Push (BXB)

99 Problems

***Grey's POV***

This starts when Grey drops off Mak.

I watch as Mak slowly trudges towards the gazebo. I can't stay and watch too long. It could impair our plan.

I drive away quietly to meet my father, Mark, Kip and Mario. We sit in a secluded area with authorities. The wire transmits the conversation into a computer that records the whole conversation.

The sounds of leaves swaying, birds chirping and unstable breathing fill the first minutes of recording.

He's so scared. Every breath screams his fear like a wailing child.

My knees bobble up and down. My elbows rest against them. My feet tap the ground below us. My hands vibrate my head upwards and down.

I run my fingers over my cheeks and sigh deeply into my cupped hands.

"We got this son. Calm down please." Dad soothes me.

I look around and take note of the three stern faces around me. Mark, Kip and Mario nod their heads at me in unison. I groan lowly.

Stay calm Greyson. Stay. Fucking. Calm.

No words are exchanged for quite some time. The heavy foot steps of the offender can be picked up as light thuds.

"Can that go louder? It's barely audible." My dad instructs.

The agent adjusts the frequency. Mak's strangled breaths can be heard clearly. The cough infested breath of Carl Fucking Luger is raspily filling the silence.

I can pick up the distinct sound of Mak's feet thumping against the old wood floors of the gazebo.

"Oh my, Jackie." The fat bastard purrs. The use of that name lights the wick to my anger.

"Just looking at you reminds me of the fun we had." Carl chuckles. The sound is devious and slightly demonic.

Mak stays quiet. I can only imagine the scenarios dancing in his intricate mind.

"Oh don't be that way. At least look at me." Carl whines. His voice drips with provocation.

"He has a lot of fucking nerve." Mark growls angrily.

"This is why I like 'em younger. Too much sass when you get your bearings." Carl chuckles throatily and you can hear his hand swishing across material.

"You're a sick fuck." Mak spits the words off his tongue acerbically.

"Don't I know." Carl guffaws. His smoker's coughs interrupts his self appreciation.

"Get to the point of this charade." Mak huffs out.

"Jesus Mak is dishing it." Kip smiles proudly.

I nod my head in agreement. My baby is doing well.

"Now, now. Let's not rush. I'm rather enjoying myself." Carl breathes huskily. You can hear the shuffling of his feet. The bench creaks as I imagine him sitting down.

"That makes one of us." Mak sneers.

A light chuckle escapes my lips. I cross my arms over my chest and lean back against a tree. I tilt my head toward the sky and listen intently.

"Damn, you're feisty. That could have been fun." Carl chuckles once again at his demented humor. I find no amusement in his words.

"Jackie. My favorite toy. I have missed you." Carl lulls the words out. I ball my fists and tuck them tightly under my biceps.