Chapter Eight Monika
Chapter Eight
Monika
Later that night, I finalize editing a few photos from the attack at Old Sundale Station.
There’s one that I linger over. Fuck. I want it for my exhibit, but it’s not quite right.
I could throw it in anyway—it’s just that good—but Taranis doesn’t deserve it.
The way the light his body creates illuminates the planes of his face.
The blood spatter that makes him look like a dark and vengeful angel, the kind that would drag you to hell with no remorse.
I start to feel hot. The kind of heat that’s embarrassing when you realize it’s happening because of a picture of a guy you know better than to like.
Tucking away my own vanity, and my overactive, underused sex drive, I send the picture to Simone—still my only contact on Taranis’s team—dust myself off, get into my bed, and turn on something to turn me off completely: a horror movie, the bloodiest one I can find.
Too bad the Black guy makes it to the end.
Too bad the Black guy was the villain the whole time.
I turn off the movie and lie back in my massive king-size bed complete with the most expensive sheets they had in the department store, and roll over the request made of me by Mr. Singkham. I open my phone to the final cut of the image I just edited and close my eyes with a heavy sigh.
I might have sex with Taranis—if he even wants me, which he won’t.
I might also try to be a spy—if I don’t get caught, which I will.
Whatever happens, there’s absolutely no chance I make it out of this alive.