Page 24

(Present)

It’s been two days since I decked Creek in the face. I feel awful about it, but it was better than the alternative. My mind had been screaming at me to take him out, which isn’t healthy, not to mention, unacceptable. Blithe would disapprove most of all.

But come on... Marry her? Because some fucker in a suit said? I don't think so.

I had hung back to linger around corners like a creepy stalker to gather information. If I'm understanding the situation correctly, they killed the wrong man. Therefore Mr. Suit is demanding his life or his hand for his daughter?

Blasphemy.

How does one kill the wrong person anyways? I must have never ran into this issue in my twenty years. I still have a lot to learn, and boy do I love learning.

Creek was correct about one thing. I am a little mad, especially where my loved ones are concerned. Like it or not, he's becoming a part of that category.

Which is what led me here.

I followed the suit man home the other day and as always I'm a man with a plan. A wicked witch and the famous Blithe Hue raised me after all.

I took the time to properly scope the place out. Now I know two days isn’t enough to determine patterns and such. Buuuuuuuuut, I fucking live for drama so if anything pops out to play, I'll handle it by ear.

I'm sitting at the dining room table in an unnecessarily large mansion as I wait for Mr. Garbara to come home. I’ve since learned his name is Steven. Research tells me he's very important. My brains tells me I don't give a fuck.

I hear the front door open and close. The clack of expensive shoes sounds against the tiles as he saunters inside.

My lips twitch because I'm excited. As much as I resented being his puppet, it did have it's perks. For example, taking back the power that the universe always seems to steal from me at every turn. When he would send me out to set someone straight, it was guaranteed results.

Creek is lucky to have me. I've been doing this for years.

When Steven approaches the entry way, he pauses. Wild eyes take in the artistic scene I've created. Face blanching by the second as the silence stretches on.

“Steven! You’ve joined us, very exciting indeed. Please, take your seat.”

“Y-you’re sick.”

He chokes.

“You haven't seen sick.”

My face darkens as I show him the shattered boy hidden beneath the serene one who wears my face. My eyes are dead when they connect with his. “I. Said. Sit.”

He’s right, it's sick. But he has no idea the amount of sick shit I've had to endure and nobody that occupies this table was innocent. I made sure of it. I would never hurt a harmless person unless I was given no choice. Something he would make me do...

There are six chairs at the dinning table. The chair opposite mine, at the head of the table is empty. Specifically, for him.

The two chairs on both sides of the table are occupied with four of his security guards. Bloody devils carved into their foreheads and hearts removed from their chests. The muscles rest, not beating, on the pretty white plates I found in the kitchen, in front of each of them. I took it upon myself to cut a slice from each and stuck it in their dead mouths.

The thing is, you can learn a lot in two days, and a lot I did. . .

I knew this motherfucker was evil the second my eyes fell on him.

Human. Fucking. Trafficking.

Something he’s only recently dipped his toes in. I'm positive the Hue’s know nothing about this because Shaide would have taken him out already considering that happens to be his specialty.

I got a lot of my information from the security guards that I didn’t kill. The ones who looked uncomfortable in their shoes. Who likely didn’t know what they were getting themselves into before it was too late.

The dead ones were just as evil as the man taking his seat. Watching me carefully as he does so.

The plate in front of me has the heart of the fifth man I killed. He's tucked safely away for the time being. I've taken a bite out of it, for the simple fact that it makes me look unhinged. Not to worry, I didn’t chew or swallow. I also want him to know that I don't give a fuck what his last name is, where he comes from, who his momma and daddy were, what he owns or who he knows.

I don't come from his world; I was just destroyed by it a long time ago. All of this means nothing to me. He means nothing. Creek spoke as if I should be afraid, but a man who has nothing to lose, has nothing to fear.

Stevens ass connects with the seat ten years later and he scowls at me. His eyes follow the path of blood that drips down my chin and onto my shirt.

“What do you want?”

I say nothing, my gaze trained on him.

We stare at one another for at least a solid five minutes before he starts shifting uncomfortably. To his credit, he lasted longer than most do.

“Where is my daughter?”

I say nothing, my gaze trained on him.

Fortunately for him, I do NOT, nor will I EVER, use someone’s loved one against them. His daughter is unharmed and tucked away safe.

“Creek will not be marrying your daughter.”

I state simply.

He sputters, face turning red. “Where. Is. She?”

He barks through clenched teeth and barely contained anger.

I give the empty white plate that sits on the table in front of him a pointed glance. His eyes follow mine and widen.

It's simple, really. Cooperate or become your own dinner. Fitting considering, he believes himself to be untouchable enough to serve children up on platters.

NEWSFLASH: NOBODY IS UNTOUCHABLE.

“Here’s what's going to happen Mr. Garbara.”

I mock because I'm Harlyn and I can. “You are going to figure out how much money is owed to Ressyn Hue for all the times your little brother ripped him off.”

He opens his mouth to reject, and I pull out two of my knifes.

Eyes narrowing his lips purse. “You will pay this back in full.”

He takes a deep breath that does nothing to mask his rage. “Then you’re going to apologize for the drama and relieve Creek of his marital duties.”

I spit that last part in his direction and I'm positive my face displays his future death if that isn’t carried out.

“Fine.”

He reluctantly agrees, only I'm not done yet.

“Oh yes! Cannot forget the most important part of my visit.”

His brows crease as I stand up from my spot at the table and walk around to him. “Why do you think I am the way that I am, Mr. Garbara?”

He eyes me up and down, his disgust transparent, then shrugs.

My blade comes down and stabs the hand he had resting on the table, until she meets to wood. He cries out, and I can't contain my smile.

Lola, bless her, will definitely need sharpened after this escapade.

“Because sick bastards like you, create fucked up monsters like me.”

Confusion doesn't last long before his eyes widen with understanding.

“The shit you’ve been getting into with trafficking is dead. If I even hear so much as a whisper of your name, where children are concerned, I'll burn your house down with you in it and eat the fucking ashes.”

He wails once more when I rip Lola from his appendage. Not missing a beat, I step behind his chair, gripping his hair and snapping his head back to look at me. “Say you understand.”

“I understand.”

“Excellent.” I clap.

Ripping open the pantry door, I pull out his daughter, bound and gagged. She's blood covered because the fifth man I killed was in there with her. I had to put him somewhere and there wasn’t any room for him at the table.

“You two clean this up, yeah?”

Patting her cheek, I dismiss myself.

When the cool night air brushes my face, I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

I miss Blithe so much my heart aches. I miss Cami so much too, but I try not to dwell on that for too long or I'll lose my mind.

Literally.

I’m bone tired, but I still have one more stop to make before I head home for the night.