Chapter 6
SIX
There.
I stood with my left hand on my hip, admiring the work I’d done. Night had fallen. The stars twinkled in the sky. However, my interest in their beauty was at an all-time low tonight.
I used my right thumb to press the button on the flashlight. The walls that were once covered in Anthony’s bodily fluid showed no signs of distress or struggle. As I lowered the light, a sigh fell from my lips.
We’re going to be a while.
I shoved the light in the pocket of my white suit as I made my way across the room.
The power cord of the industrial scrubber wrapped around my arm and shoulder with ease.
I plugged the end into the socket and gripped the handles with both hands as a new record began to play in the headphones covering my ears.
I closed my lips, leaving a small circle. A whistle began, matching the tone of the song by Ella Mai. The satisfaction of seeing the suds on the floor, cleansing away the sins of others helped me shut out the world and tap into another side of myself.
The wood on Josiah’s floors were beautiful, but they’d experienced a lot. Pain. Torture. Disappointment. Redemption. Restoration. Anger. Emptiness. Life. Death. I hovered over the spot where Anthony had succumbed to Josiah’s brutality. He deserved every bit of what had come to him.
A slap on the wrist simply wasn’t enough.
Neither was a divorce. He was still Aubrey’s father and would find a way to be in her life, somehow and at some stage of it.
And, even if not, it would free him of his obligations, but not his debt.
He would find another undeserving child after carefully choosing her mother as his new partner.
He’d invest in their trust and secretly shatter it. Men like Anthony didn’t change. They learned from their mistakes and perfected their technique. But, still, they were vile human that didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as children.
I got lost in my own world. It was three and a half hours before I exited and returned to Earth. The machine powered off with one push of a button. Hand on my hip for the fortieth time since entering the residence, I peered at my work.
Good.
Good.
Time was on my side. I’d made sure of it. This job didn’t require the hours I’d spent at Josiah’s crime scene. It was the closeness I felt to him that kept me here. I didn’t question my return. I knew I’d be back. It was understood.
For confirmation of my cleanliness, I removed another chemical substance from my buggy, courtesy of Rugger. I had a lifelong supply. I’d be old and gray before I emptied every bottle.
The fine mist fell onto every surface I passed. The couch. The floor. The table. The counter. The pictures. The walls. The pillows. The chairs. The bathroom counter. Sink. Shower. Floor. And toilet. I made a complete circle, anticipating the presence of blood.
This time, my light wasn’t necessary. No light was. Luminol worked in sheer darkness, reacting with iron in a way that would make it glow in the absence of light.
My wait was in vain. It always was, but it was a step I’d never skip. It was the confirmation I needed to move. To clean the next mess.
Good job, baby. I patted myself on the back as I walked through the beautiful home. There wasn’t a trace of Anthony’s DNA lingering. I’d destroyed it all. That pathetic waste of human space didn’t exist in this home. He never did.
I exited with my duffle in my hand. The doors of the white Sprinter parted with ease.
One by one, I lifted my machinery into the back, taking trip after trip into the house.
After everything was situated, I closed the doors and made my way to the right corner of the back of the vehicle.
I pulled the curtain back of the professionally installed changing station.
One piece at a time, I removed my work suit, revealing a pair of barrel jeans and a halter underneath.
I traded my sneakers for Tom Ford. I stared at my reflection in the mirror as I fluffed my hair.
Still, it was flawless. It hung down my shoulders.
The volume was worth every layer that had been trimmed.
My makeup was still intact. Ventilation was a very crucial part of the suit’s design. So was a cooling mechanism that kept my temperature down as I cleaned. They worked perfectly together, keeping me comfortable during working hours.
To absorb the oily spots in my t-zone, I patted my face with my favorite brown sponge that never left my cosmetics unless it was to replace it with a new one.
I cleared the imperfections and tossed the sponge back in.
Gloss was next. After retrieving the clear container, I removed the brush and coated my lips.
Once.
Twice.
A third time.
And, a fourth.
“There.”
I collected my things, and tossed them into the indestructible clothing bag. The lock was initiated upon pressing both ends together, sealing proof of my involvement with the destruction of Josiah’s evidence. I lowered my cosmetic bag into my handbag and stepped out of the dressing area.
