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“Why would someone send this to me?”
“I d-don’t know. But Rainer will clear it up, I’m sure of it.”
Just then, there was a knock at the door. It was her Daddy, coming to set things straight.
But when she opened the door, it wasn’t Rainer. No. It was fate.
*
The votes didn’t take long to come in. Tati manned the booths and ensured everything was above board. The votes were counted and re-counted.
In the end, it was close. Almost too close to call.
“63 votes to 56,” Wolf said with a grin on his face as he poured another drink for Rainer. “You beat that fucker by just seven votes!”
Rainer was in a state of shock. As he sat at the table, trying to understand the fact that, by some strange twist of fate — yes, fate — he was now the president of an organization he loved with all his heart, it felt like the world was spinning.
Club members, whether they’d supported him or Dog, were coming up to him and shaking his hand, wishing him well for the future. He could barely keep track of it all.
It was after a full hour of celebration that Dog came up to him.
“Congratulations,” he said, with a grim look on his face. “It’s a terrible day for the club.”
“Never took you for a sore loser,” Rainer replied.
“I’m afraid to say that you’re the one who’s gonna lose big today. You and the rest of the Drifters.”
Then, for the last time, he shrugged off his cut, and dropped it to the ground. “Hope yourLittlewas worth it.” There was something almost malevolent in the way he said it. Something that made Rainer’s gut churn. “Have a nice life,” Dog said as he walked out of the bar.
“Well, fuck him,” Wolf said, grinning. “Another drink?”
“Nah. I need to go check on Esme. Something’s not right. I can feel it.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Ashedrovebackacross the city, nightmare scenarios played out in his mind. Esme and Sophia, shot dead on the ground, blood pooling around them. He also had visions of arriving to find the door open, and no-one home.
“It’s probably fine. They’re probably just fine,” he told himself over and over again as he neared his address.
When he arrived at the house, what greeted him was a shock.
The door wasn’t open. It was firmly locked. But when he pushed it open, he didn’t hear the peals of laughter and fun that he’d been hoping to hear. Instead, there was silence. He took a few more steps inside. “Esme? Sophia?!”
Wolf should be here with him. If his Little was hurt, there would be hell to pay.
He passed by the door to the kitchen and the spare room, but as he approached the lounge door, Rainer heard a vague muffled sound. He didn’t have a gun, but he prepared himself for whatever he was about to see.
He kicked open the door and burst in, ready to grab or be grabbed. But there was no need.
“Sophia!” He cried out in shock. She was surrounded by the eviscerated remains of stuffies. There was the skin of teddy bears, horses, and the decapitated head of what was once Om Baby. There was stuffing strewn around, too — a mix of fluffy white fabric, and other, older materials. Maybe even some straw from the very oldest toys.
In the center of it, Sophia sat in one of his chairs, her cheeks streaked with tears. There was a filthy gag in her mouth, and her hands had been taped together with duct-tape. Between them was a walkie-talkie.
Rainer sprung into action, leaping forward and grabbing the gag from between her teeth.
“Rainer,” she sobbed. “He’s got Esme. I’m sorry, I tried to stop him. But he had a gun.”
“No, Sophia, it’s not your fault. I’m glad you’re safe.” Inside, his world was turning upside down. It felt like his heart was about to fall out, like his guts were seizing up. “Who did this?”
