Prompt 5 : Wicked Game
I sighed from the depths of my soul as I stared at the stubborn man in front of me. His eyes were firm, even as they were obviously tinged with pain. I considered how stiffly he held himself, even after everything that had been done. He would be hard to break.
"One last time. Where is the money?" My voice was devoid of emotion. The room was quiet as my words rang out, sharper than any knife. The man didn't move or speak. He just didn't get it. It wasn't as though I enjoyed torturing him. This was a harsh work; do your job or suffer the consequences.
I hadn't gotten into this blindly, per se, and neither had he. At one time I had answered to him in fact. Now I just needed answers to appease the one in charge. One day that might be me, but today was not that day. So here I was, looking my old mentor in the eye and waiting for a confession that wouldn't come.
I stepped forward, looking at the crust of blood beneath his nails, the drip of it from various cuts, and the bruises that peeked out from under his torn clothes. I grabbed a chair and dragged it across the floor to sit directly in front of him. I could see the other men cringing at the sound of metal dragging across the concrete.
The screech of it stopped and I sat backwards with my arms over the back. I tilted my head at this paragon of the group. He still looked unfazed. I grinned at him and finally saw a touch of unease in his eyes. He didn't get it, but I would make sure that he did.
I was willing to do anything. I had not crawled my way from the depths of the bottom just to throw it away for him. I hadn't been raised with such loyalty. I was raised to grab the bread from the table before someone else did. I was taught how to steal and lie as long as it benefitted the group, but don't ever get caught doing it for yourself.
He got caught. By me. Now I had to show him just how well I had learned my lessons. That there was no excuse for weakness. I gently stroked the scar on the palm of my hand and his eyes broke from our staring contest long enough to watch the movement.
His eyes widened slightly and then darted back to mine with a squint. I snapped my fingers and the door was opened. My man dragged in a struggling form with a bag covering their head. The person was pushed to their knees next to the chair and the bag lifted to reveal a gagged and blindfolded boy.
"Shawn!? What the fuck? You piece of shit... why'd you bring him into this?" The man spat at me suddenly. I saw the boy perk up next to me with the sound of is father's voice. He couldn't speak of course with the gag around his head.
"Now now Marcus. You know how things are. Sins of the father and all that." I said in a sing-song voice. "Didn't you tell me a good boy cleans up his father's mess?" He glared daggers at me now. Hah. I knew that would wipe the indifferent expression off his face.
"Don't you fucking touch him. I will tell you what you want to know." He finally said the words I had been waiting to hear. I started to laugh and shook my head at him.
"See, I knew you were going to say that. The trouble is, unlike some people, I am a man of my words." My voice dropped and my face darkened as I steeled myself. It wasn't so very hard to put aside my morals. All I had to do was think of this very same man standing over me in a ratty old apartment.
"It doesn't matter if you want to pay it back with insurance money. He has already been sold to cover the debts." The cold eyes swept over my prostrate figure. My fists clenched. I surged to my feet to try and stop the men, reaching out desperately. My hand was slashed with a knife and I was punched hard in the gut. I flew back, doubled over and heard my brother's voice cry out.
"Don't fight them, Vee. I'll go. It's okay Vee. I'll be okay. Take care of yourself. I'll find you later." His eyes were sad but determined, and as the ten-year-old me watched, he was taken from me.
"Tell you what kid, you come work for me and I'll put it towards your parents' debt. You can get your brother out of there in no time." The man stared down at me with a sharp eye and a sneer on his lips. I looked past him through the door and nodded slowly.
"It doesn't matter if you want to tell me now. He has already been sold to cover your debts." I leaned forward with a sadistic twist to my face. "Tell you what, you come work for me and I'll put in a good word to the higher ups." His eyes widened in horror as he stared back at me. I watched a tear escape and tumble over his cheeks as he finally broke apart.
"You can get your son out of there in no time."
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