A few more steps and I was near the driver’s seat. I pressed my body into the cushion and pressured the break with my right foot. The engine started with ease.
Click.
Clack.
Click.
Clack.
I walked through the lobby of The Madison Hotel. Uncertainty plagued me. I wasn’t sure if it was the jeans I’d chosen that I regretted or the choice of handbag. Nevertheless, something felt unforgivable. Still, I pushed through the lobby with my chin in the air.
Click.
Clack.
Shades concealed my identity. They darkened the beauty of the establishment, but didn’t disguise it.
The fixtures were grand and gold, making bold statements in the boutique-style hotel.
It wasn’t small by design. It was small due to preference.
Only a select few could obtain temporary residency, whether it be for a night, a week, or a month.
I was greeted near the elevator. Because the wait was crucial, compensation for the time you lost was in the form of small bites and bubbles. A member of the hotel staff, dressed in a full tuxedo, approached me with a bottle of champagne in one hand and a glass in the other.
“Champagne, Ma’am?” He asked.
“Yes,” I replied, taking a look at the tag on his shirt, “Sebastian.”
His lips curled into a smile as he nodded in my direction.
“Can I ask your name?”
He poured champagne in the glass. I watched it bubble as he filled it nearly to the brim.
“You’ve already asked,” I informed him, “But, no– you can’t have it.”
His smile didn’t fade. In fact, it widened as a chuckle parted his lips.
“Understood.”
He offered me the glass. I accepted, placing it up to my lips.
Ping.
The light on the elevator lit up as the familiar sound welcomed me inside, along with six other guests with champagne in their hands.
My eyes landed on Sebastian as my back pressed against the back of the elevator. His eyes were exactly where I’d predicted they would be.
On me.
His brown skin was flawless. So were his thick eyebrows and long lashes. His lips were kissable. But, his employment was questionable. A runway or film better suited him. A tray, champagne, and glasses didn’t match his profile.
Hmph. I thought, settling with the idea that not everyone was willing to seek their full potential. Safety was comforting. Safety was risk-less. Safety was soothing.
Like Kason.
I closed my eyes and withdrew oxygen from within the walls of the elevator.
Sebastian was the analogy of my life I wasn’t sure I wanted to address at the moment.
I was feeling good, even with that unforgivable thing lingering in the background.
Until it revealed itself, I’d continue to go about my night.
Hardly fazed.
Hardly caring.
Hardly giving a damn.
The awkwardness elevator rides provided was absent. Conversation was plentiful. The eldest, a woman in a bedazzled blazer with a sickening cut that was fully gray, led the chatter.
“So not only do the people of The Madison look good, but they smell good, too. My nostrils have never been so pleased in all of my time… and I’ve had a long goddamn time,” she chuckled.
Sniggers erupted. With a straight face, I sipped from the glass of champagne I’d been given. She was on to something. Everyone smelled pleasant.
“Just go ahead and call out your fragrance choices for the night and I’ll just write them in my little notebook here.”
She removed a pen and paper from her bag as one designer fragrance after the other was revealed. I’d flipped the switch by the time the second name was written on her list. Silence filled the space, now, although there was chatter all around me.
Ping!
Like the Red Sea, the hotel guests divided, creating a pathway for my exit. I stepped forward and then out into the hallway. Just as I turned, the now familiar voice yelled in my direction.
“I didn’t catch your fragrance, sweetie!”
Click.
Clack.
My stride didn’t halt. Neither did my thoughts. They were racing as I headed toward the hotel room I’d been invited to.
“Huffington–” I called over my shoulder. “Huffington Fragrance House.”
There was no need to give specifics. She was behind a season and fragrances rarely had repeat appearances.
Room 2402
Forty-two floors.
Four rooms per floor.
The last four floors only had one suite per floor. The penthouse suite. Two were leased to year-round residents and the other two were booked years in advance. The view of Clarke was stunning from the forty-second floor.
I stood in front of the door with both hands at my side. My purse in one hand, my champagne in the other. Kason’s energy and efforts had increased tremendously, but I couldn’t help but feel like it was a little too late.
He’d shown me that I had to assert myself to become a priority in his life.
He’d shown me that he needed to be reminded to insert me in his daily schedule.
He’d shown me that he was incapable of being who I needed him to be without direction.