I follow his gaze and see how close I was to falling ass over tit from the scrap piece of metal inches away from my feet.
“Where’s Otis?”
Conrad gives me a sickening smile, the dark angles on his face made even more sinister by the cold moonlight. “You know this isn’t how we do this, sweetheart.”
He can take that term of endearment out of his mouth.
He produces a set of handcuffs, the cold metal echoing through the scrapyard. I happen to lift my gaze and see company loitering in the distance over the tops of containers and wheel stacks.
I don’t have to see their murderous gazes to know that they’re all watching me. Waiting for me to act out so they have an excuse to kill. I’ll bet that’s why they applied in the first place to join Conrad’s cult—they were all searching for a license to kill.
Here in Vegas, killing seems to be everybody’s deep, dark secret. If they haven’t already committed the crime, there’s a high chance they’re thinking about doing it.
The city breeds killers. That’s what happens when you divide a place up into two categories. You’re either stinking rich or down at the bottom managing with the leftovers.
And nobody wants the leftovers.
So here they all are, carrying guns and a load of resentment for the world, working for a seedy Irish mobster who encourages them to be as inhumane as possible as long as he gets what he wants.
I drop my eyes back to the dangling shackles, the old chains rattling in Conrad’s hands. There isn’t much left of the man. As soon as he loses his brain, he loses everything.
But even then, that won’t be enough to stop him. Companies don’t die when their founders do. They get passed down to thenext person in charge. What Conrad has created is a business. Think Milton’s Milkshakes but all violence and no dairy.
Conrad’s reign will never end. Vegas will never be safe.
Even if Carter, Skipper, and Vex succeed today, they won’t succeed forever. Will Otis ever be safe?
I don’t doubt the bikers’ abilities to protect Otis, but O’Neills outnumber Venom Vultures by hundreds.
“You want to see your son again, don’t you?” Conrad jingles the chains, prompting me to stick my hands in them like I’m a dog and he’s waiting to take me for a walk.
Bile threatens to burst out of my mouth.
My men are only a short distance away. If I scream now, they’ll be over here in a few short moments.
But I can’t call them over. Not yet. Not until I find Otis.
Conrad knows where my son is. If I break his rules, he could kill him.
I’m therefore in no position to call them over yet.
I take another look at the handcuffs. Surrounded by killers, I have no option but to reduce myself down to the same hopeless woman I’ve been trying to kill for years. Tonight, I revive her the second I stick my first hand in the cuff.
“Good girl.” Conrad’s voice is how I imagine nausea to sound if it could speak.
The cuffs close around my wrists with a devastatingclick!And then I’m being escorted inside, leashed up in chains like I’m an animal.
The moonlight shining down from the sky carves a weak path out in front of me. Among empty syringes and broken glass are torn clothes, which I immediately avert my eyes from.
Do everything he says, unless he tells you to remove your clothes.
He has me in chains, so I can’t protest if he decides to remove them.
All I can do is scream.
Conrad leads me inside the largest warehouse of them all. Apart from more rusted shipping containers and a shit load of tires, the space is empty.
It’s so huge that I can’t even see the other side. Trapped in a chasm of darkness with my hands tied, we’re off to a good start.
