Chapter Twenty-Nine
I was shocked to see the bodies of Shadow’s men, along with a small army of hired killers, litter the outer hallways of Calisto’s residence. It looked as if a war had been fought inside the condo building.
Shadow seemed distraught by the carnage. He had known some of these men personally.
It was Lincoln who consoled him, pointing out that for every one of Shadow’s guards that fell, there were three killers who lay dead next to them. They had whittled away a death squad of at least thirty down to eight, giving up their lives to increase our chances of survival. In the end, they did their jobs and did them well.
We left the condo, and the massacre.
Shadow remained silent, his eyes focused on the road, navigating the Aston Martin through the city’s highway, guided by the glow of the midnight lights.
“Her kidnapping makes no sense,” Lincoln stated all of a sudden. “There’s no ransom note, nor instructions for her safe return. Why give us her finger with no demands?”
“Lucien’s sending us a message,” Shadow said grimly. “He wants us to be afraid of him. He wants us to see him as a genuine threat.”
Lincoln sat back in his seat and cursed. Tensions were high and we were all emotionally drained, which made for an uneasy car ride.
We finally pulled up to the steel gates of the storage facility. It had started to pour; heavy tears from the sky that reflected my own mood.
The security guard on duty recognized Shadow and opened the gate for us without a word.
“Why would Lucien choose a storage facility that you own as a meeting place?” I asked, puzzled.
“A lot of my personal businesses are kept secret from the rest of the society. I’m sure Lincoln has his own establishments kept off the records as well.”
It took a moment for Lincoln to clue in on the conversation. He was too busy torturing himself by staring at Calisto’s severed finger.
“Lincoln?” I tried reaching out to him, concerned for his sanity.
He looked up from the box and its horrific contents and pulled a Jekyll and Hyde, his morose demeanor morphing into a cheerful one. “If anyone ever wants a complimentary manicure and shellac that’s out of this world, let me know,” he said, putting the box away.
“Why keep all these businesses a secret?” I asked.
“Two reasons; the first being that people within the Midnight Society are nosy and love measuring their wealth against each other,” Lincoln explained. “Consider it a ‘my dick is bigger than yours syndrome.’ It’s childish, really. If people had the ability to be content with what they already have, wouldn’t this world be such a happier place?”
“Tell that to the woman who just heard about the latest designer handbag from Burberry,” I said.
“For us to keep a set of our own businesses off the record allows everyone to speculate each other’s true worth. What’s on paper will never be a true reflection of our net income. This removes the entire measuring our dicks…” Lincoln paused as he casted me a quick glance, “…or vaginas syndrome.”
“I appreciate your effort to be politically correct in your analogy,” I mused. “Though believe it or not, unlike men, girls don’t tend to get jealous over the size of our vajayjays.”
Lincoln ignored my comment and continued. “The second reason we hide our businesses is that some of us tend to deal in some shadier dealings and we need to launder the money coming through with secret side businesses.”
“Shady dealings as in knock off sunglasses and black market electronics?” I speculated.
“Not exactly. It’s better off you didn’t know,” Shadow said.
I turned to Shadow, surprised. “Tell me you’re joking.”
“Sorry,” he said, “But I have no punch line for you.”
“You’re telling me my boyfriend is a criminal?”
“In his defense, we’re all criminals,” Lincoln said. “I have my illegal business dealings but I also own one of the most elite Montessori daycares in the country. I try to balance out the bad with the good; give myself a neutral karma rating.”
“That doesn’t make you good,” I said. “A crack dealing Mary Poppins is still a criminal, no matter how many spoonfuls of sugar she shoves down a whiny kid’s mouth.”
“I’m not disagreeing with you Aria,” Shadow said. “But as I said, it’s better if you didn’t know.”
“Great, my lover is the Godfather,” I sighed.
“Do you regret being with me?” Shadow asked.
I shook my head without hesitation. “I love you,” I replied. “Although I can’t say when I was a little girl, I had dreams of sleeping with Lex Luthor.”
“I’m not bald,” Shadow pointed out.
“You get the idea.”
The Aston Martin pulled up to unit thirty-seven and the three of us filed out of the car and into the rain. I stood there and allowed every droplet of water to wash over my body.
I wanted to feel cleansed.
“Here goes,” Shadow said, walking over to the storage unit. “Aria, stay back,” he said, his gun in one hand while the other punched the access code into the security key pad.
A green light indicated that the entry was accepted and slowly, the heavy garage doors to the storage unit began to open.
The world froze all around us as we waited for the doors to open, and when they finally did, I was horrified by the nightmare that was waiting for us inside.
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