Chapter 21
I don't think Set ever returned to bed. I didn't fall asleep until the morning, and he was still on the balcony when I couldn't keep my eyes open and drifted away.
Room service woke me up late morning, bringing me a cart with pretty much all the nutrients I needed to fully get back on my feet. Set probably sent that so I wouldn't die on him, and he would get to torture me again and again for the rest of my life.
Can't really complain about last night’s torture, though. But I should chase such thoughts away from my mind and see the reality—he will end me the second I stop being of interest to him.
I take a little something from nearly every plate. I was starving, plus I didn't want to give Set more reason to get mad at me.He didn't give me instructions on what to do next, but I decided to go back to the penthouse since I wanted to take a bath, and change into something different.
There's no one around, except for the maid, so I head to my en-suite bathroom and turn on the hot water. I look at the large marble tiles, at the bubbly jacuzzi, and even at the stack of luxury care products I have at my disposal. A girl could live like this... I used to live like this, but the cost of the human lives that have been ended doesn't justify it. I would turn back time to the day I accepted Nick’s proposal to work for Set in a heartbeat.
I do miss Nick, but the bitter aftertaste he left me before he died numbs the pain. It even numbs any happy memory I ever had with him. He was willing to kill me to save himself while I would have traded my life to save his. I refuse to think about him any longer, and the door of my room swinging wide open erases him from my mind for now, only to make room for my personal demon.
“Get dressed.”Set walks in like he's in a hurry, and goes straight to my dressing room from where he takes out a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and throws them on the bed.
I have no idea where we’re going, and I’m only in a towel since I just left the bathroom. But it must be something casual since I look at his own clothes, and his usual suit is missing.
A black pair of jeans replaces it and a shirt similar to mine that fails to cover the black ink of his tattoos. Oh, he wants us to match—so cute and so creepy.
It's not like I can do anything about it; I have to change, but he's looking straight at me, acting like he doesn't see a problem with me changing right in front of him. And apparently, he really doesn't have any kind of problem with that. “Don't get shy on me now. I've seen that pretty pussy of yours dripping over me before. There's nothing left for you to hide.”
Shit, I guess he does have a point. He's seen me pretty much hitting rock bottom, yet, I do feel awkward about changing in front of him. But he's still here standing in front of me, eyes like a hawk, waiting for me to obey his will. And I know all too well what happens when I don't. So, with trembling hands, I take my towel off and squeeze into the T-shirt and jeans he brought for me. I must’ve looked like I’d been struck by lightning because I managed to change in a nanosecond. My body contorted and twisted, so he would get to see as little as possible of my shapes.
I run back into the dressing room, to get a pair of Jordans and even though I can see him almost laughing as I return, I act like there's nothing to laugh about. “Ready,” I shake my head as I try to catch my hair in a ponytail.
Of course, he doesn't answer—just goes out the door, and expects me to follow, which I do because I don't really have any other choice.
I don't know when it happens, but somewhere on the way to the elevator, he catches my hand and keeps it in his own all the way down to the underground parking lot. He considers it a natural gesture while my hand feels frozen from the elbow down.
It’s not just me who finds this awkward. I can see the surprised look on his employees' faces as we walk past them. I think I’ve just become something more than the person he needs to punish. I don't know if I have his forgiveness, but I suspect I have something far more important. That both freaks me out and overwhelms me. I don't quite know how to handle it, yet I think it's a leverage I have that keeps me alive. I just don't want to jinx it.
He shows me to his car, and judging by the license plate, the whole parking lot is full of his cars—none of them cheaper than most people’s lifetime savings. Strangely enough, he's playing the gentleman by opening my door and waiting for me to get inside to close it.
He then gets in the driver’s seat and drives off to who knows where. It's not like he tells me anything. And I can't deny that I'm almost curious enough to ask, but he finally spares me the trouble. “I want to teach you something today,” he says, without taking his eyes off the road.
“Is this about the safe you want me to break into?” I can't imagine why else he’s in such a hurry, unless he got a lead on something.
“We'll get to that in the next couple of days. Today is about something different,” he doesn't say anything more, and I don't ask. I don't want to seem overly curious or overly friendly and engage myself in any kind of conversation with him, especially since everything I have to say tends to get me in trouble with this man.
I think it takes us less than ten minutes before we arrive in a mansion's driveway, and he pulls the car over straight in front of the villa. There are several other cars parked here, but I don't think it's a party. At least not the kind of party I like to attend.
