Broken Toys | Chapter Thirteen
Theo
Margot's office at Enclave was tastefully decorated, as befitted a woman of her status. Crisp white walls, Berber carpet, ceiling, and a gauzy window treatment. Blood red velvet wingback chairs, heavy mahogany desk. A crystal vase sat on the corner of said desk, red zinnias and hollyhocks emerging forth. She parked herself center on the office furniture, right in front of me. She tried pulling a Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct, crossing and uncrossing her legs to show off her waxed snatch, swinging her legs every now and again in a leisurely manner. I wasn't in the mood to entertain the notion of play. Promised her I'd back her new venture. Today, we're signing the paperwork so she could set up her little social project.
Worry ate at my innards like a ravenous rat. Where was Nyssa? Was she alright? Did they harm her? Rape her? Kill her? What ransom did they want? Who the fuck did it?
"Theo. Focus. You're my favorite investor, and I know that the ideal demographic hits home with you. Speaking of home, how is your little haus frau?"
"Wouldn't know. She's been kidnapped." My hands rested on my lap, yet they longed to wrap around the neck of the fuckers responsible.
Margot sat upright. "Really? Haven't heard anything in the news. Do you know who did it?"
"No. They disabled security, kicked the bejesus out of my bodyguard, and incapacitated me."
"What if it's staged? She wanted to leave you. What if she somehow got a hold of someone who could do something so brazen?"
My mind whirled and I felt like I could puke. No, no, no. Nyssa wouldn't do that. Couldn't do that. She never got the chance. All phones are monitored, no purchases on her credit card. Besides, she wouldn't have lost her driver's license. She'd need that to buy bus tickets or do anything, really. Oh fuck... will a body be found? Where the fuck is she? If she is fucking behind this, woe upon her. She will pay. Bastinado will be the least of her concerns.
I want to know who the fuck is behind my missing wife. I've a person to flay.
"Nyssa didn't have the means to orchestrate her own escape. I've made sure of that. Songbird in a cage."
"What do you plan to do?" Margot slid off the desk and walked to the the large painting hung on the wall behind the desk's chair. It was a mass of swirling black and red with white accents. With a press of a hidden lever, it swung open to reveal the large safe behind the oversized work of art. It had no keypad nor typical lock. It used a USB thumbdrive with an encryption code as a key. The thumbdrive itself was a work of wonder. It looked like a charm on her bracelet, a little silver locket. Pushing on the bail made the plug pop out to fit in the USB slot on the safe. I watched with a skeptical eye as she fiddled with a series of briefcases. She selected one and locked everything up.
"I don't know. Got a private eye who has tracked her to Sacramento. From there, it's gone cold. Driver's license was found and used by some kids to buy booze. Rest of her purse hasn't been located."
"She'll be found. You've given her a taste for creature comforts. As soon as she begins using her credit cards, you'll find her. I won't offer my condolences. Those are reserved for if the worst happens."
"I don't know what's worse... if she's dead or if she's been raped." I heaved I sigh. I didn't want any other man to claim her orgasms. They were mine, just like all of her. Another man between her legs... fucking what is mine... someone has to die. Death is the only answer for a fucknut who encroaches on my property.
"Don't think about it, I'm sure your Nyssa is smart enough to keep a man out of her pants." Margot offered a fake sympathetic smile. I knew she didn't care what happened to Nyssa.
I looked hard at Margot. Doesn't she know that a man hellbent on claiming something he wants as his own won't let anything in his way? "So one can hope."
"Well, would it help to distract you from this topic? Back to business?" She placed the briefcase upon her desk.
"I signed, you signed. Business should be done." Needed to pace in a manic way, that's how agitated I felt. Go home, run on the treadmill until I'm exhausted. Maybe then I'll sleep.
"You are the first of my American investors, Theo. We should celebrate with champagne." First American investor? Who else wants a part of her project? Why does she need more funding? Two million should be more then enough.
"Margot, I don't feel like celebrating. I feel like fucking something up beyond the point of recognition." And her pestering begged for a slap across the mouth. Yet I didn't dare strike her. What she could do with a shoe heel is enough deterrent for me.
"Well, you can't. Might as well have a glass or two with me." From her little mini fridge, she pulled forth a bottle of Dom.
As she searched for champagne flutes, I asked,"What did you mean the first of your American investors?" I didn't want to spend time with Margot, but I did want an answer.
"Oh, it was just an idea I had... the kids who come here can get clothing from my overseas investors. All they want in return are some photos, you know. For promotional materials and catalogs and such. The little ones can get all dolled up, get their pictures taken and take their new stuff home. Everyone wins."
"Innovative, I guess." Left me with an odd feeling.
"That's what I try to be. Now you, go find your wife and fuck her silly. You'll both need it."
"You're a callous bitch, Margot. I love you for it." And hated her for it.
"Yet you love your wife's twat more." The crass way she spoke churned my stomach.
"She's young and moldable." And imperfect. A jewel in need of cutting and polish to be perfect. A gem worthy of a regal setting.
"Just like you were once."
Shaking my head, I murmured, "No more, Margot."
"Says you." The chiding tone just pissed me off more. I needed to bolt or I'd strangle the bitch.
"Yes, says me." And so I left, aching to find the woman who made my life better just by being around.
Nyssa, where are you?