…” someone said, but there was no strength in the voice. Zoey slid the stack of towels over a bit so she could hear better.
“Just wait,” he said, words slurring, sounding wet, thick.
She recognized the voice. She pushed the towels aside and pushed open the closet door. Moving slowly, her joints cracking and protesting, she peeked out into the shower area.
James was staring up at her with his undamaged eye, a stunned expression on his face. “I’ll be damned,” he muttered, his grin revealing bloodied teeth. “Zoey.”
Still wasn’t sure she wanted to climb out. Was this a trap? A test? Had he somehow known she was hiding there?
She exited the closet feet first. Droplets of blood plinked to the floor, formed tiny circles and crowns.
James laughed and then doubled over and clutched his stomach, a phlegmy cough wracking him.
The tingling in her legs was fierce, a swarm of yellow jackets beneath her skin. Landing on her feet sent currents through her body.
“Aren’t you resourceful?” he said, and she saw something new on his face: fear.
Was he afraid of her ? More likely he was afraid of the situation. Not that he didn’t deserve to die a slow and agonizing death, and not that she hadn’t fantasized torturing him to death. She outweighed him, and he was in sorry shape. Killing him now would be easy.
She sat next to him on the floor. “We’re alone?”
He nodded.
“Care to explain, James?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing.”
“Who are these pricks?”
“Clients. Very rich, disgruntled clients. Customers.” Gingerly he touched his eye, badly swollen, dribbling pus. “These guys are our regulars. They come here to have some fun.”
“Fun?” The desire to claw his face off returned. She glanced at the bathroom door, hoping she’d have time to hide if they came back.
“I’m sorry, Zoey. This got out of hand.”
“You have a knack for understatement, James. How did this happen? You outnumber them. You got more guards than—”
“They have guns.”
She hadn’t seen guns. But it made sense. How else would they have been able to overpower James and his staff?
“This is really bad news,” he said, gently wiping the blood off his cheek with his palm. “These guys are seriously disturbed.”
“Oh, and you’re not?”
“These guys make me look like a priest. Wait—bad example.”
“I get the idea.”
“The last time he was here, Serge—the one with the diaper fetish—”
“I know him well.”
“Last time, he approached me with the idea of making a snuff film. I thought he was kidding.”
Zoey narrowed her eyes. “You thought he was kidding? Who jokes about that?”
“I know. But I told him no way. He said fine, he understood. I thought that was the end of it. These guys pay huge amounts of money for their visits. I usually look the other way when they want to try strange things. Besides, they’re not exactly pillars of society. Zack’s deeply involved in the drug scene, not the kind of guy you want to fuck with. So to speak.”
“Comforting. Do you have any idea whatsoever in that psycho fucked-up head of yours how wrong all of this is? Including your bizarre idea of a weight loss program?”
James shifted uncomfortably. “There have been studies, Zoey. Women who lose weight have said they’re rather lose a limb than gain it back. This is an extreme weight loss plan.”
“That seems to be your motto around here. You really are insane.”
“No.” He shook his head. “I’m not. I’m quite sane. But I am a sociopath.” He smiled at that.
“I thought you said you were some filthy rich asshole with too much time on his hands.”
“I am.”
“Then why do you care about the money? About them paying you a fortune?”
“I don’t. It was just a statement. I don’t need the money, but I wanted others to have this experience. Paying the amount they do somehow legitimizes this.”
She rolled her eyes, turned away. “You really believe
“Just wait,” he said, words slurring, sounding wet, thick.
She recognized the voice. She pushed the towels aside and pushed open the closet door. Moving slowly, her joints cracking and protesting, she peeked out into the shower area.
James was staring up at her with his undamaged eye, a stunned expression on his face. “I’ll be damned,” he muttered, his grin revealing bloodied teeth. “Zoey.”
Still wasn’t sure she wanted to climb out. Was this a trap? A test? Had he somehow known she was hiding there?
She exited the closet feet first. Droplets of blood plinked to the floor, formed tiny circles and crowns.
James laughed and then doubled over and clutched his stomach, a phlegmy cough wracking him.
The tingling in her legs was fierce, a swarm of yellow jackets beneath her skin. Landing on her feet sent currents through her body.
“Aren’t you resourceful?” he said, and she saw something new on his face: fear.
Was he afraid of her ? More likely he was afraid of the situation. Not that he didn’t deserve to die a slow and agonizing death, and not that she hadn’t fantasized torturing him to death. She outweighed him, and he was in sorry shape. Killing him now would be easy.
She sat next to him on the floor. “We’re alone?”
He nodded.
“Care to explain, James?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing.”
“Who are these pricks?”
“Clients. Very rich, disgruntled clients. Customers.” Gingerly he touched his eye, badly swollen, dribbling pus. “These guys are our regulars. They come here to have some fun.”
“Fun?” The desire to claw his face off returned. She glanced at the bathroom door, hoping she’d have time to hide if they came back.
“I’m sorry, Zoey. This got out of hand.”
“You have a knack for understatement, James. How did this happen? You outnumber them. You got more guards than—”
“They have guns.”
She hadn’t seen guns. But it made sense. How else would they have been able to overpower James and his staff?
“This is really bad news,” he said, gently wiping the blood off his cheek with his palm. “These guys are seriously disturbed.”
“Oh, and you’re not?”
“These guys make me look like a priest. Wait—bad example.”
“I get the idea.”
“The last time he was here, Serge—the one with the diaper fetish—”
“I know him well.”
“Last time, he approached me with the idea of making a snuff film. I thought he was kidding.”
Zoey narrowed her eyes. “You thought he was kidding? Who jokes about that?”
“I know. But I told him no way. He said fine, he understood. I thought that was the end of it. These guys pay huge amounts of money for their visits. I usually look the other way when they want to try strange things. Besides, they’re not exactly pillars of society. Zack’s deeply involved in the drug scene, not the kind of guy you want to fuck with. So to speak.”
“Comforting. Do you have any idea whatsoever in that psycho fucked-up head of yours how wrong all of this is? Including your bizarre idea of a weight loss program?”
James shifted uncomfortably. “There have been studies, Zoey. Women who lose weight have said they’re rather lose a limb than gain it back. This is an extreme weight loss plan.”
“That seems to be your motto around here. You really are insane.”
“No.” He shook his head. “I’m not. I’m quite sane. But I am a sociopath.” He smiled at that.
“I thought you said you were some filthy rich asshole with too much time on his hands.”
“I am.”
“Then why do you care about the money? About them paying you a fortune?”
“I don’t. It was just a statement. I don’t need the money, but I wanted others to have this experience. Paying the amount they do somehow legitimizes this.”
She rolled her eyes, turned away. “You really believe
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