I shake my head. “Don’t change your methods on my account,” I tell him, “I relish the opportunity to watch a Master in his element.”
The slight flush I see to the chubby man's cheeks causes me to chuckle, but the compliment isn’t untrue either.
Kris and I found Moe a number of years ago as an acquisition. He had been terrorizing a small town for years before someone caught on and hired us. Once we found out that Moe was an ex-surgeon and self-taught butcher with a penchant for pain, we had to hire him ourselves. The man who put the hit on Moe was his first victim as the CASH-ULTY Butcher and since then, his methods have become infamous in certain circles.
Following my encouragement, Moe takes off the red ball gag. The bound man sputters and coughs, spittle flying from his mouth.
“Please! You have to help me!” He says to me, pulling his body in the chair as far as the straps will allow. I resist the urge to laugh at the man's pleading. Standing, I slowly move and stop when I’m only two feet in front of him. Cocking my head to the side, I smile.
“Darling, who do you think put you here?”
The man's eyes grow comically wide, and his mouth opens to scream before Moe’s hand flies out, dazing the man.
“Sorry, Mistress. These assholes don’t get it,” Moe shakes his head.
“I understand,” I tell him. The man’s screams start up again and I roll my eyes. Moe curses and goes back to his desk, fumbling around until he comes back with a syringe in hand. He quickly injects it into the man who goes limp in seconds.
“Much better,” he says, “I could use a break anyway. So, Mistress, what brings you down to my humble abode today?”
I let out a light laugh. “Humble, is it? Well, I might actually have a new victim for you tomorrow. I wanted to give you a heads up, make sure you had the space.”
Moe nods. “For you, Mistress, I’d make the space.”
My smile grows, slow and catlike.
“Good. I have someone who is dying to meet you.”
Chapter 5
Sin
I haveto give it to the cunt, leaving the fluorescent lights on all day and night was a nice touch. The chains really are expertly placed, leaving almost no slack or movement, making any kind of comfortable positioning impossible. I allowed myself to doze into my chest for a short while, but I’ve stayed awake for longer in more uncomfortable places.
By my mental clock, my twenty-four hours is more than up, and the ginger-bitch hasn’t made an appearance yet. Not like I’d expect a woman to keep her word, though her reputation makes me believe otherwise. Men describe her as a ruthless, coldhearted bitch. Savvy, though. She managed to steal, improve, and keep one of the largest underground human trafficking networks in the world.
She’ll be one to watch for, but nothing I can’t handle.
After all, she’s still just a woman. And no one, man or woman, has ever bested me.
I stick to my code: trust no one but myself.
From down the hall, the faint sound of clicking heels has the corner of my mouth turning up. A few hours off, but not bad.
When the door opens, I don’t bother hiding my face, instead, keeping a steady eye on the door. Sure enough, the ginger bitch walks through while pretty boy stands outside the door.
She says nothing, a hand on her hip as she looks at me questioningly.
I take in her posture and face closely. If not for the hint of makeup under the bright lights, I may not have noticed the darker bags under her eyes. I resist the urge to smirk at the thought she’s already losing sleep.
When I don’t respond to the look she’s giving me, she sighs.
“Do we really need to do it this way?” she asks as though torturing me for my name will be some big chore.
I shrug as much as my chains will allow.
“You could just tell me your name? Save yourself a lot of grief,” she suggests, like she’s doing me a favor to be telling me this.
“I have no other name to give,” I reply. Her eyes meet mine, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say she recognized the honesty in that statement. Any other name I’ve had is long gone. I am no one but Sin now.