Page 14 of His Puppet

I bite my lip and look down. There’s a flight of stairs that lead to what I can only assume is ‘the bunker’, but that’s all I can see. I can’t even make out the end of the steps.

“It’s dark.”

“There’s a string for a light in the middle of the room. Pull it.”

“Blade, please.” I turn to him and let my first tear slip. Any more and I’ll unravel. “I can’t be a whore. Ican’t. I can be useful in other ways.”

“Do I have to push you?”

Another tear slips from my eyes, and a sob crawls up my throat. I cover a hand over my mouth and try to hold it in.

Blade sighs. “We’ll talk about all this tomorrow, Emily… Now, go,” he repeats, gently this time.

I can feel my emotions bubbling up, and the last thing I want is for him to see it, so I plant my foot on the first step and slowly descend the stairs. A copper taste coats my tongue when my teeth clamp onto my bottom lip. I walk blindly with my hands out on what feels and smells like dirt until I find the cord he told me about.

Light illuminates the little space, and the metal door above clangs shut a moment later. I take in my prison, and it takes all of maybe three seconds. There’s a pail, a cot, and a single lightbulb above my head with a wooden roof above it. That’s it.

I walk to the cot, fall, wrap my arms around my knees, and do what I longed to ever since I stole the fanny pack. I cry. More like wail. I let my past haunt me, I let myself compare it to the present, and I spend a good amount of time feeling sorry for myself.

After some time, and by ‘some time’ I mean a long time, my tears dry. My jaw tightens, and I stare at the ground and work on coming up with a plan.

I was a fighter then, and I’ll be a fighter now.

6

Blade

The elevator pings, and I step into the basement of Lorenzo Gruco’s casino. I was told by Settimo’s secretary that this was where he would be, and it’s just as well. I need to talk with Lorenzo, anyway.

I check Lorenzo’s office, but neither are there, so I head for the lion's den. I know, it sounds strange. Lorenzo has a tiger show that runs every weekend, and he’s a bit obsessed with it. He keeps his three tigers and a lion in a den forty feet down from a concrete enclosure. There’s a railing around the top of the circular den that’s the only thing keeping a person from plunging to the animals below.

Sometimes he’s there because he likes watching them, and other times he’s there because he likes throwing people over the edge. It isn’t a mystery why he and Victor get along. If Victor wasn’t so volatile, he’d probably be a capo by now.

I push open the metal door to the enclosure and spot Settimo, Lorenzo, and a soldier named Joe near the railing. Settimo stands back, his hands in his pockets and his posture relaxed. Joe stands—rigid as always—off to the side, and Lorenzo is leaned over the edge watching below. He glances up, meets my eyes, then goes back to watching.

“Blade,” Settimo says, a smile coming over his face. “I was hoping you’d show up here. You won’t believe what I scored this morning.”

“Jesus Christ, not this again,” Lorenzo mutters, never looking up.

“Sixty-nine.” Settimo laughs, and I lift my lips to match his grin. He’s talking about his golf game. He’s pretty great, and not shy about admitting it. We play together on occasion, but it’s mostly poker that we share an interest in. Settimo is the don, but he’s been my friend since I was seventeen. Around the time I got my nickname.

“Damn.” I come up to stand in front of him. “Anyone around to witness it?”

“Just my damn caddy. The kid got a nice chuckle out of it, though.” Settimo smirks. “You free Thursday morning? You should hit the course with me.”

I shrug. “I don’t know, maybe. Things have been unpredictable this week.”

His face freezes like he just remembered my men’s fuck up, and he slowly nods. “Right. Lorenzo told me you found that girl, and apparently, she’s ripe for picking.”

“I’m assuming Victor filled you in?” I ask, turning my head to look at Lorenzo.

He looks over his shoulder. “About the time he brought my pets’ breakfast, yeah.”

I walk to the ledge and peer down. They’re mostly finished picking apart a carcass. Only one tiger is at the dismembered body, while another chews on a bone off to the side. The other tiger and the lion are both laying down.

“Hester and Tommy?” I ask.

“Mmmhmm.”

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