Chapter 60 The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived
SIXTY
The smallest man who ever lived
LILA
As the man formerly known as Silas slithers into the room, I’m struck with one question.
Has he always been this . . . tiny?
I mean, he’s jarringly petite. SSA Chase is bigger than him.
No wonder Reed and his team thought he was a female when they saw his silhouette in dark and grainy security cam footage from that murder.
How did this slip by me? Especially since I assume the first thing people notice about me is my size.
Perhaps the terror he rained over me these last few months recolored my memories of him, painting him as an imposing figure, a monster larger than life.
Now?
If I sat on him, he’d snap like a matchstick chair held together by Elmer’s glue.
I’ll keep that option in my back pocket in the event I can’t convince him to let the rest of us go free.
Thus far, nothing extreme has been needed.
The hostage exchange went off without a hitch. If nothing else goes our way from here on out, we saved sixteen federal agents.
That Ginny chick clumsily checked us for weapons, zip-tied our hands in front of us, and led us at gunpoint through this oddly luxurious mansion. The blood puddles and splatter set the ambiance, as did the plethora of dead bodies.
On the bright side, the deceased were all from Cadberry’s goon squad.
Once we got upstairs, I held my breath out of fear we’d be gassed like the agents.
Instead, Ginny shoved us into a large rec room with a billiards table, three huge flat screen televisions, and a plush seating area.
There’s a long bar along one wall with about twelve barstools tucked under the counter.
It’s an odd location for whatever business Carcinogen intends to discuss with us. Maybe we’ll be shooting pool? Best two out of three gets to live?
Sadly, the remaining hostages aren’t in here, including Kenzie.
Without speaking, Jabali flicks his wrist at Ginny, dismissing her as if she’s nothing more than a gnat. The two male gnats get a similar wrist flick.
It’s just the three of us now.
Jabali prowls in a circle around Reed and me, twisting the pointy tip of a long blade against the pad of his index finger. A rifle dangles from his hip, held by a strap. A handgun taunts us from under his belt.
No words have been spoken. And yet the intimidation games are underway.
As much as I detest this uneasy silence, I don’t have anything to say to this vile man. Nothing nice, anyhow. He’ll start when he’s done with the theatrics.
When he disappears from my line of sight to curve behind us, my gaze flits to the walls, gleaming with a horrendous array of tacky neon bar lights.
Rather than beer brands or logos, these are silhouettes of people in compromising positions. Some of the female-presenting figures have particularly erect nipples. Interesting choice of the designer.
Kudos for the varying body types. Nice to see the plus-size representation.
Jabali eventually completes his circular walk of dramatic tension. As he comes around me, he brushes against my side and leers at me. His nauseatingly warm breath assaults the side of my neck.
“Thanks for visiting. You look delicious, as always. I’ve been meaning to have you over for ages. I hope you’ll accept my apologies. Things have been . . . hectic.”
I fight off a cringe and remain impassive. Eyes straight ahead and chin lifted. Reed and I are a united front, strength passing through our joined hands. Nothing Cartman says or does will tear us down.
Glancing to the right, I lock eyes with the most precious man in the world.
While the smallest man who ever lived toys with us for reasons he hasn’t revealed.
Halting in front of us, his posture jolts, and his expression turns suspiciously bright. “Oh. Where are my manners? We haven’t formally met. You must be Reed.” He dips his chin chivalrously at my love. “My name is Jabali. Friends call me Carnage. I’m honored to have you in my home.”
Carbonate transfers the knife to his left hand, then extends his right to Reed for an introductory shake. That’s gonna be a challenge, considering the wrist restraints.
When Reed doesn’t return the pointless gesture, Jabali stomps his foot like a toddler and stiffens his arm.
It’s possible this man has well and truly lost his marbles. The words criminally insane come to mind. Then again, his eyes seem wilder than I recall. Maybe he’s on something.
With one brow arched, Reed lazily raises his bound hands to his chest and wiggles his fingers to direct attention to the reason he can’t shake his hand.
Not that Reed would want to.
Clearly putting on a show, Jabali palms his forehead and chuckles. “How silly of me. Here. Allow me.” He awkwardly holds both of Reed’s hands and shakes them as one unit.
Done with these games, Reed jerks out of his grip. “Cut the shit. Where’s Kenzie and the others? Let’s get this over with.”
“If you insist.” Jabali veers his gaze toward the door, snapping his fingers over his head. “Repo! Bring the bitch in.”
