Page 6 of The Seller

I have to concentrate. My home is on a mountain overlooking the island, and the roads up here are narrow and windy with sheer drops on the sides. It is early morning now, around six, and if I get her down to the port before the first ferry to the mainland sails, then I can start cleaning up this absolute mess.

When I fail to respond, Siri falls silent, and stays that way. The sun is breaking over the ocean in the distance, and at this time of day the views are nothing short of transcendent. Before we reach the bustle of the port and the busy town, we have a few moments where time stops and everything is as it has been for thousand of years.

“Wow,” she murmurs under her breath. “This is beautiful.” She turns to me. “And I have you, my handsome regretful kidnapper to thank for it.”

I shoot her a look. The attitude is something I don’t enjoy. It makes me want to whip her shapely ass, and the fact that I can’t makes me tense. Girls like this, smart, pretty ones, they’re always spoiled. If not by their parents, then by life. They get away with everything. She wouldn’t get away with a damn thing if I was keeping her, but dammit, it’s not worth the risk.

I take the hair pin bends of the road at reasonable speed. I usually like to blast up and down this part of it, but I have to think. If she is law enforcement, or somehow otherwise connected, I may have to move. This could be one of the last times I get to enjoy the view, the rugged outcroppings of rock jutting out into forever.

“So how much is it to be kidnapped?”

“What?”

“I said, how much is it to wake up in your basement and be told that your life is over? Are we talking Toyota money, or Maserati money?”

I’m not going to answer that question. It doesn’t have an answer, of course, and she damn well knows it. Why can’t she just play along? She’s getting luckier than she could ever imagine. By this stage, most girls are begging for the light of day, and here she is, taking it entirely for granted.

I should stop, strip her down, make her walk beside the car. I should deprive her of every privilege she doesn’t even know she has. This girl makes me think dark, dirty thoughts. The kind that would usually be oh so perfect for a situation like this, but with her, I have to restrain them. I can sense the danger on her. It’s in every glance she makes at me, the way her eyes flash with amusement that shouldn’t be there.

Nothing about this is funny. This is life and death. Mine. Or Hers.

I knew this would happen one day.

I knew I’d fuck up.

It was inevitable. Nobody gets away with everything forever. Sooner or later, consequences find people. Sometimes it’s the law, sometimes it’s another criminal, but in the end, nobody lives this lifestyle and dies an old man.

I know all of this has an inevitable end. I just don’t want that end to be today.

I am running on instinct now, doing my best to stay away from the abyss of hell that has been crumbling ever closer to my feet since this all started, and the first girl I sold went from being a person to a piece of owned meat.

Is it paranoia sneaking up on me? Am I losing my edge? I don’t know, and it’s not as if I can consult a therapist to ask. They tend to frown on my chosen profession.

This girl has shaken me, and I don’t like what’s come loose. I can feel my palms sweating against the steering wheel. I can’t get this over with quick enough. I’m eager to get into town, down to the dock. I’ll buy her a ticket and send her on her way.

It occurs to me she might not make that easy. Do I really want to deliver her directly to a location with a police station if I think she has law enforcement connections? Hell no. We’re not too far from town now. It is close enough for her to get herself there. Far enough away for me to get back home, fire up the helicopter, and get off the island for a while until the heat - if there is any, dies down.

I stop the car, get out, and walk around to her door, opening it into the countryside. “Get out.”

“What?”

“Get out,” I say. “Sami is about ten minutes walk down this road. I’ll give you cash for plane or ferry.”

“You’re not even going to take me back into town? You’re going to make me do the walk of shame?”

“That’s for people who got laid. You didn’t. Go. Now.” I put some bass into my voice. I can sound threatening when I want to, and usually it gets an immediate response.

She doesn’t get out. She just sits there. Goddamnit. I don’t want to get rough with her. I definitely don’t want to leave marks.

“Get out, or I’ll drag you out.”

“I’ve got a better idea,” she says, her lips spreading in a smile. “Why don’t you call the police and they can make me get out.”

I narrow my eyes at her. I am a very patient man, but she is trying me. She has no idea what happens to most women, how they would give anything for the chance she’s been given, but instead of running away like she damn well should, she’s staying put. I have to escalate the pressure. I have to show her a sliver of the monster inside.

“Out now,” I say. “Before this gets painful.”

“Eh, it can get painful,” she shrugs.

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