8 Chapter 8 - Razor Edge

"That was rather commendable."

"Quite."

The walls were a drab, humid, faded red, the air heavy with dust, and the lights flashed a different colour before your brain processed the previous one. It made her nauseous. But. Somehow, she could breathe, the room just shy of suffocating, the stares just shy of overwhelming. Low murmurs from the gathered men became merely background noise, used to sooth the last tremors in her hand.

He was out.

For now, her plan had gone without a hitch.

She inhaled deeply. The terrible smell of dead fish that permeated the dammed place invaded her nostrils. Adria held back a cough. She missed the luxurious cologne of her hostage, shoved back into the wide armchair; Adria was short, unfortunately; she could not command the room or the man with her height. It left too many blind spots. Impulsively, she climbed over him again, settling into his lap like they were decades old lovers out on a picnic in a human trafficking compound with a questionable background…

Yeah, that image made her guts roll. Fantastic.

The hushed silence did not last, she should have known the blasted man wouldn't keep his mouth shut for long. He had a gift for being glib.

"They said you were insane, but I can hardly begin to believe it. You played your cards far too well."

"I do not have any cards, Mr...?"

Perhaps, the need for a distraction was far greater than her virtue to remain aloof. Adria could not help it; the same way she could not help throwing eggs over the fence on Mrs Hussey's perfectly lovely garden (she was a menace, as she'd told her sister countless times, a horrible menace). It could ruin everything, her distraction. She knew. But she's spoiled. He had followed along the piped piper path Adria had set so beautifully. He could have snatched the gun back at any point, for Adria had lost sight of everything, submerged in a bubble made solely of Victor.

Instead, he watched as she slowly made gaps in his ranks. Indifferently.

"Noah, call me Noah," he said.

She wouldn't use that name. Too much familiarity. Too much power to give.

There was a look in his eyes, it broke shivers down her back. He felt it too, his hot palm splayed on her skin, pulling Adria in until her breath whizzed out. She ignored it, for such were the conditions of holding power. Play or be played. She'd rather be the game master holding the keys.

Adria cleared her throat.

"Look, those two over there were whispering," he pointed at two of the guards leaning closer to the exit, a bit apart from the other men.

She knew them, had seen them in passing.

The tall, lanky kid had acne spread across his rosy cheeks, matted brown hair and a pair of memorable hazel eyes. He was nothing special. However, he was one of the kinder fellows – never humiliated a girl, never forced one either. Whispers followed him, whispers of an absent father, a dying mother, and a gaggle of siblings.

The other man was shorter than anyone else, had a willowy frame, and wore rounded glasses. He was tanned, his hair cropped short and his eyes an unremarkable brown. He had a mean streak when it came to men, but for the most part he blended in with the crowd. He was strong too. Adria had seen the way he'd lifted two boxes of supplies filled to the brim, no one around to see, without breaking a sweat.

"They said you were more animal than human, and the shorty over there was particularly worried you'd get slobber on my suit."

"Oh."

She didn't really care. They were arguably the only decent men in the facility. Adria had not missed the glee in the man's eye as she shot the men, perhaps to him this was all great entertainment. Workers could be found just about anywhere. Except. She'd seen the way fatty Rick had brutally executed one of the braver girls that had, in a moment of panic, decapitated one of the guards. He took care of them, too. In the same way a family member would. Bought them whatever they requested, turned a blind eye to anyone dipping their fingers in the product, and allowed them freedom to go just about anywhere. Not the basement, though. That was off limits to higher ups only.

"Why do I get the feeling that you don't particularly mind if I shoot your men?"

"Because I do not. You are terribly amusing, and they come by the dozen. They know that dying comes with the work description."

"Ricky seemed to think otherwise."

"Ricky is a fat, stupid, cowardly man. How do you think he gets any respect around here?"

Indeed, he had a point. Ricky was many terrible things, but he was a coward at heart. Terrified of a little girl if she so much as bared her teeth at him. It's why Adria had gotten away with a lot of the shit she did. Eddie had seen the effect Adria had on his stupid boss, and to showcase that to the patrons, the guards, and the women would mean to open the door for anyone to trample on their legacy. He had been the one to suggest Adria be locked away.

Oh, how he must be cursing her.

