Tia woke up with her head pounding, eyesight blurry. She shook her head but that only hurt more, bringing little clarity and more pain. Her mouth was dry, and she didn’t know why until her opened jaws began to strain. That was when Tia realized that she was gagged, a thick wedge of cloth cleaved between her teeth. She reached up to pull it out, but the metal of the cuffs dug into her wrists, arms immobile behind her.

Tia leaned back to feel Marcus’s size and weight behind her, his arms pressed against hers, his body leaning forward.

“Marcus,” she tried to say, the name muffled in her gagged mouth, tongue pressed down against her lower jaw. “Marcus!”

“He’s out like a light.” Tia looked up to see Barbara standing over her with a glass of wine in one hand and a satisfied smile on her pretty face. “Surprised?”

Tia jerked forward, looking over to see her ankles cuffed in front of her. Her cuffed wrists were weaved between Marcus’s, each unwittingly holding the other in place.

“Don’t bother,” Barbara said, draining her glass and pouring herself another. “You’re not going anywhere.” Tia tried again, her struggle futile. “Oh, come on, Ms. McBride, you of all people should know what a pair of handcuffs can do. And those are genuine, federal government-issued cuffs, none of that fur-lined bullshit you probably use. Those babies don’t quit.”

Tia sat there, unable to escape but unwilling to be lorded over. But gagged and cuffed, Marcus dead to the world behind her, Tia had no choice.

Barbara said, “I know what you’re thinking: is this bitch crazy? Well, the answer to that is simple: I’m no crazier than you or any of your sick clients.” Barbara set the wine bottle down and took another sip from her glass, standing up to pace leisurely around the penthouse. “This is quite a place you have here, Tia; I’m very impressed. I like your man too, by the way. I’ll bet he fucks like a silverback gorilla, am I right?” She smiled and Tia glared, the answer passing between them.

Barbara went on, “You live like a goddamned queen, and you do it breaking the law. Oh, I know, you don’t actually technically charge for the sex your company provides, but that’s a sick loophole and you know it. Meanwhile I make about as much as a kindergarten teacher, I live in a basement apartment in New Jersey!”

Tia leaned back, trying to nudge Marcus to wakefulness. “What do you think he’s gonna do,” Barbara said, “bust out of his cuffs and throw me out the window? You’re really not as smart as you come off, are you? You didn’t clock me at all, but I’ve been watching you for weeks now. You really think that was a coincidence, me bumping into you on the street after you called in that bomb threat at the Michelangelo hotel? I was following you, Tia, tracking your every move. I’ve been watching your kinky trysts with the big man here; well, I know they happened anyway. I wasn’t privy to any of the details, sad to say.”

Tia looked away, not content to let Barbara simply gloat. But there was no avoiding her, leering and hovering and sipping that wine. “Who did you think sent you those dolls?” Tia turned, unable to hide her surprise. “It wasn’t difficult. Your doorman downstairs lets me come and go and won’t say a word about it. I’m the IRS; you’d be surprised how easy it is to get people to help me out. You think you’ve got power? You’re a pimp, Tia, but I’m the taxman, I’m prison, I’m the fucking law! And the good guy always wins in cases like this, Tia.”

Barbara paced around the living room. “I think I’ll enjoy living here. And as for running your company? I’ve got a business degree from Boston University; I’ll be able to handle it just fine. The other company too; I’ll bet he’s raking in those Eurodollars. I’m thinking of a rebrand though, something a little…sexier. How about LustCo, or maybe MysteryMan.com. I mean, you gotta have a strong web presence, am I right?”

There was a knock on the front door, Tia trying to scream out for help, her pleas muffled by the gag. Barbara set down the wine glass and walked slowly toward the door. “Who is it?”

“Barbara, it’s me!” Barbara looked around, eyes shifting, lips tight over her teeth. “Let me in, Barbara.”

“Go away, John, this is a social call.”

No answer came from the other side, and Barbara stepped away from the door. But the door snapped open behind her, John stepping into the room. Barbara backed up, hands up. “John, what’s going on here?”

