Always Be a Wolf

If there was a crazy train, Diego Silva drove it. He did so with no apology, no care; he was like the devil himself, plunked into the middle of a society that insisted on conformity while resented it at the same time. It was the world that both hated and admired the 40-year-old Colombian man who had a certain charm that was impossible to deny; but he was a joker dressed in an Armani suit, a firecracker that was always ready to explode; you could see it in his black eyes, the same ones that occasionally warmed into a gentle brown but very few people saw that side of him. He was dangerous and the moment Diego sensed your fear, he would invade it with both guns blazing. Others discomfort rarely phased him. He fed off it. Chase Jacobs knew this all too well but had fortunately grown resistant to the world around him after dealing with some turbulence in his own life. Diego and his games were nothing new; he challenged his young employee on a daily basis, often in the form of an unscrupulous or overtly sexual comment, he seemed to enjoy watching Chase’s reaction, his eyes glazing over in pleasure, a suppressed grin on his lips, as if holding back from saying something that pushed things just a little too far. But he liked to push things far; the question was when would Chase fight his stubborn side that refused to meet the challenge; the boxer in him wanted to prove that none of Diego’s games affected him, no words intimidated him and nothing, absolutely nothing, would get the best of him. But that was a challenge Diego was only too happy to take on. It was at the moment when Chase thought his heart was about to explode, that he felt things had finally gone way too far. Feeling the blood pumping through every inch of him, from the tip of his toes to the top of his head at an exhilarated pace, knowing Diego’s dark eyes were occasionally, gingerly glancing toward his face, hoping to find some sign of emotion, it was getting increasingly difficult to fight those natural impulses from being exposed. This was like nothing he had ever felt before; his hand gripping on the smooth material while his eyes began to water, his throat too dry to speak, he struggled with not reacting but deep down, he knew Diego was already seeing the subtle hints that gave him away. “Stop! You have to stop!” Chase attempted to scream and yet, his voice was the hushed tone of a child, barely escaping his lips. And that’s when he heard it; the gentle, almost unnoticeable laugh that Diego was attempting to confine, that pleasurable moment when he knew he had finally won. “You’re going to kill us both,” Chase finally managed to regain his normal, deep voice as he watched the empty road ahead of them, the gears shifting in Diego’s hand, as he only increased the speed of the brand new Gran Turismo that he had driven off the lot earlier that day. What had started out as a simple drive out of the city limits to show off his new car was now turning into a horrifying adventure, as they flew past other cars and road signs indicating that they were driving at a speed that was twice the acceptable limit. “Nonsense, amigo, this is living,” Diego replied, followed by a devilish laugh that made Chase wish he had not said a thing. This would only entice him to go faster, with no regards for life, he wouldn’t care if he killed them both in a brand new car; one that would make most people scared to drive at a normal speed because of its value, let alone flying down the 401 as if they were part of a Nascar adventure. “You worry too much. That is the dad in you talking.” A mischievous smirk caused the Colombian’s lips to pucker into a stiff smile, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, fortunately, they stayed focused on the road ahead. Shaking his head and letting out a short laugh, he began to gear down and Chase felt his body start to calm. He now felt the tightness in the back of his neck, an ache in his chest that replaced the intense fear as he caressed his sweaty palms, his fingers feeling powerless and weak. When he glanced into the side mirror, he saw panic in his dark brown eyes, his tanned complexion appearing unusually flushed, as his hand ran through his short, black hair as a form of self-comfort. Relief also brought with it something very unexpected; a beautiful elation that he had only previously experienced after sex. It made him wonder if this was Diego’s plan all along. “Chase you don’t understand,” Diego continued to focus on the road as the car, now at a normal speed, pulled to an exit; not that Chase had any idea where they were at that moment. New to Ontario, he had only moved to Toronto a week earlier after Diego turned his private sex party business legit and decided to take their Canadian office to somewhere more central. “If you’ve never felt intense fear ripping through your entire body, then how would you know that you’ve ever truly lived? Can you tell me that? You’re what? 23? 24? You should thrive on this kind of thing.” Chase remained silent hating to admit that there was some truth to Diego’s statement, regardless of how crazy it sounded, hadn’t this experience awakened his senses in a way nothing else had in a long time? Only months earlier, his life had fallen flat. That was until Diego Silva walked in the door at the former office in Calgary. Nothing had been normal since that day.