How Long Has It Been

Part IV: Looking Back

Anger festered under his skin. The back of his hand fractured some poor sap's cheekbone. He loomed over their body, scrunched on the floor at his feet. A cigarette dangled out of the corner of Amire's mouth. He raised his foot and stomped it down onto the man's groin. He writhed and screamed. The man was desperately clawing at his boot. Amire looked around and couldn't make out faces.

He pulled the trigger. Blood sprayed up onto his pants and along the floor. He spit the cigarette onto the body, watching the white wrapping soak up the red liquid.

"Bring me something worth some money." He turned to the kennels. His eyes scanned over the bruised and broken bodies. He rose his gun. None of them were worth auctioning. He lifted his gun to get rid of the lot when a hand settled on his shoulder. He recoiled away from the touch and scowled, "What?"

"Don't worry about them- I can sell them." Green eyes swam through the haze and Amire lowered his gun.

"Oh?" Amire scoffed. He towered over the shorter man and everything about him reeked of danger. "You're a new slave runner and these are defective. None of them are worth the penny you earn here."

"I'll find the right market," the man smiled with unearned boldness. The blond man gazed down at him making out the sharp features of his face.

"Do it then." Amire waved him off, stalking back to his desk. He slid the gun back into the holster around his waist. Through the white noise in his ears, he listened as the runner barked orders at his men. Leader material.

"Hey, I can get the body cleaned up." Amire returned his glare to the dark-haired man. His green eyes were bright with mischief. Amire couldn't place him.

"Your name."

"What?"

"What's your name, runner."

"Mars."

"Good. Mars, you're promoted to manager. Congratulations. Clean it up." He waved a gloved hand at him in dismissal.

"That come with a pay raise?" Amire's eyebrows shot up, unsettled by the audacity in the man's tone. He scrutinized his request in silence for a minute before answering.

"What are you paid now?"

"Seven hundred per body."

"How many do you bring in a month?"

"Eight to ten."

"Do a good job and I'll pay you double" Amire lowered his cheek into his hand, he watched Mars move his body weight side to side. Reverberating with energy.

"Make it twenty." Amire's lips twitched.

"Fourteen, and we'll see how things look next month."

"And I'm the manager now?"

"You're 'a' manager."

"Hey, hold up. You are missing out on a great opportunity." Mars was smirking, moving closer to the desk. Not an ounce of doubt in his step.

Amire squinted, the back of his head throbbed. He resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. He could feel irritability sweeping the bottom of his stomach.

"I'm proposing a trial period." Mars insisted, leaning his hands onto the desk, so he could match Amire's level. "Let me run the managers so you can focus on the real issues." He motioned to the men lugging the kennels out of the office.

Amire followed his movements and his jaw constricted. "Trial period." Amire allowed. "I'll kill you if you make a mistake."

"I like those odds," Mars smirked, pushing off and backing away. Confidence set into his shoulders.

Amire dug into his jacket pocket caressing a little red orb in his fingers. He pushed it into his mouth, his teeth digging into it. Familiar bitterness swept over his tongue and cheeks. His headache faded leaving him simmering in his seat. He leaned back, letting his head fall against the chair. The ceiling was yellow and sharply came into focus. The texture morphing into the face he wished to forget.