"The King’s Lamb" Chapter 5
Leon's memory turned out to be accurate.
About fifteen minutes farther down the road, the abandoned factory emerged from the darkness.
Huge. Silent. Falling apart.
Rain clouds churned overhead while broken windows reflected occasional flashes of distant lightning.
Leon parked beside the rusted entrance and killed the engine.
The sudden silence inside the Aston Martin felt heavy.
Beside him, Lucien had gone frighteningly pale.
"Out," Leon said simply.
He'd stopped tying the kid up after the gas station.
Mostly because it felt unnecessary.
This little thing looked physically incapable of overpowering anyone.
Leon absolutely did not classify this as mercy.
Just efficiency.
Lucien stared out the windshield.
Abandoned factory. Serial killer. Middle of nowhere.
Every horror movie he had ever watched began exactly like this.
His heartbeat slammed painfully against his ribs.
He was going to die.
Definitely.
The car door opened.
Cold air rushed in carrying the sharp smell of incoming rain.
Leon stood outside waiting.
Watching.
Lucien swallowed hard.
His fingers shook while reaching for the handle.
The second his shoes hit the ground, his knees nearly gave out.
Panic and exhaustion crashed together too hard.
A large hand caught his arm immediately.
"Jesus," Leon muttered. "Can you even stand?"
Lucien looked up automatically.
Gray-blue eyes. Cold expression. Rain-dark hair.
Then suddenly the ground disappeared entirely.
Lucien made a startled noise as Leon lifted him effortlessly into his arms.
"What are you doing?!"
"Saving time."
Leon adjusted him higher against his chest like Lucien weighed absolutely nothing.
"If we wait for you to panic-walk across the parking lot, the storm's gonna hit first."
Lucien froze.
His body instinctively grabbed fistfuls of Leon's shirt before he could stop himself.
Warm. Solid. Terrifyingly solid.
The man carried him one-armed across the cracked pavement toward the factory entrance.
Lightning split the sky.
A deafening crack of thunder followed immediately after.
Lucien flinched violently.
Without thinking, he grabbed tighter.
Leon glanced down.
The lamb ears were trembling again.
How did someone survive adulthood this scared of thunderstorms?
Leon genuinely didn't understand.
He'd practically grown up inside boxing gyms.
Thunder ranked very low on the list of frightening noises.
Still, he said nothing.
By the time they stepped inside, rain had started pouring hard enough to blur the outside world completely.
The factory interior smelled like rust, damp concrete, and old fabric.
Leon carried Lucien deeper inside until he found a relatively dry section near one wall.
Then finally looked down at him.
"You planning to stay attached to me all night?"
Lucien blinked.
Realized he was still clutching Leon's shirt desperately.
His face exploded with heat.
He scrambled down immediately.
"Sorry."
Leon rolled one shoulder loosely.
"Storm's too heavy to drive through," he said. "We stay here tonight."
Lucien nodded so fast the lamb ears bounced.
"I'll behave," he promised instantly.
Leon stared at him for two seconds.
Then sat down against the wall.
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Arms crossed. Eyes closing.
Lucien remained frozen for another full minute before cautiously retreating to the opposite side of the room.
Farther away felt safer.
Probably.
He lowered himself onto the concrete floor carefully.
Immediately regretted it.
The tail.
The stupid little tail pressed awkwardly beneath him.
Lucien twisted uncomfortably.
Adjusted.
Twisted again.
Nothing helped.
He reached behind himself trying to yank the puffball free.
Several minutes passed.
Then Leon's voice cut through the darkness.
"Your ass broken?"
Lucien nearly screamed.
He whipped around.
Leon was awake.
Watching him.
"No," Lucien said quickly. "There's just… a tail."
Leon raised an eyebrow.
"A what?"
Lucien pointed weakly behind himself.
"The costume tail."
Leon stood.
Walked over.
Then stopped directly in front of Lucien.
"Turn around."
Lucien hesitated.
Then slowly obeyed.
Immediately, warmth settled against his waist.
Leon's hand.
Even through the fabric, the heat of his palm felt overwhelming.
Lucien stopped breathing.
The fabric shifted slightly while Leon examined the attachment point.
Lucien's thoughts spiraled instantly.
This was how people died.
Probably.
Then Leon pulled a small knife from his pocket.
One quick slice.
The tail came free.
"There," Leon said.
Lucien blinked.
That was it?
He turned around carefully.
Leon stood there holding the little white puffball between two fingers.
For some reason, his expression had gone oddly unreadable.
Then the tail disappeared into Leon's coat pocket.
Lucien noticed.
Decided not to ask.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
The words sounded absurd directed at a man who had technically kidnapped him.
Leon accepted the gratitude like this was all perfectly normal.
