Page 74 of Reset

“You should, you know. Because, as CEO of the company, I have access to a lot of interesting drugs. Ones that couldn’t be traced back to me, if I happened to use them.”

His eyes shifted left then right, a hint that she was making him nervous. “What the hell do I care what drugs you take?”

“Oh, they wouldn’t be for me. They would be for you. In fact, that email I just sent.” She waggled her phone, with its black case that looked so good against her dark red nails. “It was to order some drugs for you. My assistant is organizing them for me now.”

“You’re full of shit. There’re no drugs, and you ain't gonna use them on me. People like you follow the rules.” He snorted. “Send in the men. You’re wasting my time, bitch.”

“You really do have a potty mouth, don’t you? And a disdain for showering.”

“Fuck off.”

“I will, once we’re done. Tell me, Mr. Prentice, have you heard of something called chemical castration?”

For the first time since she’d entered the room, he looked genuinely wary. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Rachel curled her lip at his language. Honestly, if this was what an American education got you these days, then it was no wonder the country was going downhill.

“It’s really quite fascinating as a medical procedure,” Rachel said, appearing bored. “Some people advocate the long-term approach, where an inmate—because we’re talking sexual offenders here—is forced to take pills or is given regular injections to achieve castration. I favor the speedier approach. One injection, straight to the testicles.”

He turned gray. “You’re a fucking psycho, bitch.”

“True.” She inclined her head. “Do you know what chemical castration does? It eliminates any sexual desire you might have for whatever hairy creature of the night you mate with. It also vastly reduces the testosterone zipping through your veins, which will turn you into a frightened little kitten who cries when people threaten him.” She looked thoughtful. “I don’t imagine that would be helpful in your line of work.”

“You wouldn’t,” he sneered. “You think I’m gonna fall for this shit, you’re mistaken.”

“Look around you,” Rachel said. “Nobody knows you’re here. I can do whatever I want, secure in the knowledge that you’d never go to the police, would you, Mr. Prentice?”

“I’d fucking kill you, bitch.”

“Not if you were crying like a baby and too scared to leave your house. I bet the other mercenaries wouldn’t even play with you anymore. You’d be the laughing stock of your community and hardly a threat to anyone. Let alone a woman who’s surrounded with the best security money can buy. I’m afraid your threats are as lame as your sexual prowess would be. Shame.”

Rachel wasn’t impressed by the stunned look of horror on his face. He wasn’t nearly as scared as he should be. Because she wasn’t bluffing. She’d use any drug her company produced on the man to make him talk—even if it landed her in jail. Not that it would, of course. She had money and upper-class connections that wouldn’t allow such a thing to happen.

“But I’m forgetting the best part,” Rachel told the worm staring at her as she leaned forward, closing the distance between them as if imparting a secret. “The part I personally enjoy the most is that the injection causes testicular atrophy.” She held up a hand to forestall any questions, not that he seemed eager to talk. “I realize you probably don’t know what that word means, so I’ll explain. Your testicles, or balls if you prefer, will shrivel and die on your body. They’ll become a black mass of dead, rotting flesh under your flaccid, useless penis.” She sat back in her seat and folded her arms as she smiled. “Isn’t modern medicine wonderful?”

He gaped at her as sweat broke out on his brow. Strangely, he seemed to have run out of things to say.

Thankfully, there wouldn’t be an awkward silence because Rachel wasn’t finished. “Of course, you won’t have the courage to seek medical help for the issue, but it wouldn’t do you any good anyway. The process is irreversible.” Her phone chimed, and she beamed as she checked the screen. “Excellent, the drugs are on their way.”

She picked up her bag and stood, smoothing her skirt as she faced him. “I won’t be here for this part. I don’t have any desire to see your sexual organ. The men will hold you down and perform the injection. I hear it’s painful but, in my opinion, worth it. Now, I really must go. I have a facial at ten.”

As she strode toward the door, Prentice shouted. “Fuck it, I’ll talk.”

Rachel smiled over her shoulder. It was her shark smile. The one that told people she was just about to eat them. “Oh, I’m sorry. I no longer care if you’ll cooperate. You’re a vile, uncouth bull of a man who confuses muscle for intelligence. And, you aren’t the only person who can tell us where Ryan is. You wasted your opportunity to talk. Now, I only want to see you suffer.”

With that, she unlocked the door and stepped outside, closing it quietly behind her.

Five horrified men stood in front of her, staring at her with a mixture of fear and revulsion. Beside them was a bouncing Elle and a grinning Megan.

“That was awesome,” Elle said. “Do it again!”

“I would have just used an elastic band,” Megan said. “No circulation. No penis.”

“Aye,” Callum said with a grimace, “we remember.”

“Is that true?” Dimitri looked shaken. “About the one injection to ruin a man’s life?”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Rachel said and watched as the men’s shoulders slumped in relief. “It takes a few injections to cause atrophy. Although, I’m sure you could up the dose to achieve the same result faster.”