Two men are standing at the front door, and I recognize them as being Set's guards. He gets out of the car the second we arrive but gestures for me to stay in. I believe he needs to ensure himself that it's safe for me to go inside, because as soon as I see the guards nod, he opens my door and waits for me to join him.
I don't want to go inside. I have a really bad feeling about this. Every fiber of my being screams for me to turn and run away, but the fear of what Set might do keeps me rooted in place.
I have no other choice than to follow him, even though there's something about this place that makes me want to stay behind. The front hallway is covered in large marble tiles. Someone spared no money to build this place. But it's not the architecture that gets my attention. It's the obvious signs of devastation that get me on my toes. A few vases and other art objects are lying broken on the floor, and I can spot bullet holes in one of the arcades. It takes me only a few steps until I see a body lying on the floor. It's a few feet away from me, and I can only see it from the waist down, as it's collapsed in a different hallway, but I know very well that person isn't alive anymore.
I suddenly get the urge to scream. I've been through this just a week ago and I don't want to know what happens next. But I can see Seth walking forward like nothing happened, and I can't even decide what is worse—staying here with a dead body or following him.
Like he has a sixth sense, he picks up on my anxiety. I see him stop and suddenly turn to face me. “You're gonna give me a hard-on if you keep shivering like that, and I’ve still got business to take care of, Ya’amar.” His voice low and intense while he reaches for my hand, and makes sure I don't fall behind again.
Set's in a hurry, like the smell of death calls to him. He pulls me through a few more rooms until we reach an inner courtyard. I count more than ten bodies, scattered around the courtyard lawn. There's so much blood I can't even look around me. I think my brain refuses to process what I’m seeing.
I feel a knot piling up in the pit of my stomach as Set guides me next to the pool, on a large plateau, where his men are keeping someone at gunpoint. But we don't get there before I lose my calm and start hyperventilating. There's a woman's body right on the stone path that leads there.
I don't know if my mind just stops functioning, or it’s just my feet that wouldn't move, but I refuse to get closer to the corpse. Not even Set's grip can convince me to go along. That makes him stop as well. I expect him to be angry, and by the looks on his men's faces, so do they.Instead, he's switching my hand to his other, moving me from the right side of his body to his left, further away from the dead body. It's like, this time, he's protecting me, and I start feeling like a little child hiding behind him. He stops right in front of the dead woman, but I don't want to look at her. All I can see is that she's dressed in some kind of maid’s clothes. Judging by her looks she was part of the maintenance staff.
“She's been shot in the back.” I can hear him groan. “Who did this?” He lets out a roar and still keeping my hand in his own, and walks closer to the man being held at gunpoint. “I'm not gonna ask again,” he warns his men.
“It was Max,” one of his men calls out, shaking with fear. He's pointing toward another one of Set's guards who seems to be petrified on the spot.These are men who don't break easily, and yet they can't control themselves in front of their boss.
It takes just one sharp look from Set so that the man who spoke earlier points the gun Max's way and fires. The body instantly crashes to the ground, and I can see the sorrow in the gaze of the guard who just killed him. They were probably friends, but here it’s every man on his own, and any mistake can be lethal.
Set continues walking as if nothing has happened. That scares me even more than the pile of dead bodies lying around. However, seeing someone die doesn't seem to affect him the way killing someone himself did. The madness is still there but on a much lower level. It's like he's still pretty much in control, and the episodes of pitch-black darkness are gone.
Strangely enough, I think he believes he owes me an explanation for what just happened. “It's all about keeping a balance. And mistakes like that break that fucking balance. I told him not to kill anyone innocent. This was the second time that happened.” I don't know if he's excusing himself for what he’s indirectly done, or he's just trying to teach me things— as he said in the car. But he lacks any kind of empathy, and I’m sure he's not done showing me that.
“You thought you could go behind my back with your business. I think I've been generous enough with the share I've given you.” I can hear Set talking with the man who's held hostage by the guards.
I don't know what this is about, but I have a feeling they were some kind of business partners.
And the man seems to confirm it. “Seth, I don't know where you got the information, I never double-crossed you.”
“Hmmm,” I can hear a snarl of disapproval, coming from behind me. Set doesn't buy into whatever the man is trying to convince him of. And to be honest, I wouldn't either. I know his kind. I've seen enough people like him in the past to know he's lying. He has that greedy expression splattered all over his face. Like he's the fucking Grinch—no matter what mask he would try to put on he would never seem decent.
