“Ha, ha, ha!” He laughs hysterically. “You’d like me to be your host, just like my father was. Right? Think again. I’m not that stupid. You took advantage of that and killed us all. Well, not all of us. Am I right? Ha, ha, ha, ha!” He’s psychotic. I need to get out of here, fast.
While he laughs like the maniac he is, I scan my surroundings. Nothing much to work with, to be honest.
We’re in a room with concrete walls. No windows or furniture. There’s a small but bright light that hangs from the ceiling and a single wooden door that looks old and moldy. The only way out is through that door and judging by the way he bound my body to this chair, I don’t think Asad is planning to let me stand up and walk through it.
A few seconds go by and I hear a knock on the door, interrupting his laughter. Asad grunts and walks towards the door. He opens it and brings in a cart with a bloody tarp on top of it.
This is not a good sign.
He sets the cart to the side and then I say. “That doesn’t look like the kind of tea party one would enjoy.”
“Speak for yourself. I’m going to enjoy every second of it. But before we begin our celebrations, let’s bring the rest of our guests!” He spins on his heels and takes a laptop from under the tarp. He sets the laptop on top of the cart and opens it. There’s only one thing on the screen —Carter. Barely moving, strapped to a chair, just like me, and looking pretty beat up. Next to him, there’s a biker guarding the room. His clothes are bloody and a thread of saliva mixed with blood is hanging from his mouth. He looks… dead. “Mr. Carter, say ‘hi’ to your ‘cuz.’”
How the fuck did he know he’s my cousin?
Carter raises his head, looking for the source of the voice in the room. He’s totally confused, unable to locate the camera. His swollen purple eyes are almost closed shut, and his nose is clearly broken. But his smile is still there. Bloody teeth and all, but he smiles.
Fucking tough guy.
“Bruno, I found him!” He says and laughs, ending with a bad cough.
“Yeah. Great job, you moron.”
“Haaaa. Isn’t this great, boys? The family reunited because of me. I’m honored, really,” Asad says while showing us his wretched yellow teeth in a creepy smile. I’m going to knock every fucking one of those, the first chance I get.
“Shall we get this party started or what, little Abdel? Oops, sorry. I meant Asad.” Asad frowns when he hears me.
“Of course, but before we begin, let me bring our last guest. Cassandra! Oops, sorry. I meant Sarah.”
Fucker.
“Tell me, Professor. When you fuck her, do you call her by her old slave name or her new slave name?”
“FUCK YOU!” I say while jumping on the chair.
“Manners, Professor. Manners,” he says and delivers a slap across my face.
“A slap, Asad? Really? Have you not learned anything from me, child? Then again, you were always a pussy.” I’m taunting him, trying to shift the dynamic of this situation against him. If I can get him pissed off, then we might have an advantage.
“He slapped you? Are you sure he wants to kill you and not marry you? I mean, who does that to another dude?” Carter says over the camera. When his words reach Asad’s ears, he readies himself to hit me again. Only this time he wields his fist.
“I said, manners!” He yells. Before he can deliver that pissed-off punch, the wooden door opens again. Then I see Sarah rushing in, stumbling as if she was pushed. Her hands are tied behind her back; she has a black eye and blood in her mouth. Behind her, a man walks in, wearing a biker patch. I glance in his direction to check the rank.
Fucking hell.
‘President.’ That’s what the patch says. Bad Blood.
You cocksucker.
Sarah’s standing a few feet away from me, looking straight at me. Bad Blood shoves her again. She struggles, but he’s stronger… way stronger than her. He slaps her and grabs her hair. I jump on the chair again, trying to lose my bindings.
We both look at each other’s bodies, scanning for injuries. Neither of us finds anything alarming.
Our eyes meet at the same time and have a conversation.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. You?”