Rain hammered violently against the metal roof overhead.
Lucien curled into the corner hugging his knees.
Several minutes passed.
Then Leon suddenly stood again and walked outside into the storm.
Lucien stared after him.
What now?
A horrible possibility surfaced immediately.
Was this his chance to escape?
Lucien looked around frantically.
He needed a weapon.
Something heavy.
If the guy came back while Lucien ran—
A wrench.
Factories probably had wrenches.
Lucien stumbled deeper into the dark interior, hands brushing blindly across old machinery.
Everything looked terrifying in flashes of lightning.
Meanwhile, Leon stepped back inside carrying his jacket.
And stopped.
The lamb was bent over near one of the abandoned textile machines searching for something.
Cute little ass raised in the air.
Leon leaned silently against the doorway.
Watched.
Rainwater soaked through his shirt, turning the black fabric nearly transparent across his chest.
In the darkness, he slipped one hand into his pocket.
His fingers closed around the tiny severed tail.
Soft.
Absurdly soft.
Up ahead, Lucien remained completely unaware he was being observed.
Lightning flashed.
For one split second, the room lit bright enough for Lucien to see deep red stains splashed across one of the machines.
He froze.
Blood.
Oh my God.
Thunder exploded overhead.
A hand landed suddenly on his shoulder.
Lucien screamed.
He spun so fast he slammed directly into Leon's chest.
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Hard.
Very hard.
Rain had soaked through Leon's shirt entirely now.
Warm skin and solid muscle pressed beneath the thin fabric.
Lucien's entire face ended up buried against Leon's chest.
For one deeply humiliating second, his brain stopped functioning.
Not rock-hard.
Actually warm.
Slightly soft over the muscle.
Lucien stumbled backward immediately.
"I— sorry— I thought—"
Words failed completely.
Leon pulled off his jacket instead.
Then draped it over Lucien's shoulders.
"The red stuff is dye," he said calmly. "Textile factory."
Lucien stared.
"Oh."
Another pause.
"Oh."
Right.
Not blood.
Good.
Fantastic.
Lucien genuinely might have died on the spot otherwise.
Leon returned to his original spot against the wall.
This time Lucien didn't even think about escaping.
The jacket smelled faintly like smoke and expensive cologne.
Warm. Heavy. Safe.
Which was deeply concerning considering the circumstances.
Rain softened gradually outside.
The exhaustion finally caught up to Lucien all at once.
His eyes drifted shut against the wall.
And sometime later, he fell asleep completely.
Across the factory floor, Leon sat awake with an unlit cigarette between his fingers.
He rarely struggled to sleep.
Training schedules had disciplined his body too well for that.
But tonight, he remained irritatingly alert.
His gaze drifted toward the sleeping figure across the room.
Lucien had curled tightly beneath Leon's oversized jacket, almost swallowed by it entirely.
Only dark hair and flushed cheeks remained visible.
Completely defenseless.
Leon frowned slightly.
This kid really didn't feel like the mastermind behind a counterfeit ring.
Too nervous. Too emotional. Too easy to read.
And yet.
Leon had seen the ticket himself.
So either the lamb was innocent.
Or he was very, very good at pretending.
—
Morning arrived gray and damp.
Lucien woke slowly.
For one blissful second, he forgot everything.
Then he rolled sideways.
And fell directly onto the concrete floor.
Pain shot through his shoulder.
Lucien groaned.
Right.
Kidnapped.
Factory.
Possible serial killer.
Wonderful.
Nearby, Leon stood with his back turned speaking into his phone.
"Yeah?"
A voice crackled faintly through the speaker.
"So? Did you catch the rat?"
Leon glanced sideways.
Lucien sat on the floor wrapped in Leon's jacket looking sleepy and confused.
The lamb ears had tilted sideways during the night.
Leon's mouth twitched faintly.
"No," he said.
"Huh? Then why'd you disappear so early?"
"I was busy."
Leon hung up.
Then walked toward Lucien slowly.
Lucien instinctively sat straighter.
Leon stopped directly in front of him.
"Where are the rest of the tickets?"
Overnight, Leon had made a decision.
If the kid cooperated. If he behaved. If he kept looking at Leon with those terrified eyes instead of lying—
Leon could make this easy.
The missing money meant nothing to him.
The counterfeit problem could disappear quietly.
And afterward?
Well.
The lamb could stay with him awhile.
Work off the debt.
Lucien blinked up at him.
Then immediately dug into the pocket of the oversized jacket.
He pulled out a single championship ticket carefully with both hands.
"This one," he said.
Leon's expression darkened.
"I said all of them."
Lucien looked genuinely miserable.
"Sir," he said softly. "I only have one."
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