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"Like I said to your son earlier, any information about the prosthetics we build is strictly confidential."

"But surely we could just get the phone number or any type of contact and arrange to meet with the owner." I wrap my arm around Five, fingernails tracing up and down his shoulder. "My son only wants to help."

The man continued. "Without the clients consent, I simply can't help you."

"Well we can't get consent if you don't give us a name." Five growled.

"Well, that's not my problem. Sorry, now there is nothing more I can do, so-"

"Well what about my consent?" Klaus asked,

"Excuse me?"

"Who gave you permission to lay your hands on my son?"

"What?" The man and Five asked.

"You heard me."

"I didn't touch your son."

I then joined in, "oh really, then how did he get that swollen lip, then?"

"He doesn't have a swollen-"

I quickly balled my hand into a fist and sent it flying towards Five's face.

"We want a name, please, now." Klaus said impatiently.

"You people are crazy."

Klaus and I chuckle, "oh, you have no idea." I smile innocently.

Klaus then picked up a snow globe, "'peace on Earth' that's so sweet." He smiled, before slamming it into his head, causing him to start bleeding. "God that hurt."

The man picked up the phone, "I'm calling security." I quickly claw the phone out of his hand and bring it to my ear, "what are you doing?"

I put on a panicking voice and say, "there has been an assault, in Mr. Big's office, and we need security, now. Schnell!"

"Now." I continue, putting the phone down, "here's what's going to happen Grant." I reach over the seat and grab his tie, wrapping it around my hand and pulling him closer to my face.

"It's-L-Lance." He stutters.

"In about 60 seconds, two security guards are going to burst through that door and they are going to see a whole lot of blood, and they're going to wonder, 'what the hell happened?' And we're going to tell them that you beat the shit out of my husband and son."

Klaus continued, "you're going to do great in prison Grant, I've been there. Little piece of chicken like you. Oh my god, you're going to be passed around like a...you're just- you're gonna do great, that's what I'm saying."

"Jesus, you are real sick bastards."

"Thank you." Klaus smiles.

I pulled him closer and brought my lips to his ear, "we know."

~

I sat on the counter, one leg crossed over the other as the three of us watched Lance flick through the many files.

After pulling one out, he looked at me then Klaus before reading. "Oh, that's strange."

"What?"

"Uh, the eye. It hasn't been purchased by a client yet."

"What? What do you mean?" Klaus asked.

"Give me that." I order, snatching it from his hands.

"Well, is, our logs say the eye with that serial number...it can't be right. It hasn't even been manufactured yet. Where did you get that eye?"

𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐘Where stories live. Discover now