Page 47 of Soros
“I was trying to help.” Ko’roz stared down the boss and it was clear that the men weren’t friends.
Breaking the staring contest with Ko’roz, the boss asked his minion, “Did you search them?”
“Not yet. I took them straight to you. Thought you wanted to see the quality of the stock.”
The boss gestured in our direction. “Just make sure they’re clean.”
“This one had a communication device on her wrist, but I got rid of it.” Ko’roz gestured to me.
“Good.”
The man with the vest searched Star first by tapping her body as if looking for weapons. Taking her bags, he emptied them onto the couch. “It’s just clothes.”
Moving on to me, he tapped my body as well. “Clean.” Taking my bag, he once again emptied it out on the couch. Lip balm, Kleenex, hair pins, keys, and my wallet fell out along with my phone.
Picking up the phone, the man with the vest stared at it and then he accused Ko’roz. “You said they were clean.”
Ko’roz narrowed his eyes, glaring at the phone. “I got rid of the wristband.”
The boss, pushed between Ko’roz and me and took the phone. Holding it up in front of Ko’roz, he tore into my mentor and friend.
“Everyone knows a smartwatch is always linked to a phone. Now they can track her, you stupid cunt.”
“Don’t call me stupid,” Ko’roz warned, but the boss went crazy and threw around F bombs while shouting into Ko’roz’s face so aggressively that spit landed on his cheek.
Star moved closer to me, timid and afraid, but I should have known that Ko’roz was too great of a man to stand for any of that kind of disrespectful behavior.
“Stop!” Ko’roz said with authority, and it made the boss close his mouth mid-sentence. His face was pink from the tantrum he was throwing. “Nobody talks to me that way. Get on your knees and apologize.”
I watched as the biker boss fell to his knees and profusely apologized. His minion tried to get him to stand back up, but Ko’roz pushed him away. Raising his left foot, Ko’roz stared intently at the boss, who was on his knees. “Lick my soles.”
Suddenly, with Ko’roz focusing on the biker boss with the snake tattoo, it was as if I saw Ko’roz in a different light and remembered things about him that weren’t flattering. He had killed Ziba and Keindra. Ko’roz wasn’t a nice man. He was Malbreean. My brain felt fuzzy and watching the bizarre sight of the boss licking the soles of Ko’roz shoes upset me. I had always been a bit of a germophobe, and it disgusted me to see the man’s tongue connecting to the rubber that I knew had walked the streets of Manhattan.
Star was already clinging to my arm and when Ko’roz kicked the boss in his head, Star hid her face against my shoulder.
The boss was roaring in pain and held his hands to his face. “You broke my nose.”
“Did I?” Once again, Ko’roz kicked the boss hard on the side of his head. The man was already on his knees bent forward, but the hard kick knocked him over. “Apologize, again!”
Moaning and crying, the boss tried to get up and when his minion attempted to help him, Ko’roz talked to him. “Don’t you want to help me punish him for showing me disrespect?”
The minion looked confused at first but gave a tiny nod. After stomping hard on the biker boss’s leg, Ko’roz had to shout to overpower his screams of pain. “Help me by punishing him harder than you’ve ever punished anyone,” he told the man with the vest.
Stepping back, the biker moved like a soccer player getting ready to kick a ball as far as possible. Only he aimed at his boss’s mid-section. The sound of ribs cracking and the man’s extreme howls of agony made me close my eyes. I wanted to escape so badly and forced my body to back toward the door with Star clinging to me.
We were inside the storage room and halfway up the stairs when the screams and cries stopped. I concluded that the boss had either died or lost consciousness from the brutal attack. And yet sounds of kicking and hitting continued. Ko’roz’s and the minion’s display of psychopathic violence disgusted me, and I was a nervous wreck determined to get Star and me out of there.
“He mind clouded us,” I told Star, who gave a sound of agreement in a high-pitched tone.
“I’m scared.”
“Me too,” I admitted.
With a frantic pace, my hands searched for a way to open the mural at the top of the stairs. My heart hammered in my chest and when the panel finally opened, the slowness of the sliding painting killed me. I tried to push through but that only made the panel get stuck. Frustrated, I used all my strength to try and move the mural enough that we could get out.
“Go!” I held it open enough for Star to get out.
“Hurry!” she told me when it was my turn. My strength was running out and the heavy panel was pressing on my lungs when I tried to squeeze through.
