C: That's because she is.
D: Then why is she part of your Club?
C: The Club chooses you, you don't choose the Club.
Fucking smartass.
D: Did you get all the information you needed from Nina.
C: Yes. But I'm just putting this out there, her and I will never be friends.
D: Not all soldiers deserve the respect of their Empress.
It struck me how much I liked texting Corinne - liked having someone as a sounding board.
D: What time are you back?
C: Girls and I are grabbing lunch first and then we're coming home.
That didn't give me a lot of time to get the fucker home.
I pulled up to the warehouse that still boasted crater size chunks missing from its exterior - at least on the side.
The men had made fast work of cleaning all the product off the floors, windows, and ceilings, but it was still a long way away from being repaired.
And in the dim of the warehouse, surrounded by the left over carnage from our own war, sat Thomas. He was bound against a chair, his lip was bleeding, and judging by the way his breath stuttered out of him on each exhale, I'd bet that he had a few broken ribs.
Thomas Payne had been making a name for himself up and down the bayou. Unfortunately, his illegal activities crossed the line with a string of missing girls across Louisiana, all under the age of eight-years-old.
I never claimed to be a saint and revelled in every sin I committed, but if I had to think of one man that Corinne would deem deserving of death, it would be him.
"Hello, Thomas." I stepped beneath the dimly lit bulb, allowing the lighting to illuminate my face. Let him see who he was dealing with.
His bruised face met mine, and I saw the flickering of recognition in his gaze. Good. The fucker knew who I was - knew that I ran this town.
"I didn't do nothing." His weak arms strained against the ropes that bound him, and I caught Ravi's gaze on the other side of the chair.
This wasn't Ravi's first rodeo and he had bound Thomas' hands and ankles together before strapping him to the chair.
The blubbering idiot thought that I was here to save him - that I believed his gibberish, and as I sawed through the ropes, he seemed emboldened by my actions and simply would not shut up.
"They asked for it, you know?"
He licked his lips, my silence only serving to encourage his justifications, and if I thought for even one moment that Corinne would not recoil in horror from my actions, I would have cut out his tongue and delivered the sick bastard to her unable to speak.
It was only when the insulation tape pressed against his lips that he began to thrash, the dawning realization that I wasn't on his side and that I didn't believe him finally setting in.
I ordered the driver to pull in around the back and hoisted Thomas across my shoulders. He was all bones and sinew, and as I marched to my car with a bound pedophile dangling from my back, I wondered when exactly Thomas fell into drugs, and then I wondered if they were mine.
If Corinne wanted roses, I would give her roses, but I knew that my little Vedman needed this. She was far darker than she ever seemed to want to acknowledge, and if some of that darkness frightened her? Well, that was what I was there for.
I lowered Thomas into the boot and stood back as his thrashing made a grand clanging sound each time his boot hit the interior panelling. That wouldn't fucking do. I sighed, filled with annoyance and resignation as I pressed the needle into his thigh and watched the fight drain out of him before me.
I didn't say anything - couldn't - because what if I was wrong? What of Corinne didn't want to murder Thomas, even if he deserved far worse than death.
Instead, I watched them debate all afternoon about what animal Corinne should sacrifice.
Zoey, I noted, did not offer up a single suggestion, clearly disturbed by the thought of murder - even if it was vermin.