Patrick had attempted stopping the elevator doors from closing by slamming his hand against one of them. A female client slapped his hand away and called him a disgusting pig.

Patrick had brought his hand back as though suddenly burned and then watched helplessly as the metal doors came together until his clients were officially gone. He turned and gaped at Miles.

Miles said, “My office—
right-fucking-now.
”

*

Patrick sat slumped over in front of Miles’ desk, his head down, both hands pressed against it. Miles raged for over twenty minutes:

“Never in my 35 years in the business …”

“What the fuck is wrong with you … ?!”

“You’ve really done it, you son of a bitch. You’ve done it to yourself, and you’ve done it to
ME!
Do you know what this will do to us when word gets out?!”

When Miles had eventually finished his fume—and Patrick didn’t dare speak a word during its entirety—his face was all veins and purple skin, both hands long since slammed and braced on his desk as he leaned in to hammer home each word. “Say something!” he demanded.

Patrick lifted his head, and a strange calm washed over him. Still upset of course, still confused of course, but … it wasn’t him. He knew this as fact. And he felt a surge of righteousness in this undeniable truth.

“It wasn’t me,” Patrick said.

Miles blinked many times. “Come again?”

“It wasn’t me.”

Miles flumped back into his chair, threw his hands towards the sky. “Well hallelujah! That solves everything.” He picked up the phone. “Let me just call them back and tell them that the goddamn skin flick they watched as part of
your
presentation had nothing to do with you. Let me just tell them that and then all will be right-as-fucking-rain.” He slammed the phone back down.

Patrick’s exterior remained calm while his mind surged with suspicion. “It was someone else,” he said. “Someone did this to me. I don’t know who, and I don’t know how, but someone—”

When Miles and Patrick had first entered Miles’ office, Miles had drawn the shades with such force that one shade had fallen closed on a locked angle, giving a small diagonal view into the reception area. And like some gifted clue, Patrick spotted Steve Lucas walking right on by.

That glance earlier. What was behind that glance? What was behind the son of a bitch’s glance???

Patrick leapt from his chair and ripped open Miles’ door. He was on top of Steve Lucas in two strides and snatched his arm as though grabbing a fleeing thief.

“Hey!” Lucas shouted. “What the—”

Patrick pulled Lucas back into Miles’ office, slammed the door shut with the heel of his foot, and then shoved Lucas into the corner of the room.

“
Him,
” Patrick said, his finger pointing at Lucas with such malice it looked capable of firing bullets. “It was him.”

Lucas stuttered, “What the hell is—”

“Shut up!” Patrick screamed. He turned to Miles, his finger still pointed at Lucas. “He fucked up that big software account and now he’s fucking up mine! He’s getting revenge because I know what he did.”

Lucas went white. “I don’t know what he’s talking about, sir. I—”

“Bullshit!” Patrick spat at him. He went back to Miles. “You know why he blew that software account, boss? Because he was busy getting piss-drunk and beating the shit out of a woman. That’s why. I’m the only one who knows that, and the little prick can’t stand it.” He whipped back to Lucas. “Can you? You can’t stand knowing I’ve got one up on you. So you tap into my software and try to ruin me!”

“
STOP!
” Miles yelled. “Just … stop.” He sighed and shook his head. “Look, I don’t know what the beef is between you two, and to be honest, I don’t care—in
my
place of work you leave that shit at the front door. Patrick, you pointing fingers isn’t going to undo what just happened here today.”

Patrick nodded fast. “I know it won’t, I know. But it
will
prove that I didn’t do this. That account meant everything to me.” He pointed his finger at Lucas again. “And
he
knew that.
He’s
responsible for what happened.”

Miles hung his head, sighed, raised it and looked at Lucas. “Steve?”

Lucas looked terrified. “What?”

Miles splayed a hand. “Do you have anything to say?”

“
No.
I don’t even know what’s going on!”

“Somebody sabotaged Patrick’s presentation. Some pornographic images were inserted into the automatic slideshow. The account is blown.”

