Ruthless

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Ruthless Page 12

by Myers, Kelly


  “I’m not for sale, Zero.”

  “Don’t turn it down just yet. Let me paint you a picture first.” He lowers his voice into a somewhat dreamy tone. “You don’t need to work under anyone another day in your life. You get to travel, do charity, author books…scandalize as many businessmen as you please—letting Palanick be, of course.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because soon enough, I promise you, you’ll get to know they’re not as bad as you thought. That they’re actually working for the greater good.”

  “Zero, you crack me up.”

  “You’ll have enough money to support as many NGOs as you’d like. Feed more people. Free more children from their labor camps. Maybe even become a politician and help provide better work environments for sex workers?”

  “You didn’t call them hookers. I’m impressed.”

  “I’m not the animal you think I am, Dina.”

  “Animals don’t plot and scheme the way you and your boss do. Animals are pure. You’re monsters.”

  He stays quiet for a moment before finally exhaling. “That can be subjective.”

  “I don’t need to ask since you love listening to your own voice.”

  “You’re a monster in someone’s story, too, Dina. All of those men whose hearts you broke? Whose dreams you’ve shattered? That ring, sadly returned?”

  “That’s personal,” I shout.

  “If only you had the competence to envision what a personal tragedy can lead to,” I think I hear the disgust in his voice. “But you’re just as self-centered as the rest of the world.”

  Before I have the chance to respond, I suddenly hear the door slam.

  And once again…

  Complete and maddening stillness.

  17

  Gabriel

  It’s almost dawn when I return to my home office. Needless to say, the thought of sleep has completely abandoned my mind. I knew she was an opinionated, stubborn woman, but she also seems to genuinely hate me and everything I stand for with a passion.

  Sitting down in my lounger by the window, I let my fingers flirt with the half bottle of scotch on the table next to me. I then withdraw my hand, pushing myself up and covering the distance between me and the chest of drawers in the corner. I pull one open and pick up my pack, eyeing another joint.

  A deep exhale escapes my lips as I grab one and instantly light it before I change my mind.

  The only way Dina will consider cooperating with me is if I make her understand my plan—better yet, my motives. But should I let her in on my most confidential piece of work yet? Can I trust her?

  It’s unlikely.

  That woman mercilessly ripped the hearts of those who loved her out of their chests and didn’t even have the courtesy to comfort them as they bled. She doesn’t strike me as the faithful type or one who values the greater image.

  Ramone steps in, lazily shuffling while his hands work to tidy up his unruly hair. “Heard you paid doll a visit.”

  I chuckle, taking a drag before I hold in my breath. As I exhale, I mumble. “Cursed doll, I can assure you.”

  “Told ya,” he extends a hand, and I pass the joint. He places it between his lips and narrows his eyes. “Still nothin’, eh?”

  “Not for long,” he gives it back to me, and I step away, returning to my seat, gazing out at the changing colors of the sky. “You seemed to have a conversation earlier. Any insights?”

  “She thinks she’s a hero of some sorts. That you’re the villain.”

  “Did she ask about Peele? Duvall?”

  “She showed concern, yes.”

  I take another drag and pull it in deeper, letting the fragrant smoke fill my lungs. I know the type. Her loyalty can be mighty and must belong somewhere.

  But where?

  I pull the phone out of my pocket and text Amanda.

  Good morning, Mandy. Please move all my meetings online. Leave the calls as they are. I’ll be working remotely today. Dan will bring you the laptop and phone, so keep me posted on any updates with that. He’ll be back to pick them up at seven p.m. Thanks.

  I pass the joint back to Ramone and get up, staring outward through the window. He stands next to me, smoking.

  “What are you gonna do now?” he asks with a low voice.

  Retrieving it from his hand, I chuckle, announcing. “I’m going back in.”

  In the long corridor, I stand in front of the elevator and press ‘down.’ The welcome hum precedes the sliding of the opening doors, and I step in. I take another long drag on my way down, puffing out the smoke that surrounds me only for a second before the doors reopen.

  “Rise and shine, princess,” I loudly announce my arrival and watch her twist and squirm to sit up.

  Her shirt has escaped the belt, wrinkled and screwed around her tiny waist. A button was also now undone, revealing a part of her taut, flat stomach. With the joint between my lips, I inch closer to fasten it for her, and she flinches, shrinking back.

  “Don’t—” she winces, her leg retracting in readiness to kick.

  “I’m only…” I speak slowly with a soothing voice. “getting this button here.”

  It’s the first time for me to be this close. Details like her dry lips, her shivering chin and cold skin monopolize my attention for a second. Her hair, unwashed and now slightly matted, remains soft-looking like threads of silk. I also hear her stomach rumbling.

  “I don’t wanna hurt you, Dina,” I step back,

  “Zero,” she exhales. “pungent.”

  “Want some?”

  “What is it with you guys offering me drugs?”

  Taken aback, I lick my lower lip and exhale. “Who else?”

  “Your buddies from before.”

  I launch closer. “Who. Else?”

  “Two, the driver,” she quickly blurts out.

  “What exactly did he give you?”

  “He offered weed. I didn’t take it.”

