If I am to tell you my story, I must go back to how it all started. If I do not, I can never expect you to understand. I cannot be forgiven for the things I have done, but forgiveness is no longer what I seek.

Ten years ago, I was a happily married man. I had a wife, a dog, a child on the way. I lost it all. If I were writing a novel, I would say I lost it all in an instant, but that isn't the way it happened. It isn't how it happened at all.

My story starts on a regular day on a regular street in a regular town. At the time, I worked as a chemist for a pharmaceutical company. No one important, just a little start-up thing. My company made all sorts of chemicals that went into drugs, including a few that would have had a fairly high value on the street. It was this that would become my downfall.

I walked from my house to work each day, and I loved it. It was a short walk, and at the end, I came home to the most beautiful woman in the world. One night, I returned home a little later than usual and saw a strange man standing by the sidewalk of my front lawn. I thought nothing of it and continued up the sidewalk to the front door. As I reached the front door, I realized that he was following behind me. I paused, may keys halfway to the door, and turned to confront him.

I was greeted by the ugliest face I'd ever seen. He grimaced and motioned with his head to draw my attention to the handgun he held close to his side. "Inside, and be quiet about it." I hesitated, thinking of my pregnant wife inside the house, not wanting to expose her to this lunatic. As if reading my thoughts, he grinned. "Don't worry. She's safe. Charlie's watchin' after her." Sweat dripped from the tip of my nose as I turned again and opened the door. That was when I saw.

Julia sat in the living room. Though maybe sat isn't the right word when someone is tied down in a chair with her arms behind her back. She was gagged and had obviously been crying. On the floor between the living room and the kitchen was Max, our beagle, his neck obviously snapped by one of the brutes now invading our house. "Sit," Ugly said, "we've got a business proposition for you." Even then, it struck me as odd to hear this hideous troll of a man call it a business proposition, but what choice did I have? I sat.

"Let me explain something. I know who you are, what you do and where you work. You have something that can be worth a lot to us. I'm going to explain this once, slowly so that every detail is crystal clear to you. If you don't get it, your wife over here is going to be very sorry." He paused as if for dramatic effect. "I need you to help us out. We need access to your plant and you are going to give it to us."

"I don't understand. You'd like a tour?" I immediately began to regret the sarcasm as his fist came down hard across my nose.

"Try again, smart guy." It was as if he learned to be a thug from watching AMC. "What we need is chemicals, lot of them. Specifically, we need what's on the trucks arriving tomorrow night."

"There's no way. Even if I did let you in to get to it, there is no way you could get it out again."

"You'll get us in tomorrow night. Let us worry about getting back out."

"If I do it, the logs will show that I came in at night. There will be no hiding that I was the one involved."

"Yeah. Tell 'em the guys who did it threatened to kill your wife if you didn't help out, maybe they'll be lenient."

Silence. No sound. Not even the beating of my heart. "Now," he smirked down at me again, "I've got some plans to make. Charlie here will stick around to make sure nobody does anything stupid. I suggest you think about calling in sick tomorrow. You'll need to rest up. You're going to have a busy night."