John Gallen glanced at Tia and Marcus, sitting cuffed on the floor, then turned his attention back to Barbara. “You’re asking me that? Barbara, what the hell are you doing?”

“She deserves it, John; they both do! You know it!”

“No, Barbara! I warned you about this; you’ve lost your damn mind!”

“You don’t understand, John! It’s not just me; they’re ruining people lives!”

John shook his head, glancing fearfully at Tia and Marcus. “Barbara, you’re not making any sense!”

“My brother, John! His wife did this stupid thing and it ruined their marriage. She left him afterward, John, dumped him flat, took half his money. And you know what happened to him after that, John?”

“Barbara, your brother was…that was unfortunate, but you can’t lay it all at the feet of these two people here, you just can’t!”

“Why not?”

“If she cheated on him then it wasn’t just her, Barbara, or them. Their marriage had problems; something was bound to happen. She was going to leave him anyway.” After a tense moment passed, John added, “With the drinking and the anger issues, he was unstable, we both know it.”

“Barbara,” John said in a quieter tone, “take a look around you, Barbara. This is kidnapping, it’s wrong.”

“It’s justice,” Barbara said.

“It’s revenge,” John snapped back, “and it’s life in prison, Barbara.” Barbara looked at Tia and Marcus, finally beginning to waken behind her, groaning and slowly straightening his posture.

“John, think about it, we can run their businesses together. Fuck the government; all this could be ours!”

“Then we’d be no better than they are! Think for a minute, Barbara!” Barbara turned away, her gaze falling toward the center of the room. “Look, we can fix this. You’re obviously…you’re deranged, but that’s okay, we’ll tell them you went kinda crazy, temporary insanity, PTSD, something like that. It’s obviously true.” A quiet moment passed before John added, “It won’t be so bad, Barbara, some time in a hospital; they’ll get you all the help you need.”

Barbara stood, stunned and stumped, eyes wide, mouth small, lower lip quivering.

“Give me the keys, I’ll release them, we’ll get this all straightened out, okay?”

Barbara seemed unable to answer, overwhelmed by the sudden realization of what she’d done, of how far over the line she’d stumbled.

“I-I just wanted to help…”

“Okay, that’s fine, Barbara, fine, just forget about the whole thing; we’ll tell everyone you wanted to help, you were upset about your brother.”

Barbara turned slowly to him. “You’d do that for me? Even after—?”

“Of course, Barbara. We’re partners, we’re friends. You’re a good person, Barbara, I know that. This…this was a mistake, but I’m going to help you to correct it, okay?

“Okay,” Barbara said in a nervous hush, “okay…”

John nodded and pulled out his smartphone, swiping the screen. But Barbara’s turn was much quicker, grabbing the stun gun and ramming it at John’s arm. He dropped the phone and spun just in time to grab Barbara’s arm, holding the stun gun between them. She squeezed the button, the blue bolt wriggling, electric crackling a tiny threat between them. Barbara was much smaller than her partner, but her rage gave her an advantage, fueled by madness and delusion.

John finally wrenched the stun gun out of Barbara’s hands, craning to the side with his sudden victory. But Barbara was quick to retaliate with a swift, hard kick to the groin. John was taken entirely by surprise, and Barbara grabbed the taser and shot him with both nodes and close range.

John screamed and fell straight to the floor, Barbara standing beside him with the boxy blue plastic gun in her palm, red plastic trigger under her finger. Barbara said to him, “Poor John”—she had a sadistic little smile—“you always underestimated me.”

She gave the trigger a little tap, very slight, John’s body jerking and flopping at her feet like a fish on the deck of a boat.

“And you never did try to fuck me either. What’s that about? You black guys love white chicks, everybody knows that! And look at me, I’m hot! Were you just too big a pussy, is that it? And don’t give me any of that professional ethics bullshit either—the Black Knight, the Last Man Standing. To think I fell for that crap!”

Barbara squeezed the trigger again, the nodes still in John’s chest, delivering another long, hot blast of lethal electricity. “You cowardly piece of shit,” Barbara hissed, “you never cared, you never knew me at all!” She kicked him once in the head, then set down the taser, picked up the stun gun, and turned to step over his body toward Tia and Marcus.