  I chuckle in relief. “Weed’s not drugs. You scared me there for a second.”

  “Sure.”

  “I’m serious,” I shrug as if she can see me. “Why else would they legalize it in our beloved state?”

  “Probably another cunning financial scheme, but what do you know about those?”

  “Just how misguided do you think I am?”

  “I don’t know,” she shrugs with one shoulder. “enough to do what you’re doing right now.”

  “You mean helping save the world?”

  “I was referring to getting high to numb the pain of your own stupidity.”

  “And that’s different from your prescription meds, how?”

  She shakes her head. “I don’t know, maybe because what I used to take wasn’t illegal until a few months ago.”

  “Is it all about what’s legitimate and what’s not?”

  “One of the attributes of a civilized society, not that it’s to your liking.”

  “Aren’t you tired?”

  “Getting there.”

  “I mean from pretending that this society you so courageously endorse is far from civilized?”

  “People like you taint—”

  “People like me are trying to fucking salvage what’s left!” I raise my voice in frustration before I take the final drag, shaking my head and pacing around the room to calm myself. “You know? I was once like you. A self-righteous idealistic little prick, before reality, hit.”

  “Allow me,” she gives me a provocative grin. “Straight-A student in a dysfunctional family that mentally broke you and forced you off the right path? Did you join a teen gang, tough boy? Terrorizing unassuming citizens? Were you out of garbage cans before Gabriel gave you a second lease on life?”

  Grinding my jaws, I toss the cigarette butt and step on it, pressing it with my shoe until it flattens. “Dickens fan?”

  “I hate Dickens.”

  “Ah—you prefer Orwell.”

  “My desktop screen. Did you like it?”

  “Go
t me thinking,” I slide my hands into my pockets and resume strutting around, kicking my feet forward as I do. “But you know what really hit a nerve? I, too, didn’t end up working in the line of business I had intended.”

  “Oh, Zero,” she tilts her head in mock sympathy. “Did you wanna be a doctor? Save lives, but ended up destroying them?”

  I scoff. “Like your loser boyfriend?” I shake my head. “Hardly. When I was little, I wanted to join Greenpeace.”

  “Too bad they don’t accept psychos.”

  “Oh, they do. Trust me. There are psychos in every profession. You’d be surprised.”

  “Sounds like you could’ve fit right in. Why didn’t you, then?”

  “Unlike you, I chose to create my own platform.”

  Her forehead wrinkles, and I know I have her full attention.

  “I join the one industry that has the most potential. The one that promises to reign above all, holding the controls of almost everything.”

  “An IT nerd?” she giggles. “Gee, I gotta give it to you. You stumped me.”

  “It’s a double-edged sword. But if used properly—”

  “Can grant you access to everything and everyone.”

  “The good and the bad.”

  “An audacious breach of people’s privacy. Who you call ‘good’ will get trampled in your mad stampede of power.”

  “Their welfare will remain intact. None of their data will be touched.”

  “Is that what Gabriel told you? You sound like a bright guy. The culprit is…that man has you brainwashed.”

  “Why do you hate Gabriel so much?”

  “He’s a filthy rich, entitled, spoiled little brat who never had to suffer a single day in his life. What makes you think that he’ll care about the wellbeing of small folk like you and me?”

  “You speak as if you know him.”

  “I’ve met a few Gabriel’s in my life.”

  I chuckle. “I doubt that.”

  “Yeah? What did he promise you? A house? A trust fund? A lifetime of salaries like the one you offered me?”

  “A better world.”

  “That’s only possible when the rules are followed.”

  “The rules written by the very same people you attack on a daily basis. You’re full of contradictions, Didi.”

  “I said…don’t call me that.”

  “Yeah, you’re not nine. I remember. But you sound just as naïve.” I sigh deeply, lowering myself onto the cold floor until I settle, resting my back against the wall. “Gabriel’s had his fair share of suffering, I can assure you.”

  I see her chest rise with a breath, and she holds it in.

  “Just like you, he’s been to a dozen therapists. He was put on a bunch of meds, too. Also didn’t work.”

  “Boo-hoo,” she carelessly shakes her head.

  “C’mon, don’t be insensitive. He’s a fellow lunatic after all.”

  She titters, sarcasm all over her lips. “If you think you can lump us all together into the same sad category, you’re mistaken.”

  “He, too, never felt understood by any of the women he loved. And he also knew that breaking them free of the bonds that tied them to him was the right thing to do. The fair thing.”

  “Cry me a river, Zero. A crush on the boss is a terrible idea. Smoke another joint. You’ll get over it.”

  “He smokes it too, you know. It’s medicinal.”

  “Oh?”

  “He finds that it’s the only thing that helps him relax. Slows down his raging mind.”

  “While he hacks into women’s computers like a sinister ghoul? Now there’s an image.”

  “We have much more in common than you think.”

  “The three of us again?” she titters, looking vaguely tired. “Is that a fantasy of yours?”

  “I wouldn’t kick you out of bed.”

  “I’d rather die.”

  “Were you abused?”

  I see that she’s surprised by my unrelated question. However, it’s not entirely irrelevant.

