Page 236 of Heartless Legacy

Lazarro keeps saying he’s a businessman, and I’m assuming the guards aren’t allowed to shoot the merchandise. When I clear the doorway, I spin, grabbing the edge of it, and swing it into his face as hard as I can. Scurrying past him to get back inside, I look left and right, searching for the stairs. I find them and rush to the third floor where I saw the cameras.

This time, I don’t bother trying to sneak around. Another set of guards are waiting for me near the first set of cubicles. They drag me into the conference room, where Lazarro scowls at me from his end of the table. “How does she keep gettin out?” He asks the guard on my right.

There’s a garbled noise on the other end of the radio, then static. He tells another guard. “The guard in the perch over at the detention center is giving me dead air. Go make sure he has a fresh battery.”

To me, he says, “You don’t seem committed to our agreement, so I think I’ll give my earlier buyers what they want. You can sit here and watch as they break your little friend in real time.”

The screen on the wall behind him comes on, bringing up an image of the doctor’s chair. Another camera feed is brought online, playing right next to the first one. The cage the camera zooms in on is empty. Lazarro snatches up his radio and growls, “Where’s lot thirty-two?”

It sickens me that he’s just given them numbers. “Sir, she should be in containment after her latest session.”

“I’m looking at the feed and she’s not there.” Bolting to his feet, Lazarro walks to the door and asks, “Who won the last bid for lot thirty-two?”

The response comes from someone sitting at one of the cubicles. “The same person who won the first one. He’s maintained the highest bid the whole time, sir.”

“That’s impossible. He can’t have that much money.”

I wave at the screen when he turns back to me, and say, “There’s an empty cage where I’m assuming my friend should be. I am here performing in good faith. You said there are no rules, which means my escape attempts are well within the guideline of the gauntlet and whatever hunger game shit is going on in the other building. If anything, it sounds like you’re the one in breach of our deal, so I guess that means all bets are off.”

Lazarro takes a step towards me. “Nothing’s off. I’m going to wring every dollar I can out of you. Even if that means strapping you to this table myself, and letting every guard I have use you as a punching bag or a whore.”

I tell him, “I honored our deal, and followed your rules to the letter. I didn’t call the cops or tell The League. I ditched my phone and showed up. I gave you forty-eight hours.” Staring at the clock on the wall, I say, “Time’s up.”

“Sir! Sir! We’re under attack.” Comes a frantic yell through his radio. A window smashes and a metal ting rings out, seconds before a grenade explodes near the cubicles.

Lazarro runs through the door, while everyone else stands around in shock as gun fire erupts on the other side of the hall. I shove against the body on my right and chase after him. He’s gone by the time I make it to the end of the hall.

Terrance walks up to me, wincing as he turns my head side to side and asks, “You okay?”

Slapping his hand aways, I say, “I’m fine, but Lazarro’s on the run.”

He nods and says, “Of course he is. That’s what fuckers like him do at the first sign of trouble. Run and leave everyone else behind. We’ve cleared the detention center and the first building here so far.”

Scanning the floor, looking at the employees trying to run, I ask, “How much more ground do we need to cover?”

“Two more buildings.”

Hobbling down the hall, I say, “Let’s go.”

I have to tell Terrance repeatedly to focus on the mission, and not me, as we make our way to the next building. This one is also full of people in cages.

We clear the floors room by room. I’m at the far side of the hall when I hear grunts coming from the room directly in front of me. Peeking through the door, I see a back decked out in tattoos. The person sporting the ink is spread wide on a St. Andrew’s cross.

A woman stands in front of him, holding a whip. It hisses as she snaps it; the tip cracking against his skin. She says, “Iwas hoping this time I’d get to reward you, but you’ve been a very, very bad boy and deserve to be punished. Your choice is a hundred lashes or none at all. All you have to do is say the words. Say it.”

When he doesn’t speak, she whips him again. “Say it. That’s the only way to end this punishment. Say you hate her.” Swoosh, crack. “Say that you never loved her.” Swoosh, crack. “Tell me you hope she dies in the gauntlet.”

Pushing the door open a little further, I see recording equipment pointed at them. Someone hums at her feet, drawing my attention to the person on the floor between his legs. I shove the door open the rest of the way, letting it bang off the wall. The woman with the whip takes a step away from him with a startled yelp. I ignore her, going straight for the woman on her knees.

Grabbing her hair, I yank her away from him. “Who. The Fuck. Do you think. You. Are?” I backhand her, sending her falling to the floor. Fisting her hair to hold her steady, I smack her again and again. “How. Dare. You. Touch. Him.”

Her tears, snot and blood, coat my hand. I slam her head into the floor and release my grip, then spin around to face the woman holding the whip. She’s making a run for the door. “Oh, no, you fucking don’t.”

Ignoring the pain in my body and the fact that the adrenaline is wearing off, I grab her by the back of her robe. I reach for the whip. We struggle for it as she also tries to shake the robe off. I let her keep the handle, taking hold of the cracker and thong, wrapping the length between them around her neck twice, and drag her back to the center of the room. I’m even more enraged now that I can see his face, and the cuts and whip marks on his body.

“Did you do this? Did you try to destroy his artwork?”

She wheezes and gasps, clawing at my hands. “Who the fuck do you think you are to punish him? To touch him? To mar him?” I tighten my hold on both ends of the leather, pulling taut.

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