Patrick studied Lucas’ reaction. Despite his rage, he could not help but acknowledge that Lucas wore a convincing look of shock. He was a wimp—he did not handle confrontation well. To think that he may be lying so convincingly now was difficult to accept.

Could it have been someone else in the office? Perhaps. Problem is, Patrick thought, contrary to Hollywood’s lust for the beaten-to-death twist-ending, in real life it usually
is
the most likely suspect.

“It was him,” Patrick said. “It had to be. Who else would have access to my office?”

“Patrick, I swear—”

“
Shut up
,” Patrick said without turning, his eyes fixed on Miles the whole time he spoke.

Miles sighed yet again, looked at both men with a show of contempt. He then picked up the phone and punched a few numbers. “Stan? It’s Jon Miles. I need you to check all security codes entered into the system in the past—hold on …” Miles placed a hand over the receiver. “When was the last time you ran a check on your software, Patrick?”

Without hesitation, Patrick said: “Right before I left last night. After six.”

Miles took his hand away from the receiver. “Yeah, Stan, you still there? Check and see if anyone came in after six last night.”

“I left at five last night,” Lucas blurted. “My brother and his kids are in from out of town!”

Both men ignored him—the holy grail of truth lie on the other end of the telephone receiver.

Lucas continued pleading. “I’m telling you, I—”

Miles held up a hand, silencing him. “Yeah, Stan, I’m here … uh huh.” His eyes fell hard on Lucas. “Thanks.” Miles hung up. “Steve, our security system says you entered the building at exactly 12:15 a.m. last night. The officers ended their shift at 12. System says you swiped your way out at exactly 3:47 a.m. You mind telling me what you were—”

Patrick spun and hammered Lucas in the face, shattering his nose into a bloody mess. Lucas fell back against the wall and slumped to the ground in a daze.

“
You motherfucker!
” Patrick screamed, burying his foot into Lucas’ ribs. The man cried out, moaned and rolled over into a fetal ball.

Patrick kicked his spine.

He kicked the back of his head.

He kicked his spine again.

Miles hustled from behind his desk and grabbed Patrick from behind in a bear-hug. Patrick threw him off with ease and continued to kick Lucas anywhere he could. Miles gave up, turned and yanked open his door. “
Call security!
”

A beast Patrick long-thought dead—a beast he sometimes refused to believe he had once embodied—had been resurrected, and when security rushed in to try and restrain him, Patrick actually roared.

It took four guards to finally subdue him.

Chapter 49

They were not back in Miles’ office after the fray. They were in the security office on the bottom floor. Patrick sat in a chair, a security guard on either side of him. Miles was on his feet, pacing back and forth in front of Patrick as he spoke.

“Lucas is on his way to the hospital,” Miles said. “He looks like a goddamned bus ran him over.”

Patrick stayed quiet, looking at the floor. His rage was not gone; common sense just had a hold on it.

“His story checked out you know,” Miles said. “His brother and kids in town and all.”

Patrick lifted his head. “What?”

“We checked into it. His brother and kids
were
at his place last night.”

Patrick frowned, dropped his eyes for a moment as he searched for reason. When they snapped back up on Miles, he said, “The system said he got here after twelve and stayed until almost four. He could have snuck out after they went to sleep.”

“His brother claimed they were up until
two
, catching up. He’s willing to testify to that.”

Patrick was adamant. “But that’s not—then how else do you explain …”

Miles stopped pacing and faced Patrick. “I don’t know how to explain it, Patrick.”

Patrick slapped his own chest. “You still don’t think
I
had anything to do with this, do you?”

Miles closed his eyes and shook his head. He looked earnest. “No.”

“Well then what the hell could have—”

Miles held up a hand. “Cool it, Patrick. Just cool it.” He waited a tick. “The only logical thing I can think of right now is that someone got a hold of Lucas’ key card.”

Patrick dropped his eyes in thought again. In his haste to blame Lucas he had never considered such a possibility. “Okay …” he said. “So then who would have—?”

“
Except
,” Miles interrupted, “Lucas had his key card on him when he was carted off to the ER. We checked.”

