Regrets, I've Had A Few

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Cover image:

Regrets, I’ve Had A Few.

I told myself this wouldn’t happen again. I’d keep control, let the man speak. If he could explain his actions in a satisfactory way then I’d think of a suitable punishment; keep things in some sort of perspective.

I looked at him, ankles bound to the chair legs, arms tied behind his back. “Why did you do it?”

He doesn’t say anything, but then I realize he can’t. Reaching out I remove the gag, waiting for him to speak up.

This man doesn’t say a word, just lets his head drop forward. “Answer me, damn you!” I aim a kick at his ankle, make solid contact and he flinches. “Well? And I’m telling you, it had better be good.”

“They threatened me... my family. I had to talk.” His words are spoken in not much more than a whisper but they seem to echo around the warehouse.

I stare at him, put a hand beneath his chin and force his head up so that his eyes meet mine. “He threatened you, did he? So you thought you’d just sell me along with all your mates.”

“I don’t have any mates.”

The laugh escapes my lips before I have a chance to hold it back. “Well, you sure as hell don’t have any now. Who’s going to stand behind a back-stabbing snake like you, eh?” I cuff him once on his left ear with enough force to turn his head away.

That was the moment when I should have stepped back. Taken a break or let someone else take over. I was still in control and the upper hand was most definitely my own. But the thing is I’m not a smart guy. I pay others to have the brain-power. I come up with the ideas, the finance, the manpower and they work out the finer details.

Me, I’ve never been one for logic, am far more likely to follow my emotions. And right now my emotions are yelling in my ear that he has already betrayed me once, and no doubt would do so again. He knows too much.

Through hooded eyes he watches my hand reach inside my jacket. “You won’t do it. Hell, how long have we been mates?”

I lift up my eyebrows. “You reckon? Well, think again.” The gun is in my hand, pointed right at his head, and my finger tightens on the trigger. I’m standing far enough away to miss getting spattered as his head explodes.

Replacing the gun in my jacket, I call out to the guys outside. “Come and clean this up, would you.” It’s not a request, but an order and they know it. One of them, Craig, I think, looks at me and gives a shake of his head. “I thought you said this wouldn’t happen again, boss.”

“I know... I know... but you know how things are.” I don’t wait for him to reply, but walk outside of the warehouse, draw in a deep breath and give myself a shake. It’s always the same. Regret and remorse after I’ve done acted, but my anger seems to over-ride these every single time.



Submitted: February 23, 2021

© Copyright 2021 hullabaloo22. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:



Another scary addition to your cast of characters.

Wed, February 24th, 2021 7:55pm

Mike S.

An excellent anger management disappointment tale, Hull

Wed, February 24th, 2021 10:00pm

Craig Davison

Je n'regret rien.

Thu, February 25th, 2021 10:26am

Craig Davison

Je n'regret rien.

Thu, February 25th, 2021 10:26am

Serge Wlodarski

Sometimes you gotta go with your instincts.

Thu, February 25th, 2021 4:50pm

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