Page 96 of His Puppet

I pull on the black T-shirt that hangs to my knees and dart my eyes to the door at the top of the stairs.

“Relax,” Victor says again, this time dragging the word out. “Herbert the Pervert is being taken care of by your boy as we speak. Our job is to wait down here until I get the call saying all the outside security is taken care of. Then we’ll get you the hell out of here.”

He gestures to the lone window at the top of the wall above my bed. The plexiglass has been removed, along with the bars.

I’m free.

I’m fucking free.

Almost.

“Blade is herenow? Gordon said he was arrested.”

Victor casually strolls the room, his hands in his pockets while he inspects my prison. “They let him go.”

“H-how?” I ask, moving toward Victor. How the fuck he manages to keep so calm and avoid any amount of seriousness right now is beyond me.

He glances at me and shrugs. “I just do what I’m told.”

I freeze. “Blade wouldn’t have sent you here. He would’ve come himself. Or sent someone else.”

“Yeah, he was really looking forward to themurdering your unclepart, though.” Victor looks up from my dresser. “And if I’m being honest, I volunteered to come get you.”

“Why?”

He raises a brow. “Because I like you. Duh.”

He walks to the bed and sits down, and even though it turns my stomach to get close to the bed, I follow and sit down next to him.

“I’m glad you’re here,” I say, staring at the ceiling and wondering what’s happening up there.

I can feel his stare, so I turn his way.

“You all right?” he asks.

I consider nodding but stop myself. No, I’m not all right. But I will be… Soon.

“What do you think Blade’s doing to him?” I ask, going back to staring at the ceiling. “Do you think Gordon is in a lot of pain?”

“I went in first, so I’m not sure if they’ve made it inside yet. They were taking care of the outside first… But yeah, my guess is they’re going to be a while.”

My lips lift, and I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

“I brought a machete just in case.” Victor chuckles. “Figured I’d give Blade a couple pointers on how it’s done. He wasnotreceptive.”

I laugh and run my hands over my face, picturing all the ways Gordon will suffer for what he’s done to me, but no matter what I picture, it isn’t enough. It never could be. And the mental image will never be sufficient.

“I want to do it myself,” I say, realizing it’s what I need after the words are out of my mouth. I stand from the bed and start toward the stairs, my shoulders straight.

Victor stands and calls to my back. “I don’t think that’s a good—”

“Does it sound like this is up for debate?” I ask, looking at him over my shoulder.

“I’m just saying, I don’t know if—”

“Victor.”

He closes his mouth.

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