“So then both Lucas
and
his brother are lying,” Patrick said.

Miles grabbed a chair and pulled it close to Patrick’s. He sat facing him, looked Patrick in the eye with equal parts sympathy and severity. “I don’t think they are, Patrick.” Miles lowered his voice—the guards could still hear, no doubt, yet he lowered it all the same for what Patrick guessed was the
man-to-man
,
let’s cut the bullshit
spiel to come. “Look, Patrick, I’m not an ignorant boss. I’m not blind. I know my employees, and I know Steve Lucas can be a pain in the ass sometimes. But I also know he wouldn’t do something like this. He doesn’t have it in him, he doesn’t have the balls. He’s a decent employee, and he can get the job done, but there’s a reason he never gets the really big accounts.” Miles leaned in closer. “Now, having just admitted that to you, can you honestly tell me you think Steve Lucas is capable of pulling something off like
this
? Something of this magnitude?”

Patrick flashed on Lucas in his apartment last week. How scared he looked. How child-like. Patrick flashed on the times he told Lucas to get the hell out of his office. Again, how scared, how child-like. Miles was right: Steve Lucas was an annoying douche, but not the type to pull off something like this. What happened required planning, significant tech-knowledge … and a serious set of balls. Once again Patrick had to concede to Miles: Lucas didn’t have big balls. Average ones even.

Patrick pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay,” he said. “So what now? Is the blame back in
my
lap?”

Miles leaned back but did not move his chair. “No,” he said. “I don’t believe the Patrick I knew had this in him either.”

Patrick frowned. “The Patrick you
knew?
”

Miles looked at both guards. “Can you leave us alone for a few seconds, fellas? It’s okay.”

The guards exchanged glances then left.

Miles continued. “I know about what you and your family went through, Patrick.”

“Jon—”

Miles held up a hand. “I mean who doesn’t, right? The media didn’t exactly try to keep it a secret. And the public, they watch the news, they’re horrified for a bit, and then just like that it’s over and forgotten. Kind of like watching a movie. But it doesn’t work that way for you—it’s not forgotten just because it’s over. I’m not an ignorant boss. Something happens to a man after war. It changes him. Some say that war is the easy part. It’s the after that tears you up.”

Patrick went to speak, but Miles raised his hand again.

“But you’re a strong son of a bitch, Patrick. Not just here …” He touched Patrick’s thick arm. “But in here …” He touched Patrick’s heart. “And up here …” He pointed to Patrick’s head. “I wouldn’t have brought you back if I didn’t think you were ready. And I gave you Megablast because I
knew
you could handle it. Hell, maybe part of me suspected you
needed
something that big to occupy your mind. It wasn’t pity though. Christ, no, it wasn’t pity. This is my company after all; I can’t afford to be gracious at the expense of my wallet.” He smiled.

Patrick didn’t.

“And then I hear about your father-in-law,” Miles continued. “I even hear about your dog.”

Patrick’s chin retracted.

“I’m not an ignorant boss, Patrick …”

Yes, you’ve made that quite clear.

“I haven’t been in this business as long as I have without keeping solid tabs on all my employees.” Miles leaned back in his chair. “So I’ll be honest with you, Patrick. A part of me thought about taking Megablast away from you. I gave it to you in confidence when you came back to work. But after what’s been happening the last few months …”

“
What’s
been happening?”

Miles held up both hands and patted the air. “Relax, Patrick. I’m just saying every man has his limits.”

“Limits? You think I’m cracking up? You think I put porn in the biggest presentation of my life as some kind of joke?”

“Did I say that?”

“You’re implying it.”

“I don’t imply, Patrick. I
say
. And if I thought you were cracking up I would have taken you off the Megablast account immediately.”

“So then what’s all this, ‘the Patrick you knew’ stuff? Are you saying I’m not the same guy?”

Miles was beginning to look annoyed. “I’m saying you need some time off.”

“You’re firing me.”

“No—I’m saying you need some time off.”

Patrick’s breath quickened. “Tell me something,” he said.

Miles straightened his posture. “What?”