I want him to know why, too. I kind of like being Mia’s harbinger of justice. It’s not a hat I usually wear, but she’s given me the last few days; I owe her this much.
We make it to his bedroom easily. For a minute, we just stand there and look at this slumbering asshole. Here he is, sleeping like a baby, thinking he’ll wake up in a few hours and go about another meaningless, monotonous day of his worthless life.
A man is most vulnerable when he’s asleep—unguarded, unconscious, unprepared for whatever threats might be lurking in the shadows. The poetic thing about it is, he’s been the monster in the dark before. The idea of this unimpressive little maggot being any kind of monster is frankly insulting. I work at what I am; this sloppy marshmallow of a man shouldn’t be able to inflict lasting damage on a person—least of all, Mia. Someone like this should never have been allowed to touch a hair on her head, not even in his wildest dreams.
Leroy Weiss is a large man made entirely of softness where there should be edges. If he has a clavicle, you can’t see it through the blanket of flesh that is his flabby chest. Springy black hairs cover the soft, fleshy surface. I can’t help noticing the defeated set of his shoulders. I don’t ordinarily focus much on a man’s shoulders, but I have noticed over the past couple days Mia’s eyes are often drawn to mine. I don’t have soft, defeated shoulders. I have broad, muscular shoulders. It’s one of the many things I’ve determined Mia must like about me, since she ogles them about as often as I ogle her breasts.
I wonder if she’s drawn to strong shoulders since this man’s are so weak.
I wonder if everything about this man is weak. He’s still asleep, but my money’s on yes. On paper, he appeared lazy and unimpressive. In person, I’m already vaguely disgusted.
Somewhere under there must be muscle tissue, but he’s certainly never worked at enhancing it. Leroy has two chins and they both need a shave. His eyes are set freakishly close together in his bulbous, ugly face. He has a huge, bumpy, cauliflower-like nose with hairs poking out. Everything about the man is unkempt and thoroughly disgusting.
He’s also sleeping in just a pair of boxers. I’m unexcited at the prospect of touching his probably greasy skin long enough to haul him out of the house.
Goddamn Alec. I never have to do this part.
Oh well.
Adrian and I exchange looks. He nods and heads over to the bed. Sets his black leather bag down and pulls back the flap. He grabs a sock he wore at the gym yesterday morning and smiles in anticipation. Then he pulls out the duct tape and bends to set a length of rope on the floor.
I don’t even have to help with this part. Adrian is my right hand man for a reason. Marshmallow man is asleep one second and jolting awake as Adrian shoves a dirty sock into his mouth the next. He begins thrashing immediately but Adrian anchors him with a knee and makes quick work of wrapping duct tape around his mouth and then around his head a couple more times at a different angle so he can’t move his jaw.
Marshmallow man is still attempting muffled screams so Adrian punches him in the face and grabs his gun, pointing it to his forehead. He tries to beg. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you can see it in the lines of his face, the panic in his eyes—he’s begging, pleading for his miserable life.
“Listen, motherfucker, I have no qualms about shooting you in the gut and letting you slowly bleed out right here. Keep fucking making noise and see what happens.”
Leroy has no idea what’s going on, but he’s scared shitless. His gaze jumps to me, terror in his beady little eyes. I doubt he knows who I am, but I’m one of two men who just showed up in his bedroom in the middle of the night with guns and kidnapping paraphernalia; it’s not hard to guess I’m bad news.
Figuring he still somehow has a shot at leaving this situation alive, he stops making noise. His gaze darts from me to Adrian as Adrian climbs off the bed and retrieves the rope.
I take a step closer. “Want me to do anything?”
“Nah, Leroy here is gonna be a good hostage, aren’t you, Leroy?”
Leroy nods vigorously.
“Got any valuables, Leroy?”
He nods even harder, faintly relieved. Since Adrian is leading him to believe maybe this is a mere robbery, he doesn’t think he’s fighting for his life. He doesn’t put up as much of a fight as Adrian ties his arms behind his back and starts wrapping the rope around his wrists. He’s apprehensive and balks a little when Adrian pulls his elbows together and ties those up, too.