“You just lied again. Tell me.”
She sighs, “It’s just that I’ve called both my parents and neither answered, and when I texted, they didn’t even go through.”
“Would you like me to take you by there when we leavethe office?” She nods her head, the sadness fading for only a moment. After making a plan to stop by her parents’ house, I put the Bugatti in reverse and haul ass out of the driveway.
The office is quiet, like any other day I come in, but there’s still a faint smell of rotting carcass from below. The ventilating system has only been installed for a short time, but here soon it won’t have to work so hard. I’ve decided today is their last day of enduring our torture, not because I’m a kind soul, but because I’m bored with them and quite frankly sick and tired of their stench ruining my work environment.
No matter the amount of lime powder and bleach we use, they’re entirely too pungent with infection. Kelsey’s face scrunched in disgust the moment the elevator doors opened, and I can’t blame her. Her senses aren’t as used to this as mine are after years of dealing with these things.
“Grab a mask, there’s menthol in that cabinet you can rub inside of it.”
“It’s fine, I’ll get used to it.” And she will, but it will only get stronger the further we descend into the cellar.
The cellar is dark. I pull the chain to flick on the single yellow light bulb that barely gives enough light to see around the examining room. This is where I bring members who get hurt on the job, to keep it low profile and no records kept, whether they’ve been shot or had an appendage go MIA. We’ve lost a few members over the years due to the violence that we get caught up in sometimes. That tends to happen more often than not with thecompetition. I imagine this isn’t an issue for NASCAR racing, but we’re not that, unfortunately. We’re all in this illegally and running underground operations.
“Pick your tool of choice,” I say, shining a light along the wall with all the hanging equipment. I have many options, from saws and blades to more surgical options like scalpels and such.
“For what exactly?” She queries innocently.
“These guys have to be disposed of today, and you have the honors of ending their miserable souls.”
She looks at me, dumbfounded. Now that she’s in RAGE, she will have to get used to this lifestyle and start somewhere. Her time just happens to start now. These fuckers stole something from her. Something she will never get back, so it’s only fair she wields the honor of this task.
“I’ve never killed anybody before. I…” She presses her palm to her chest, looking a bit green in the face. “I don’t think I can.”
“You can and you will. The scalpel will be the fastest if you slice them across the jugular.”
“Oh my… I think I’m gonna be sick.”
“Make sure you get it in the trash. I can’t handle puke.” And that’s the truth. I can handle all other bodily fluids, but vomit? Fuck no. I can’t even handle the sound of somebody puking. Thinking better of gaping at me with the foul stench, she takes long strides to the mini fridge and grabs a water, chugging it down. She then grabs a scalpel and quickly and quietly walks over to the backcells where the bozos are being held. Barely clinging to life.
Something must have switched in Kelsey’s mind, because the moment she locked eyes with the decrepit demons, she appeared to no longer be afraid of taking their lives, the same way they weren’t afraid to ruin hers. She unlocks the cell door and steps inside. Their heads hang low against their chests, their arms black from loss of circulation to them as they hang above their heads, chained to the wall.
I smack Rocky’s bloody and bruised face to wake him up, which I fail to accomplish. They’re just too far gone as it is. I check his pulse and find it barely beating. I do the same to Graves.
“He’s dead.” I had a feeling he would be the first to go. To make this easier on Kelsey, I offer her my Glock. Giving her the opportunity to end it and walk away without the mental load. They’ve already taken enough from her, so I will allow her to take the easy way out just this once.
She takes the gun, wrapping her small fingers around the grip. Her hand has a slight tremor, so I wrap myself around her from her back and steady her hand using mine. “Finger on the trigger, baby.” She sniffs, and I know she’s started to cry. Not from ending their pitiful lives, but taking a life always leaves a mark on your soul. She does as I say, I fold my finger over hers and slowly pull back.
The shot rings out through the cellar, making my ears ring. Rocky’s head flinched back before his whole body went slack. Blood splattered the white tile wall and steadilydrips from the head wound. Kelsey’s legs give out, and I catch her around the waist, being quick to snatch the loaded gun from her grip and pocket it.
“It’s over,” I promise gently in her ear. “They can never hurt you again, and I promise I’ll end Lilith, too.”
Kelsey flinches at her name. I know she wasn’t being honest when she said she didn’t recognize anyone there. I watched the footage over and over again, trying to place it. I’ll question her over that later. If I’m going to the root of this situation, I need all the puzzle pieces.
Her chest heaves as she fights to regain control over her emotions. I remember my first kill and how it left me with debilitating nightmares for months. I was only seventeen. That’s the price I have to pay to run this. It’s not all about money. It’s about survival. You always have somebody out for you, wanting your fortune and ready to risk it all to knock you off the pyramid.
I lift her and carry her up the dark, steep staircase. She nuzzles her tear-soaked face into my chest, gripping the front of my hoodie tight in her fist. I wish I were more nurturing like Jessie, but I’ve never had the emotional mindset like that. Growing up, I didn’t have a mother or father figure in my life to teach me basic human manners. I tried my best to provide for Jessie and take care of her the best I could, but that didn’t include comforting her when hurt or sad. Instead, if a boy broke her heart, I broke his bones. If somebody threatened her life, I ended theirs.
Then Hayden came along. He had parents, great parents for the developmental part of his life. I have to give him allthe credit for instilling compassion and human decency in Jessie. Hayden’s hardcore, but he still has a heart, whereas I don’t. He can send a sick fuck to their grave without batting an eye. At RAGE, our members are trained to turn their emotions off in a split second. It’s a necessary mentality in this line of duty.
I place her in the luxury armchairs in my office to let her calm down for a while. I bring her a snack and a drink for when she’s ready, and I take my seat behind the desk, reading recruit emails. Nobody catches my eye, I hit delete and move on to locating Lilith. We were able to track her private jet, under the name Sharon Bellows, of course, in Aruba. An island notorious for human trafficking. Come to find out, she owns a string of properties on the island. I’m positive she is staying there, so it should be easy to retrieve her.
I called in my cleanup crew to deal with the mess in the cellar. They discard the remains and leave no trace of DNA. They’ve worked for me for years. I had them sign an NDA and forbade them from taking any side jobs. They’ll forever work me and me only.
Teegan saunters in, dressed to the nines in an expensive suit and matching tie. It’s not entirely unusual for him, but it throws me off kilter when he does dress this professionally. He tosses his briefcase on my desk and shuffles through it, pulling out a manila envelope. He glances over at Kelsey, who’s still curled up in the chair, biting her thumbnail, although I think she has stopped crying and is now recovering from the shock. She’s taken a hell of amental load the past three months, but I know how much strength she holds, and will soon run RAGE alongside me.
“Is she okay?” He hooks a thumb over his shoulder at Kelsey.
