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“Don’t worry. Lena’s looking after her. I taught her everything she knows.”
I smile at the pride in my friend’s tone. Max saved Lena, and they fell for each other and are now married. His affection for his wife is strong. She’s the only one who can bring out his softer side.
“I don’t doubt Lena’s abilities. I’m more worried about Shelby’s abilities to follow rules. She’s going to need a lot of instruction.”
Max claps me on the back. “And I’m going to enjoy watching you train her. She’s a tough cookie. I think your dad would have been better hiding her away in Vegas than in a city with so much poverty. It’s given her an inner strength neither of us will ever understand.”
I rub my forehead. “Tell me about it. Let’s get this over with. Hopefully, I’ll get back before they finish waxing her pussy. I need to hear the language that comes out of her mouth.”
Without another word, Max and I put on our game faces and make our way into the room. Two security guards stand either side of what can only be described as a computer nerd who’s been chained to a chair in the middle of the room.
Our captive’s thick rimmed glasses sit low on his nose. His dark, unwashed hair is parted and smoothed down at the sides. The shirt and pants he’s wearing look like they’re from the seventies, which is probably the decade he was born. That makes him quite old, compared to the modern-day computer geeks who usually try to attack my business.
“Mr. Belfield, it’s good to finally meet you.” He looks up at me as I speak. His eyes going wide. “You’ve been a problem for a couple of weeks now, but not enough of an issue to cause me major concern. Only a million dollars, that’s a pitiful amount to steal from me. You should have gone for a billion at least. It would make what happens next worth the pain.”
“P-Please, M-Mr. Armstrong,” he stammers with nerves and jumps in his seat when Max slams the door to the room shut. “It wasn’t me. You have the wrong person.”
“That’s what they all say, but you were caught red-handed, accessing my servers, and you have my money in your personal bank account. I’m afraid there’s no question of your guilt.” I walk around as I speak, circling the chair he’s chained to.
“You can take the money back. Please, Mr. Armstrong. I won’t do it again. I didn’t realize who I was stealing from. Please. I promise.”
I laugh. It’s an evil sound and fills the room. “I already have the money back, Mr. Belfield, plus interest for my loss of earnings. I think the high life you’ve been trying to live, using other people’s money, will be difficult with nothing left in your savings account. Thank you for the generous rates of return.”
Max leans against the door, his feet crossed at the ankles. He knows I enjoy getting my hands dirty, so he’ll stand back unless he’s needed. The two security guards have moved to the corners of the room as well. One stands next to a wall containing a glass fronted cabinet full of old-fashioned knives, axes, and swords. A perfect wall decoration for a place called the cellar.
“Please. You’ve gotten your money back. Your men have already taken my computer. Let me go back to my family. You are a respectable man, Mr. Armstrong. I made a terrible mistake. I won’t do it again.”
“I know you won’t,” I respond as I slam my hand down on the arm of the chair he’s tied to.
With a quick movement, I pull my gun from the holster underneath my jacket and point it straight at the center of his forehead. I press it hard against the thin layer of flesh covering his skull.
“No one steals from me, Mr. Belfield, and gets away with it,” I continue. “I may have got my money back, but there needs to be consequences for your actions.” I pull the hammer back, cocking my weapon. “You should have realized that when you stole from me. You’ve put yourself and your family in danger. Goodbye.”
My finger hovers over the trigger. The man is cowering in front of me. He’s even pissed his pants. I start to laugh.
“Shooting you would be too easy.” Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Max moving across the room to the cabinet on the wall. He takes out one of the axes, already sharpened and ready for me to use. I pull the gun away from the thief’s head and make it safe before putting it back into my holster. “But, letting you live with the consequences of what you’ve done will send a much stronger message. It will be a warning to anyone who might be tempted in the future to take what’s mine.”
This is the part of the punishment I like, the sick and twisted part. The sadistic side of me takes over. Max hands me the axe while one of the security guards unlocks the chains securing our captive to the chair. Max grabs one of Mr. Belfield’s arms and holds it straight out to the side while the other arm is re-secured.
I hold the axe up, and Mr. Belfield realizes what’s about to happen to him. His begging gets louder and more intense, but it falls on deaf ears as I bring the blade of the axe down on his wrist, severing his hand from his arm.
“An old-fashioned punishment for a thief, but one that sends an effective message. Don’t you agree, Mr. Belfield?” I hand Max the axe while ignoring our captive’s cries of pain. Then turning my attention to the security guards, I order, “Clear up this mess, and sort him out before sending him back to his family. Ensure he never owns a computer again. As for the hand.” I kick it across the floor toward them. “Make sure it’s used to send the right message.”
They both nod in agreement.
“Max, let’s go. I’ve got another form of torture I’d much rather be watching.”
7
SHELBY
“Come near me again with those wax strips, and I’ll shove this…this…” I look down at the implement in my hands, which is no doubt an instrument of further torture.
“Curling iron,” Cecilia responds, a wax strip in her hands and a sigh of frustration on her lips.
Lena rolls her eyes and takes a seat at the dressing table.
“I’ll shove this curling iron up your ass while pitching a hissy fit. You don’t get to cause me pain. If Eaton wants me waxed, he can go to hell. I’m all natural. Full stop!”
