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I try to decide on the best course of action. Do I admit that’s why I’m here? Or do I act like I want nothing? Neil isn’t unintelligent, so he’d probably sense it if I lie to him. Deciding on the less personal option, I say, “I don’t care about her. I just want my money back.” It’s not a complete lie, I actually want my fucking money.
“Hmm, is that so… You know I’m not just going to hand it over to you.” Neil rubs his chin with his free hand. “And what about Baby? What does she think about you being down here?”
Shooting him a scathing look, I say, “Don’t talk about her like that.” Then I stand up and walk over to the washing machine, grab the toothbrush and paste and shove it into his hand. “I imagine you want to brush your teeth,” I spit through clenched teeth.
“Trouble in paradise?” Neil’s chuckle grinds on me, and I have difficulty keeping my temper in check. He doesn’t deserve to even talk or think about Baby.
On the inside, anger is swirling around my body, and I have to clench my hands and grind my teeth together to not snap at the pathetic man. I breathe deeply until I feel in control enough to say, “Not exactly, but she isn’t who I thought she was.”
There, that’s nothing but the truth. I didn’t know this side of her existed, the one that’s desperate for revenge for Mark’s death. It’s not enough to cause trouble between us because I get it. But since he doesn’t need to know that, I’m happy to pretend it’s an issue.
Neil takes his sweet time brushing his not-so-pearly whites. After such a long time of not being able to do so, it must feel almost heavenly to have that fresh and minty taste back.
“If you free me, I’ll give you back every cent.”
Laughing, I ask, “Is that all your freedom is worth to you? One hundred and seventy thousand measly dollars? I have to say, that disappoints me. I thought you’d value your freedom a lot more.”
Rather than arguing there wasn’t that much money in my account, it takes me by surprise when Neil looks shocked. “Wait, we can negotiate. Come on, boy.”
Huh? How can he not know how much he stole from me?
I shake my head and gather up the old and dirty sleeping bag, rags that barely resemble clothes, and everything I brought down here. I don’t bother to do anything but throw it outside the open window before closing it. I’ll have to get that later and figure out what we’re doing with it.
Before making it look like I’m reactivating the spy cam, I say, “I’m not one of your goonies. Money will probably never be enough for me. But if it were, I can guarantee you I’d want a lot more.”
Just as I’m about to push the small black button that does nothing when he says, “Wait!” I halt my movement and look at him expectantly. “What am I going to say when they ask about the stuff you brought me?”
I finally let myself smile and say, “You better figure something out, because I’ll have to take it away again if you can’t.” Then a thought hits me. If the others really didn’t know I was down here, I would have to hide the niceties behind something cruel to make it seem like a trait. “What would you think is a fitting payment for what I’ve done for you tonight?” I ask in a serious tone.
“P-payment?” Neil stumbles over the word, and his eyes bulge.
Schooling my features, I try to look saddened that we’re even discussing this. “Nothing in this world is free, you know that better than anyone. I can’t exactly leave you unharmed, so what do you think your pound of flesh should be?”
Neil gulps in front of me, and I watch his Adam’s apple move with each swallow.
“You don’t have to pay anything if you don’t want me to come down here again,” I say. “But if you do, then it needs to look like you earned your shower, food, and all the things I’ve given you. So tell me, what do you think would be considered a fair trade?”
If I wasn’t watching it happen, I would have thought it impossible for Neil to look worse. However, his face morphs into a desperate expression, and his color becomes eerily white.
While a part of me wants to lash out and make him pay, I have a better idea, and I pick up a small scalpel-looking knife. “Cut off some of your ear,” I say in a tone that would be normal if I’d asked him to do something less twisted. “I don’t want to accidentally hurt you more than I have to, so it’s better you do it,” I add in a reassuring tone.
Neil eyes the small knife I’m pushing into his hand with suspicion, and his eyes flicker between my face and the weapon. “I could just use this on you and get myself out of here,” he says nervously.
This makes me laugh. “You could,” I agree. “But do you think you can take CJ and Kas with it as well? You better be sure before you attack me.”
I move closer and place my hands behind my head in a taunting posture. Even though I don’t feel as confident as I want him to think I am, I’m not scared he’s going to attack me. He’s too smart for that.
After ten seconds of neither of us moving, I smirk at him and ask, “Do you want something to bite down on?”
It’s easy to see how much it pains him to nod. Acting the role of caring, I pull out some clean socks from the dryer. Before handing them to him, I roll them up before shoving them into his mouth.
“Will this guarantee my freedom?” Neil asks in an uncharacteristically hopeful tone.
Shaking my head, I tap one finger on his hand that’s still clutching the scalpel so hard his knuckles have turned white.
“Get on with it,” I instruct and move back so I can lean against the wall.
Do I feel bad watching Neil mutilating his own ear? To my surprise, the answer is no. Each muffled scream and pained grunt make something inside me swell, and all I can think is that this must be what justice feels like.
