Page 23 of Wraith

Chapter Twenty-Two

“You wanted to see me, sir?”I stand in Roman’s doorway hands behind my back, eyes pinned straight forward, until toldotherwise.

“Yes, Esteban. Come in,” he says keeping his nose still buried in the paper he is looking over. “I have heard great things,” he says glancing up from the paper to regard me. “You have made quite the reputation for yourself. Come a long way from cleaning up shit and piss from the floor of the basement, no?” I give a one wordanswer.

“Yes.”

“Yes,” he echoes, sending a long, drawn-out smile my way. “You are showing promise, my boy. And for that, I have a gift for you.” His hand gestures to the crumbled ball in the corner of his office. After three years, I still try to pretend I don’t see it. Her hair has gotten longer now, rattier, and unclean. As have her clothes, tatters of fabric barely covering her dirt covered—skin and bones—body.

“Agift?”

“Yes.” Roman grins and rises from the chair with a heft. Over the years he has gotten softer around the middle, rounder. “She is a loose end I decided not to tie. All yours to do with as you wish,” he says with a smile making me inwardlygrimace.

“What would I do withher?”

“Whatever you want. Have her do your laundry, cook your dinner. Hell, fuck her for all I care. She is your responsibility from now on.” He then reaches down and grabs a handful of the girl’s hair and pulls her whimpering form to her feet. Her hair is a matted mess and I can see the remnants of what may once have been blood on herclothes.

“How old is she?” I ask, looking from her back to him. I can tell he is getting annoyed with my hesitance, his eye twitches giving himaway.

“Who the fuck cares. Just take her out of here she is starting to stink,” he barks shoving her my way. She lands with a smack to my chest nearly falling to the floor once again but I stop her from doing so. Without another word Roman goes back to whatever it was he was doing when I camein.

I turn to leave with the girl in tow. I have no idea what to do with her so I take her to the only place I can think of—the basement, my old cell. Without a word, I shove her inside and close the door behind me. The clicking of the lock echoes deep within my black heart, making it beat at a slow pace. I stand there for several minutes, hours maybe, until I find myself pushing away from the door and going outside to the training area. I need to work out some frustration and knocking together some skulls willhelp.

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