I still remember the afternoon that I received that order from the man himself.
Rufus Nosek sits behind a large, mahogany desk. I spent the morning poring over a dossier on his daughter, and could still feel the anger inside of me at the men who would take her. I want to kill them, slaughter them, but I’ll have to be patient.
“Do you know why you’re here, Logan?” Rufus Nosek asks me.
“You want me to save your daughter.”
He smiles at me, a cruel and wicked smile. He’s a harsh man, with thinning gray hair and a traditional black suit. He’s thin and tall and his nose is hooked like a hawk’s beak. He stares at me with those animal eyes and I can’t read him at all, not one bit. He doesn’t seem upset or angry over the disappearance of his daughter, which confuses me more than anything else.
“Not exactly,” he says finally. “Do you want your mission?”
I nod once, unsure of what’s happening.
“I don’t know what your superiors told you,” he continues, “but this mission isn’t to simply rescue my daughter. That’s part of it, of course, and if she dies then you will be held accountable. No, this is more about revenge.”
“Understood,” I say, waiting to hear the rest of the mission.
“Of course,” he says, that smile still on his face. “Your true mission, though, is to gather enough intelligence to take down their entire operation. I want you to dismantle them from the inside. The bastards killed my daughter’s best friend. Her body was found in the river yesterday morning. Nice girl named Lacey. I don’t want that to happen to anyone else, Logan. Get us names, locations, numbers, everything. Only then, once you’re ready to call in your people, will you be allowed to take my daughter from there.”
I watch him quietly for a moment, letting that sink in. His face is still smiling but it doesn’t reach his eyes at all. I can tell that he’s a snake wearing human skin, and he’d do anything to get what he wants.
“I may have to ...do things to keep my cover,” I say slowly, wanting him to understand what he’s asking of me.
“Do whatever you have to do.” He smiles big. “Make sure she doesn’t die. Otherwise, follow your orders.”
I nod and stand. I know what I have to do. I don’t like it, not one bit, but I won’t turn away from a mission. I’m not a weak man. I can do what has to be done.
But I’ve never had a woman’s father give me permission to take his daughter however I want for the greater glory of the mission.
Her father is a monster, but one that believes the means justify the ends. I can see some of him in her, or at least in the way she stares at me with that barely contained ferocity. She’s like a caged animal ready to strike, and that excites me.
I have permission from her father and from my superiors to do whatever must be done. I can’t kill her or let her be killed, but I can hurt her if I want to. I can do even more than that.
I won’t, not if I can avoid it. I won’t hurt her. I may need her to submit, to do things she’s not sure she’s prepared to do, but I won’t hurt her. I’ll win her trust and she’ll willingly play along.
I know she will. It’ll feel too good for her to say no.
“Sit down,” I say to her finally, indicating the chair.
She hesitates then walks over to it. She sits down, hands folded in her lap, back straight. She almost looks like a perfect rich little lady, but I can already see the truth.
Riley is mine. Her body is mine to do with whatever I want, and already I can feel the dirty thoughts pressing in at the corners of my mind. I want to take her, and can right this moment if I really want to.
But that’s not who I am. I won’t let this situation corrupt me any more than it already has. She’ll have to ask for it, beg for it, before I’ll let her have it.
“Do you know why you’re here?” I ask her, standing at the edge of the light.
“No,” she says softly. “I was in a club. Someone gave me a drink. And then ...” She trails off, her eyes haunted.
“You were taken.”
“Yes. I was taken.” She looks at me. “What happened to my friend? Is Lacey okay?”
I cock my head at her, filing that away for later. “Don’t worry about Lacey,” I say. “Worry about yourself.”
“Please,” she whispers. “I need to know.”
“Do you really need me to say it?”
Her face sinks. “She’s dead.”
“And you’ll end up like her if you don’t obey.” I hate doing this to her, but she needs to be broken.
“I’ve been good,” she says, looking down at the floor. “I do what I’m told. I don’t fight back.” She looks back up at me and I get a glimpse of anger before she looks back down. “I just want to survive this.” She’s clearly holding back tears, which is admirable. I’m sure she’s going to grieve her friend, but she doesn’t want to do it in front of me.