Page 36 of Fortress of the King

He’s about to answer when the dude, I don’t even care to know his name, begins to rouse. He’s gagged, of course, no need for them to speak until necessary.

“Ahh,” Rocco says, giving him a few slaps to his face to help him come round. “Here he is.”

The guy’s eyes widen with alarm when he sees me. He knows who I am, at least.

I crouch down, staying far enough away, so I don’t have to touch his slimy ass. Filth like this, you can never entirely scrub from your skin. My anger and blood boil at what he’s been doing.

I think of the sweet young women in my family, and I know tonight he will die.

“My friend here tells me you’ve been doing some bad shit,” I say. “What’s worse is you did it on my turf.”

He tries to struggle, I don’t know why, especially since Rocco was in the military when he was younger so he knows how to tie a knot.

“So, this is a dilemma. My buddy says you’ve given me another name, a pimp like you, except that’s not who we want. We want a fuckingrealname. So, I’ll make this really simple. Other than Rombaldi, who’s recruiting these girls? Where else are they being sold to? Tell me now, and I might let you keep your dick.”

I reach behind me and pull out my leather gloves and peel them on. Then I flick the small but lethal blade on the side table near me out from its cover. It looks anything but ruthless.

I nod to Rocco, and he pulls the gag down to let him speak.

Instead, he spits, it lands a little damn too close to my three-thousand-dollar pair of shoes.

“Gotta be someone worth protecting,” I say, my eyes meeting his. “Well, I can’t say I didn’t warn you. Do you know there are ways to make a man bleed out for days before he truly dies?” I should know I learned from the best, my own father.

“I told you…” he gasps, still trying to struggle free. “I’m independent. I don’t know where they’re being snatched from or where they go. The girls I had working for me were all of legal age.”

I laugh coldly. “Right. Aren’t you just pimp of the year?”

I look up to Rocco. “Board.”

He flashes me a curt smile and walks toward the table of devices I sometimes like to use.

“I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this,” I say sagely. “But I’ve entertained a hot piece of ass tonight and frankly I’m beat. Hence, why I need to speed this up a bit and get out of here.”

Rocco brings the small wooden table over with the strap and proceeds to release fuckface’s hands, keeping one tied behind him to the chair.

“I gave you a name…” he cries as Rocco spreads his hand flat and straps his wrist down.

“The name of another rival pimp ain’t shit,” I reply. “And, like I said, I’ve got more important shit to do tonight, so…” I stand. “It’s a pity, they are such pretty fingers…”

Before he can blink, I bring the knife down on his pinkie finger and slice it off, well, part of it.

There’s no fun just leaving him a stump.

He howls and spits and squirms as blood flies everywhere. Lucky for me, I step to the side so I don’t get coated by it.

“You pricks think you’re so fucking smart, don’t you?” I sneer as I walk behind him. “I despise cunts like you, it makes me fucking sick. I saw the pictures of what you sick bastards make those girls do. Let me tell you, fuckface, I’ll take every single fucking finger off your hand, piece by piece, bit by bit, until I get what I want. Got me? I can draw this out, or you can piss yourself all night until I’ve got a collection of your fingers. The choice is yours.”

He trembles and stutters and shakes as I move back around, and, fuck it, I slice the rest of his finger off below the knuckle as he howls in agony.

I’m not in a good mood anymore. I’m also extremely frustrated.

“Sen...Senator...fuck....Senator Mendes…” he screams as I dodge his spit.

Rocco and I look at one another. Well, I’ll be fucking damned.

“You sure about that?” Squeaky clean-cut Mendes, eh, there’s a turnout for the books. Nothing shocks me anymore, however. “Didn’t he recently run a campaign to fight for women’s rights in the workplace?” I ask, scratching the back of my head at the irony.

Rocco shrugs. “I don’t fucking know, man, but this ain’t good.”

---