“You were selling drugs, Jacob. A lot more drugs than I ever agreed for you to distribute in my city,” Set mutters, and I feel his hands tense while holding mine.
“There was a new shipment. I was going to tell you about it. And I was definitely going to give you your share. I'm not crazy. I would never keep that from you,” the man all but cries, and I know he's close to begging Set for his life.
Yet the master of darkness doesn't seem convinced of whatever he has to say. “Didn’t I tell you there's only a certain limit that you can put on the market?”
“You did,” Jacob whines, “But I didn't do it so I can double cross you. Please believe me.”
Seth doesn't seem the least bit impressed with the man’s explanations. “You've messed with the balance. Not just once. Did I allow you to take a life here, in my town?” The tone of his voice is calm,and that's what worries me the most.
“They owed me money. So, I had a couple of dealers eliminated, to set an example for anyone else who tries to steal from us. What's the big deal? I was only doing your men's job.”
“My men's job is to do what I say. And I never ordered them to kill those dealers. So, no, Jacob, you weren’t doing my men's job—you were doing what you thought suited you best. If I wanted them dead, they would have been dead long before you got any chance to set things right. ” I know from the irony in Set's tone what's coming. But his attention suddenly shifts to me. “Everything in this city must have a balance. The lives taken, the lost souls, the money rolling, it all adds up, and I am the one in charge of that limit.”
“Are you the devil?” I ask, somehow terrified by what really goes on in that mind of his.Maybe he’s delusional enough to believe he is.
“No, he's much kinder than me,” he whispers back like that's a secret only him, and I can know. Then I see his finger move and a silent bang splatters Jacobs's brain on the marble tiles.
Set is nothing more than a certified maniac, I'm sure of that. And I don't know if he's insane enough to consider himself to be some kind of devil, but he sure acts like one.
Still, no matter how terrified I am of him, I refuse to play his game. He's an overly empowered psychopath, and his place is in the nuthouse. The only balance he's keeping is the one in his own pockets. What a phony, talking about Jacob taking lives when all he ever does is kill who ever gets in his way. My team was killed because of him. Nick was killed because of him. This courtyard full of bodies is because of him.
How's that for keeping the damn balance?
Of course, I don't say any of that to him. I just keep quiet for as long as I can. Or maybe I'm still in shock from seeing people being murdered in front of me again. It's becoming a custom around Set, and I can’t help but ask myself when it will be my turn.
We don't stay for long. His job here is done. I'm just not sure why he took me along. I don't know what lesson he was trying to teach me, but he failed miserably. He is delirious in his actions, and that makes him all the more dangerous. I have to watch myself around him, even though I don't blame him for one thing—punishing the man who killed that poor maid. Still, in a way, the woman’s blood is somehow still on Set’s hands.
As we go back to the car, I'm almost terrified of walking through the rooms filled with bodies. I don't know if it's because he cares, or maybe it's just because he's afraid I’ll get scared, and try to run away or do something stupid, but Set pulls me much more closely to him. I think he's trying to give me some kind of comfort while his presence only manages to raise my anxiety.
He feels protective as if he suddenly wants to take things easy with me, and I'm starting to believe it's only another one of his psychotic episodes.
I'm not just tense. I feel as if someone pierced me with a needle I would break into small pieces. As soon as I get back in the car, I curl into the seat and try to deal with everything that I've just witnessed today.
Set gets back in the driver’s seat, and takes off like nothing happened. It's just a regular day for him.
I don't even want to look at him, but I can’t help myself from taking a glimpse in the window at the reflection of the two of us. We probably look like Bonnie and Clyde now. Except I’m no Bonnie, and he's far more dangerous than the Clyde I’ve heard of.
“Just because what you’ve seen today isn't a pretty side of life, it doesn't mean this part doesn't exist. Someone has to do this. One day you'll understand.” He tries to explain something to me, but his perception of the world is far different from the way I see it. Different the way any other normal man or woman sees it.
I'm never going to understand murder, even though I've become a killer myself because of Set.
“Those men back there have families,” I tell him mostly because I don't have the guts to tell him everything that's really on my mind—how fucked up I consider him to be.
“I’ll see that the families are well taken care of. As I told you, I'm here to keep the balance,” he talks about the balance again, as if he's some kind of vigilante. He's a certified maniac, that's for sure, and I have to be careful at all times not to step his precious balance in any direction.