His insides twisted, fingers slacked, as he scrutinized the burning cigarette in Slater’s hand. His determination weakened. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“None of your business, Master!” Sucking the air through his teeth, Slater hissed, “Fix the mess, Master, or you are useless.”
Pointing a cigarette at his wrist Slater imprinted the burning tip into his skin. His chest contracting, pushing out a labored breath, but his face relaxed, softened.
“Who paid you to do this?” Tearing the cigarette out of Slater’s fingers, Talha flicked it aside.
“Paid me?” Slater laughed. “No one paid me, Master. Slater did it because Slater wanted to do it.”
Snatching another cigarette out of the pack, Slater squeezed it between his lips, then stroked the lighter. Sucking a few deep breaths in, he waited until the end of the cigarette smoldered, then crushed it against his forearm.
“Stop it!” Talha snapped, seizing his elbow, and Slater spun around. With one refined move of his free hand, he shook off Talha’s grip.
“Slater is thirsty. Slater wants to kill. When Slater feels nothing, Slater is bored. Slater needs pain and pleasure to keep entertained. Master doesn’t want to entertain, so Master has to clean the mess. Give me more contracts, Master, or Slater will find other ways to keep himself amused.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“No, Master. You wanted business, here it is. I’ll kill for you, but you make sure I don’t have problems with the police. You clean the mess, so Slater can kill more, and you can have Iblīs. Slater is too thirsty to survive on his own. Slater needs a capable Master who will protect Slater, who will control Slater. But Talha doesn’t get it. Talha wants to take but not give. Talha doesn’t want to entertain Slater. If you can’t do even this, then Talha isn’t good for Slater.” Flicking the cigarette to the floor, Slater moved for the door. “Find me more contracts, Master.”
For the first time since Slater’s appearance in his house, the ripper didn’t try to enter Talha’s room, but instead of long-awaited relief, Talha felt a knot of alertness forming in the depth of his stomach. The morning came after a restless, sleepless night; Talha fetched his phone and dialed Ejder.
“Find me a sadistic male escort. Slater is frustrated.”
“A-Abi, he is too much tro-ouble. Why don’t you put him do-own?” The way Ejder spoke through his nose and stretched the vowels suggested he was tired.
“Why should I?” Talha asked. “For the first time, I know what he wants. He brought Istanbul to Behçet. He will bring me Europe. I just have to learn how to use him. If anyone could handle Iblīs, wouldn’t it be disappointing?”
EJDER CAME WITH THE DUSK, bringing along a tall, tanned man with shoulder-length hair and confident black eyes.
“Go into that room and wait there,” Talha pointed to the wooden door of Slater’s bedroom on the first floor, then faced Ejder.
Humming, the man didn’t argue, but gave Talha a slow once over and then Ejder, obviously wondering whom he was supposed to please. When no one followed him, he wavered in front of the door, but still entered the room.
“Slater?” Talha called, adding a demand into his voice. “Come!”
The silence stretched for a few minutes before Slater stepped out of the kitchen. Holding a glass of milk in his hand, he crunched a cookie.
“What?” He sounded displeased as if he’d been disturbed. Talha frowned.
“Go into your room. There is a man waiting. He is here to satisfy your needs.” Talha said; his gaze glued to Slater’s face.
The uncertain smile that touched Slater’s lips grew wider until it froze in a toothy grin, and a neurotic knot in Talha’s guts slowly released. Cocking his head, Slater halted with a cookie halfway to his mouth. “Master brought me... a whore?”
He sniggered, shaking with his whole body. Slinking up to Talha, he shoved the glass of milk and the unfinished cookie into his hands, then stole toward his room.
Talha smiled at his brother. If the male escort could keep Slater in a good mood, Talha wouldn’t mind paying him full time.
“Wanna help me with dinner? If Slater is happy, I think you can return home.”
A DOOR SLAMMING into its frame shattered the silence. Putting a knife aside, Talha glanced at Ejder. Receiving a slight shrug at his silent question, he skulked out of the kitchen.
Standing in the middle of the hall, Slater shook the blood of his karambit, then wiped it against his pants before sheathing it behind his back. Noticing Talha, he grinned. “Thank you, Master, your gift was delicious.”
Smudges of blood covered his face as if someone had been trying to push him away with bloody hands. Dark spots marred his messy clothes, and a trail of bloody footprints stretched through the hall from the door of his bedroom to where he stood.
“What the fuck have you done?” Talha’s heart sunk. He stormed toward the bedroom and inched the door open. Red splashes of blood decorated the blue Persian carpets, walls, and the golden bedspread. Mutilated and disfigured, the body lay on the floor with his arms spread and guts out. Unable to tolerate the view and the sickening stench of blood and bile, Talha shut the door.
Slater didn’t reply, as all his attention was directed to the aisle that led to the kitchen. Standing in the doorway, Ejder pointed a gun at Slater’s head.
“Huh?” Slater chuckled; his palm curled up, and a black throwing needle slipped between his fingers. “A little boy hiding behind a gun. Come, you will die first.”
Tongue stuck to his pallet, Talha rushed to him and grabbed Slater’s hand the same moment Ejder pulled the trigger. Slater shifted and the bullet, catching the strands of his hair smashed against a marble wall.
Disregarding the black muzzle pointed at his back, Slater spun around and faced Talha. A needle, squeezed in his fist, swished through the air as Slater thrust his hand forward, using it like a knife. In the last moment, Talha reared back. The edge of the needle passed an inch away from his throat.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” Slater’s voice lowered to a dangerous whisper as he bared his teeth. “Talha is stupid! Talha is useless! No one has ever insulted Slater like this. The deal is off.”
“Ejder, leave!” Talha ordered. Grabbing Slater’s hand, he yanked it to himself. Installing eye contact, he captured Slater’s attention.
“But Abi…”
“Leave! NOW!” Talha snapped. Wavering, Ejder moved out of his sight, and in a heartbeat, the door clicked closed. At that moment, Talha prayed that Ejder would listen to him and go to his girlfriend. Unable to predict the outcome of the situation, he needed Ejder to be as far away from Slater as possible.
One on one with Slater, Talha felt the gravity of responsibility lifting from his chest. Boring into the large pupils of the ripper, he said, “No, the deal’s not off. I have been patient with you. I have wasted my time on you. I have tolerated your shit all these days trying to understand what the fuck you want! I have the blood of so many people on my name because of you! You want pain? I’m in a generous mood.”
Clenching his fist, he sent the first jab to Slater’s face, but the younger man, slightly inclining his torso back, let the punch cut the air.