I peek behind me, noticing one of the large men popping in the room briefly to wave his acknowledgment. Then he’s gone again.
Cartwheel directs us to a couch, his tone once more facetiously charming. “Please sit. We have much to discuss.”
He instructs Reed to take the middle spot, then has me sit on the right.
“I’d offer you refreshments, but it seems most of my staff are permanently indisposed.” He feigns a pout. “Tragically.”
I pout right back at him. “Oh, dear. That’s so sad.” I brighten instantly. “Anyway.”
Despite taking a vow of silence, I couldn’t let that golden opportunity pass. Loki was a fantastic show, and the meme gives me life. I never thought I’d have a chance to use the line in real life.
It was everything I hoped it would be.
Kenzie’s shuffled in next. Like us, her hands are bound in front of her. She keeps her head down until the heavily tattooed repo man shoves her forward. The force sends her to her knees.
She wails in pain, making my heart pinch. On instinct, I stand, preparing to offer her comfort.
Jabali extends his arm to halt my steps. “Don’t.”
That single word, delivered with venom and menace, stops me cold.
I didn’t know evil could be conveyed by sound alone. Fear, in its most primal form, pierces the armor I worked so hard to surround myself in.
My legs tremble, and I lower to the couch. I’m a shell of the woman I was when I stood just seconds ago.
All my bravery vanishes so rapidly, my lungs seize until I force them to expand.
From the floor, Kenzie flicks pleading eyes my way. Mascara streaks down her puffy red cheeks. The skin around one eye is badly swollen. Red swirls from a broken blood vessel have tinged the white surrounding her brown iris.
Reed doesn’t react outwardly. He remains stoic and steady. Either his fury at his sister has rendered him unable to care about her condition, or he’s putting on a brave front.
After Kenzie manages to struggle to her feet, she takes the seat on the other side of Reed.
“Thanks for joining us,” Jabali mocks her through a sneer.
She bares her teeth at him. “Like I had a choice, you fucking asshole!”
“You want the other eye to match?” he taunts in a barbed wire tone.
Kenzie curls in on herself.
Our captor drags over a barstool, setting it about five feet in front of the couch. He climbs on it, facing the three of us.
The scene reminds me of a library story time.
For the first time, he’s physically higher than us. If he had taken a regular chair, he’d still be below us, where he belongs. The humor of that thought begins melting a layer of frozen fear.
I find the courage to address him. “Well, we’re here like you wanted. Now what?”
Kenzie laughs darkly. “As if he knows. The idiot hasn’t had a plan all day.”
“And whose fault is that?” he roars at her, eyes flashing wild. “If you had done what you promised, none of this would have happened. But you failed me. Turns out, Lila isn’t your puppet like you thought, huh?”
Unable to bite my tongue, I whip my head toward Kenzie and snarl. “What did you promise him?”
Carcass throws his head back with murderous laughter. While chuckling like a madman, he tucks his knife into a holster and swaps it for the handgun.
In the next breath, he turns deathly serious. “Go ahead. Tell her.” He points the gun at Kenzie to emphasize his order.
Her eyes fall to the floor, and she mumbles, “I promised I’d get you away from Reed and bring you here so we could find out what you told the FBI.”
Ire coats my throat, making my next question come out scratchy. “Why would you do that?”
Enraged, she screeches her defense. “I was trying to save you from making a stupid mistake and ruining everything. You stopped taking my calls, so I didn’t know what was happening. I figured if I brought you to Carnage, we could work out a plan to fix whatever you fucked up. Together.”
“Together?” I parrot, my volume spiking. “You thought I would want to work together with a murderer. Seriously, Kenzie? For what possible reason?”
“In case you forgot, the plan was for you to get info from him.” She tips her head toward her brother. “Not the other way around.”
Clearly enjoying the show, Jabali saws out a wicked, brittle laugh.
Despite the goosebumps it gives me, I ignore it.
“And in case you forgot, the goal of the plan was to find a way to turn him in to the cops without allowing him to use whatever evidence he had of me marking cards. Because I was an innocent victim, same as you. Or so I thought.” My spine stiffens with indignation, and my nostrils flare. “But you weren’t innocent, were you?”
When she doesn’t deny it, my stomach clinches around a thorny ball. “Was any of it real, Kenzie? Did he even kidnap you to begin with?”
She remains silent and unable to meet my eyes until she hears a bullet click into the chamber. She looks at Jabali with a pleading expression.
He shakes the gun in warning. “What are you waiting for? Confess your sins to your best friend and your brother and then beg for their forgiveness.”