Page 43 of Ricochet

The fuck was wrong with me? Two days ago, I’d wanted to tear the woman apart, and suddenly all I could think about was hiking up that dress and burying my dick inside her panty-less ass.

With the heel of my palm, I knocked my temple. “Get her out of your head,” I muttered, rounding the last flight of stairs. I had to focus. I had a job to do. The last thing I needed was images of her tight body and firm breasts jockeying for my attention.

Faint, almost ghostly screams echoed down the hall, as I trudged through water stagnant enough to leave a putrid sting in my nose. I followed the sounds that, to any other trespasser, might’ve been mistaken for the horrific cries of a ghost.

In time, he would be.

Brown and black stains coated the tunnel walls. The brick had been chipped away, crumbled in some parts, not only with age, but from scrappers who’d cased the place for all the copper.

Light bled beneath a door from inside, where I’d placed a lantern two nights before, when I’d imprisoned Julius after abducting him. As I reached there, muffled screams came into sharp clarity. The raspy quality of his voice told me the asshole must’ve screamed for two days straight.

In the center of the room, Julius sat blindfolded and strapped to a chair. “Who’s there? Please! Someone help me!” At his ankles, large wounds glistened where rats had obviously chewed. Fuckin’ room stank like shit, and I choked back the urge to upchuck right there on the floor. “Man, if that’s you. Please. I’m … I’m sorry … for what I did to that little girl.”

Those images, as much as I wanted to forget them, gave me the fuel I craved. The motivation to do what needed to be done.

According to Rev, word on the street was that Julius’s big brother Brandon had put out a manhunt for him. He wanted any information on the masked vigilante, as I’d been referred to in the news.

“I’ll do anything … you want. Anything, please.” His shoulders juddered with a sob. “Just get me the fuck out of here! Please! There’s voices at night, man! And fucking rats!” His skin had grown pale, mottled, as if he’d become sick from his wounds.

“I understand there’s an abandoned factory somewhere in the city where women and kids are housed before getting distributed to various pimps.” Arms crossed behind my back, I circled him, sloshing the shallow water pooled on the floor. “Is that true?”

“I …” He gulped a swallow. “I don’t know anything about that.”

“It’s my understanding that they’re drugged. Raped. Beaten. Tortured. Kept in cages. Like animals.”

His tongue swept over his lips, and he trembled as if he might cry again. “The girls we get are … they’re kept at motels. Not abandoned buildings.”

“According to your criminal records, you lured the girls to this abandoned shithole. Sweet talked them.” Julius had a reputation of being a sweet talker. “I’m just giving you a taste of how it feels to be taken out of your element. Scared shitless. Willing to do whatever it takes to get free.” I came to a halt in front of him. “Are you willing to do whatever it takes to be free?”

“Yes, yes, man. You want me to suck you off? I’ll do it. I don’t give a shit. Let me go, and I won’t tell a single mothafucka what happened here.”

“I don’t want you to suck me off, Julius. I want you to help me with something.”

“Anything!”

“So eager.” I smiled at his pathetic stupidity. “No wonder you don’t feel guilty raping little girls. I almost don’t feel guilty for what I’m about to do, either.”

His blindfolded face lifted, vacillating back and forth as he seemed to search the air for me. “What do you want from me, man?”

“I was sent by Culling to kill you,” I lied. “Your little crew is getting far too powerful, and he wants to take you down. Unfortunately, Culling has too many connections for me to take on by myself.” I crouched in front of him, and my nose crinkled at the stench of piss emanating from his body. “See, I don’t want to kill you, Julius. I think, deep down, you want to be good, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I don’t … I want out. I don’t want to do this shit anymore.”

“Okay. Here’s what we can do. We need to get the FBI on our side. Culling’s too powerful to take down alone. They need to know what’s going down. So, I’m going to send a message to a contact I have. I think he can help, but he needs some evidence. Otherwise, I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you here to die. Because I just can’t bring myself to kill you. You understand?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He shifted in his chair. He must’ve been delirious from lack of food and water if he bought that bullshit. “I’ll do it.”

“Good. I’m going to start the camera, and I want you to tell me everything. Your name, your crew, and how Culling is involved.”

His lip quivered, head nodding frantically. “You’ll set me free?”

“Of course. I’ll have what I need against Culling. And, I promise, I’ll set you free.”

I flipped on the phone’s camera and pressed record, careful not to say a word. After a ten second pause, Julius began talking. In the ten minutes that followed, he confessed to the abductions, the drug deals, The Culling sweeps, and Culling’s own personal stake in the operation. All the missing pieces I couldn’t have garnered, not even on the deep net, came spilling out of his mouth.

Until, at last, he finished.

“Thank you, Julius.” I stuffed the small phone into a plastic bag, then into my pocket, and removed his blindfold, allowing him the opportunity to adjust to the light.