Next morning I was back with Mr. Petrov's son. The full night's rest had done some good to his mood, because he was back to being an arrogant jerk. I took a note to self to push somewhat harder that evening.
He started ranting from his corner as soon as he saw me. “You'll pay for this, you know. I told you, my father doesn't have that much, so you're wasting your time. And more importantly, MY time.”
But I could see he was just acting tough. Scratch the surface, and you'd see the broken mess inside. I smiled at him. “Didn't I told you, it doesn't work that way? Boy, you're a nobody, accept it. Nobody gives a shit about what happens to you. Seems like not even your daddy. He hasn't contacted me yet.”
“Wh-what?”
“Well, maybe it has something to do with me purposefully forgetting to give him a number to call to, if I'm being honest. But, a promise is a promise, and a day has gone without him paying... so it seems like I'll need to send him another gift. Oh, and also a way to contact me, I guess.”
He sprung to his feet, knuckles white from clenching his fists too hard. “You idiot, you think I'm giving up without a fight?” But his voice betrayed him. It was too obvious that he was as scared as a wounded deer in front of a wolf.
I grinned at him. “Boy, you're not fooling anyone. Also, if you think you can beat me, you're deeply mistaken.”
He lunged at me, fists first. Only to crash head first against the locked door as I easily dodged him. It was amusingly obvious that he'd never so much as been in a fight before. I drew the knife and knelt beside him, one of my knees immobilizing his back, somewhat restricting his breath. I grabbed his hair and turned his head to the side so he could see something else than the concrete floor. I slowly took the knife to his chin, making sure he saw it coming.
His breath turned shallow and fast, his face whiter than before, if that was possible. He started mumbling once more. “Fuck, no, please, no, no...”
“Now... you know what I'm going to do. You can stay still and cooperate, or I can make it worse. Deal?”
I grabbed his hand, bent his elbow a little too far backwards. That was his first scream. Then I hacked off the next of his fingertips. He screamed like the little boy he was. I couldn't help to smile as I got on my feet and, for the second time, bagged the finger chunk, signed the note, and shoved both into the envelope. I then threw a rag to him. “Better stop that blood, or you'll bleed out. You don't want that to happen, do you?”
And so, I left him again with his thoughts.