Adria glanced down at the phone, the live feed showing the front of the truck where a sleepy Victor was nestled into the passenger door. Eddie was partially cut out, only an arm visible. An hour had passed before she'd dared take her eyes off the screen. Surprisingly, Noah had kept quiet, sensing the tension coiled in her body.

Adria had felt ready to spring at the smallest hint of trouble.

She'd handed the toddler to a man she barely had the time to scope out. If anything went wrong Adria would be too far away to do naught but watch. Feeling the queasiness build up, she pressed her face to her hostage's shoulder. She breathed in, counted to six, then released the air.

"There, there," he said, massaging the back of her neck where the tension was at its highest.

Adria groaned.

"Is life a perpetual joke to you?"

Noah shrugged, dislodging her head from the comfortable perch. He must have that silly smirk on, she thought.

Adria blinked slowly, a heaviness settling over the lids until she could almost feel the tell – tale sign of slumber. She was warm, covered, and Victor's whiny voice in her ear. Sleep sounded like a fantastic idea…

Adria jumped up, bringing the phone closer.

Victor had stirred from the ball he'd curled in, petulantly crying something about food and tiredness – she should have thought of this ahead! Of course, the child would tire and of course Eddie would stoically ignore him. His cries raised in volume and when that did not work, Victor took to banging the dash. Eddie scowled, swore something about 'fucking kids', and gripped his hand. Tightly.

Adria's knuckles turned white.

She dialled his number, slowly, calmly. A storm brewing inside her. No. Punishment was best served cold. Eddie swore, dropped the tiny hand, and pulled over. He fumbled with the phone, the black brick he kept for calls, took a moment to adjust his expression and answered with a soft hello.

"Edward dear, am I on speaker?"

He cleared his throat, the Adam's apple on his skinny neck visibly bobbing.

She wasn't on speaker. She knew that already.

"No."

"Lovely. I have a question, Edward; who is your most prized worker?"

"Stanley."

The man's jaw dropped; horror stricken. He shook his head, mouthing no.

Adria sighed. How she hated playing cat and mouse – did she look particularly stupid to him?

Lazily, she shot at random. It hit a man in the thigh, his legs gave in, and the others jumped up to support him. Aw, how sweet.

Eddie remained stoic.

"He is lying."

"I know," she said.

She turned her attention to the lined men, shifting warily in place, and found ginger hair sticking out from behind two taller men. Bingo. She waved the men out of the way. They did not move. Adria shot them in the knee. The mousy teenager trembled, looking like a daisy among tall grass.

But looks were deceiving.

That foul mouthed brat was the most vicious of them all.

"Tell me Edward, do you know what happens if you cross me?"

He paled considerably. Eddie gripped the steering wheel, to hide his twitching fingers. It was a tick, she'd noticed, he did it anytime he felt nervous. It's why he never did get higher up than Mike.

"Allow me to enlighten you," she said lightly, "Every time you fuck up, one of your men die."

He swallowed but regained his composure. Aha, he thought she was still in the dark.

Adria considered herself quite normal, yes, she was a perpetual pessimist and realist, but she still felt normal. Thank you very much. She was not prone to violence as much as everyone thought. She was a gentle soul really. So, the glee she felt bubble in her stomach was a by-product of her circumstances. She threw her head back and laughed. Loudly. Obnoxiously.

"Let me tell you a little secret Edward. I know. But I do wander how long it will take me to get to the ginger? One man? Two? Three?"

She shot a man with every number, laughing like a witch as he flinched harder with every bang. They fell like dominoes. She refused to look twice, knowing that her shot had held true, and they were as dead as they could be. Her mouth was dry. She put her elbow on Noah's shoulder, to hide the shaky hold she had on it.

Adria stopped at the teenager.

He was just a year younger than the other kid, yet ten times worse. The bloody little monster thought the compound to be his playground. He had tried to mess with Adria in that horrible first week – and she had been willing to let him get away with coping a feel at her ass, until he'd raised his fist against Victor. To put it lightly, Adria had not been kind. The fucker had a nasty scar from his mouth to his ear, curtesy of her kindness.

"Should I shoot him?"

Eddie breathed in sharply, his complexion waxen.

Adria grinned.