Larke When I left my job as a federal prosecutor to start my own organization where I worked with private investigators, local police departments, and The Justice Department in order to find missing girls of color, I’d had buckets of fears but no regrets. I’d modeled my mission off that of The Innocence Project, using [...]
She wanted to squeal with joy but swallowed her elation, saving it for the rest of the conversation. In her mind, however, a song still played. He'd been loved all along. His mother had been there all along.
Giveaway Alert!
A fourth carried a modified chair with an insert she knew was meant for Aleksi. There were at least twenty, with more pouring in by the handful. She glanced at Giorgio’s hand. It twitched, and then stopped moving. "Oh no."
The man nodded, continued. "Yes, of course. Miss Bayeux, you have challenged Mo to a fight to the death. Mo, you have accepted."
Helmine’s bony fingers came together on the desktop, her gaze like a laser in Giorgio’s direction. “Your mother was the youngest daughter of the woman my husband swore, one day, he would kill. She was from a little city in Italy called Pozza. Have you ever heard of it?”
The man nodded, continued. "Yes, of course. Miss Bayeux, you have challenged Mo to a fight to the death. Mo, you have accepted."
Bodies fell around him, courtesy of Gage’s deadly accuracy. Somewhere. Someone stepped into his path and Giorgio whipped the blade through the air, not caring on which part of the body it landed.
He was not a normal man nor would he pretend to be. He was a deviant. A demon. A miscreation borne from a mother he would never know and a father who'd spilled evil with each release of his seed.
The table she was lying on felt made of metal, surgical instruments were on a counter next to where the man worked, and a light at the end of a flexible tube was pointed between her legs. She needed to get to those surgical tools. All she required was something that could cut through the leather on her arms and then pierce human flesh. An eyeball
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