  After a moment of silence, she sharply exhales. “In case you haven’t noticed, I am right now.”

  “Why are you so concerned with battered women?”

  “Not enough people are. Exhibit A?” she shakes her head around, referring to our current situation.

  “Nobody’s laid a finger on you.”

  “Not all torture is physical.”

  “And not all physical torture is unwelcome. Am I right?”

  “What are you insinuating?”

  “That the rules don’t always apply.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Do you know how many visitors go to the dark-net every day?”

  “I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”

  “Over two-point-five million. Every single day.”

  “And?”

  “Over one million victims of forced sexual exploitation.”

  I watch as her expression flattens and her muscles tense up.

  “A hundred million dollars’ worth of illicit drug sales every year,” I continue. “Ten thousand illegal organ trades. Human organs, where do you think they come from?”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because you’re blind, Dina.” I pause then scoff, shaking my head. “No pun intended.” In desperate need of an upper, I ruffle my hair with my fingers. “I refuse to believe that you’re stupid. You choose to ignore the facts because it’s easier than having to face them. The world is not even close to what it appears to be, and the economy you deem immoral is heaven compared to what’s happening underground. Under your nose.”

  “Oh, I get it. You wanna uncover the evil, hidden darkness and bring it to light? Instead of berating me, why don’t you get your hands dirty? Go undercover. Exchange information. Be the hero you talk about becoming.”

  “Believe me, that’s what we’re working towards. You’re nothing but a thorn in our sides. We both want a better world, Dina. The only difference here is that you’ve tried playing by the book—miserably failing, by the way. While Palanick bends the rules for the greater good.”

  “For greater profit.”

  Frustrated, I shake my head and lift up my eyes to the ceiling. “You’re unbelievable.”

  “And you’re insufferable.”

  Furious, I swiftly push myself up, jumping to my feet, and she recoils by the effect of the sound, tilting her head away as her shoulder flattens against the wall.

  “I’m not gonna hit you! Jesus!” I yell, angrily pulling the door open and slamming it behind me with all my might. The loud bang echoes across the entire floor.

  For such a small person, she’s wildly infuriating.

  18

  Dina

  I have nothing to help me tell time, and I wonder if Gabriel Palanick has already won. After all, wristwatches haven’t been a necessity since the commercialization of cellphones. Now, a watch is either an accessory to indicate status or an extension to your smartphone. Either way, I’m fucked. My sleeping patterns are fucked, my insides feel like they’re deflated into themselves, and my stomach has started gnawing at its own lining.

  The door opens, and I hear footsteps.

  “Hey, doll,” One’s voice greets me. “I’m sorry, but I have strict instructions now.”

  Commotion suddenly fills the room, and a pair of big, strong hands grab my face, forcefully pushing my cheeks inward as a finger is coarsely inserted between my lips. I bite, and the man grunts.

  “Fuck,” he hisses. “do it!”

  Another man is in the room—I can tell by his breathing. Together, they pin me down against the wall. I scream and cough.

  “Pointless,” One spitefully chuckles. “The room’s soundproof. In fact, the entire floor is.”

  A hand inserts a piece of food that I fail to initially taste and squeezes my lips together. “Chew, dammit! You’re not dying on my watch.”

  I comply just so he would stop kneading on my face. This is gonna bruise later, I think to my
self as I squirm and momentarily free my head.

  “Good girl,” he whispers as I push myself to swallow. He inserts another piece, and this time, I wiggle away, spitting it out. “That’s just disgusting,” he scoffs, and I hear him and the other man slapping their hands against what sounds like the rough fabric of their denim pants.

  “This is gonna take all day,” One solemnly remarks.

  “Leave her be, then,” the other man shrugs it off, and I hear his steps move away. “We tried.”

  “You call that trying?” I hear the anger in his voice.

  “Hey, don’t take it out on me. She’s the one who clearly doesn’t give a shit.”

  “Hey, doll,” One addresses me. “Cat caught your tongue?”

  I stifle the tears and stay quiet, toiling to regulate my breathing that’s now going faster as my heart races.

  “You’re gonna kill yourself this way,” One warns. I now sense that we’re all alone.

  Again, I say nothing.

  “This won’t go well with him,” he shuffles away. “Consider yourself warned.”

  Some more time passes with me lying unconscious on the bed. The door flails open, prompting a loud thud with what I assume is its back hitting the wall.

  “You won’t eat, and now you won’t even speak?” Zero returns.

  “Gee,” I barely get the words out, feeling like the energy is being drained out of my body. “You can’t stay away for too long.”

  “Right about now…your body’s functioning differently to reduce the amount of energy it burns,” he explains with a calm voice. I can hear his steps roaming about. “You’re officially in starvation mode.”

  “The faster, the better,” I mumble, my cheeks and lips burning.

  “Sure, you’re no college student, and your body mass is already small. But I’m sorry to inform you that it won’t be a quick death. Most hunger strikes that end in death are concluded within…maybe, forty, forty-five days.”

  I won’t make it a week like this.

  He’s still walking around, but I find it hard to concentrate, so I keep my eyes closed behind the fold and just breathe.

 

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