20. Conrad
I left my little doll at home again. Left my wedding ring too.
I run my hand over the empty space where it sits, and it’s curious that I’ve gotten so used to it already that I now notice the absence.
The sun is partially obscured by the clouds. It’s practically a glorious day.
Ordinarily, I wouldn’t be here at this time. It’s easier to attack under the cover of darkness. But word is, this man is fleeing tonight, taking his family with him. And we can’t have that, now can we?
Around me, my men wait on my orders.
It feels good to be Reaping. It feels good to be channelling my frustration into something worthwhile. All evening, my phone has been going off, ringing non-stop. Apparently, my ‘fiancée’ is getting desperate. Like I give a fuck.
My eyes land on the house in question. “Let’s go,” I mutter.
We’re stealthy enough. We keep to the bushes, the hedge line. Stupid bugger has enough coverage that we can practically walk right up to the brickwork without being spotted. Besides, we’ve already isolated their surveillance so right now, their camera’s are showing fuck all.
“Break it down,” I snarl.
One of my men moves forward, using a battering ram to smash the side door in. As the wood shatters, we all barrel inside.
“I want this place secure within five minutes,” I bellow. I’ve no need for secrecy now. Let them come, let them challenge me.
Gunshots ring out. I duck as a hail of bullets narrowly misses my head. Then I take aim and pull the trigger, watching as the guard’s body falls from the balcony, landing in a way that would snap his neck and kill him, if he wasn’t already a goner.
Then it falls quiet, too quiet. I can literally hear the sound of my men breathing as they go from room to bloody room.
Where the fuck are they? I know they haven’t left yet. I know the bastard is still here, somewhere.
“Come out, Lord Upshaw,” I taunt, “Come out now, and I might not let my men take turns fucking your wife…”
It’s beneath me to make such a threat really, but I know it’ll have the desired effect. I know the coward is hiding in here somewhere, I know they all are. As I make my way through their pathetic sized home, I can see all the bags packed. Poor things, they were so close weren’t they? So fucking close.
But God is not on their side. No, God does not favour them.
A movement catches my eye. I turn my head, and see a shadow out the window.
As quickly as I can, I wrench the thing open and pull the person back in as they start screaming. It’s a maid. She lands on her knees, begging me to spare her. To say I’m disappointed is an understatement.
“Where is your master?” I ask. I know this family is poor. At least, poor by Brethren standards. Not all of it is entirely their fault; they weren’t born to immense wealth and circumstance, and bad luck had left them here. It’s why Lord Upshaw was doing what he was, selling us out, selling the Blakes. He’d been passing on enough secrets to the Esau to become a problem.
And we weren’t willing to let it go on any longer. No, an example needed to be made. A line needed to be drawn in the sand.
“He, he…” She stammers, reminding me of my sweet wife only right now, she’s not sweet. She’s being a little bitch, isn’t she?
“He what?” I snarl.
“Safe room,” She whispers, lifting her arm and pointing to a spot that looks innocuous.
Clever man. My lips turn into a smile as I see it; as I see what is hidden in plain sight.
Without looking at her I take my gun, press it to her temple and quick as a flash, I pull the trigger. She makes the tiniest squeak, almost like a mouse and then she’s dead.
I put my fingers to my lips, whistling for my men’s attention, and then I point out to that exact same spot I haven’t taken my eyes off.
It takes barely a minute before they’ve blasted a hole through the fake wall. I’m not that bothered if they harm his family, but I’ll be pissed if Upshaw himself is killed. After all, my brother has need of him.
When the dust settles, we can hear the sound of crying coming through. I jerk my head, standing and watching as the last of their supposed refuge is pulled away.
“Good afternoon,” I say as the wretched family is now turfed out.
“You, you…” Upshaw says, staring at me as if I were an apparition and not a man at all. “Titus will hear of this,” He says.
“I sure hope he will,” I reply before turfing him out, separating him from his wife and daughter who are standing there, looking shell-shocked.
He starts shouting more, fighting as he’s dragged out through the main door and into the waiting van.
When my eyes land back on the wife, I can see she’s terrified. “Please…” She begins.
God, it’s tedious. Always the same old shit. Spare me. Help me. Have mercy on me. As if I would.
I click my fingers, and the guards grab her only she tries to jump, tries to get free, to get to her daughter. They backhand her, and she lands on her knees with her nose streaming out blood.
“Mother,” The girl screams, fighting too now.
“Get them out of here,” I order.
“Wait, please…” The mother begins again, “Not my daughter, please…”
I roll my eyes, turning my back, studying the place and wondering whether I should ransack it or simply burn it down.
“She’s untouched,” the mother screams again. “She’s untouched. You don’t have to do this. I know you’re a good man. I know it, please, spare her. I won’t fight you, I’ll do what you want, just spare my daughter…”
“How noble.” I mutter, looking back around. She’s willing to sacrifice herself for her child? Shame her actions have only put a higher price on the girl’s head, if it is true.
I reach out, beckoning for the girl to be brought to me.
She looks like a petrified animal, her auburn hair smattered with debris. Her eyes dart about, like she’s trying to figure out which one of us is the greatest threat.
My hand grabs her chin, forcing her to look right at me.
“Is it true?” I ask.
She gulps, just as a tear runs down her cheek. It’s poetic. Beautiful.
She’s pretty enough. A smattering of freckles on her face adds to the innocence, and her long hair makes her look younger and yet more seductive at the same time.
“Tell me, girl.” I snap.
“Yes,” She whispers.
I draw in a long breath. “If you’re lying…”
“She’s not.” Her mother hisses. “We kept her pure, we followed all the regulations of the Brethren. She’s old enough to marry too. One of your men…” She trails off pleadingly, as if looking for a volunteer.
“No,” the girl screams, jerking against the hands that hold her.
“You’re offering her as a bride?” I state, more than a little amused now. Less than two days ago, her father was conspiring against us, acting like we were the scum of the earth. Now, her mother suddenly thinks we’re good enough for marriage.
The mother nods. “Yes, she’s a good girl. An obedient one.”
“Mother…” The girl sobs, “I don’t want, I don’t…”
“Better you be one of their wives than a whore in Oblivion.” Her mother hisses back.
My lips curl. I’m tutting before I can stop myself, and they both look at me.
“You think I can make such decisions?” I murmur.
“You’re a Blake.” The mother gasps. “You have the power…”
Even if I did, I wouldn’t.
I drop my gaze, taking in the girl’s body. She’s thick. Curvy. Some men like that, like suffocating beneath fleshy thighs. “She’ll go to the auction.” I state.
“No, no,” I don’t know which one of them says it, if they both say it, but it doesn’t really matter. Their fate is unchanged.
Both of them will go to Oblivion. The mother will become a permanent slave, and the daughter will go on display. Her virginity will fetch a fine price and once she’s spoiled, she’ll join her mother in the halls. They at least will have that.
As I stroll back out, I see the van waiting ahead. I can hear Lord Upshaw banging on the side like someone’s going to simply open it up and let him go after all.
“Someone knock that fucker out,” I snarl. I’ll be damned if I have to listen to him the whole way back to my brother’s house.