by JA Huss
I turn away and walk over to the window. Leaning against it and press my forehead against the glass.
“I didn’t come here to spell it out,” Midnight continues. And I just want her to shut up. “I came here hoping I could get you all back into your normal lives without having to tell you the whole truth. But…” I glance at her over my shoulder and find her shrugging. “You wanted an explanation, so here it is. If you don’t do what you’re told, Tony Dumas, your whole family is going to be on the news by the middle of next week.”
“You’re going to lie about him,” Belinda growls. “About the whole family. Even though you know they weren’t involved.”
“Me?” Midnight points to herself and laughs. “Not me, Belinda Baker. I’m ex-Company, sweetie. Just like Vann’s little friend, Sasha. I’m one of the good guys here. I’m trying to stop all this from happening. I didn’t set the Dumas family up to take the fall for a disgusting child trafficking ring in the Caribbean. That was all them!” She points to the window.
“Who?” I ask. “Who the fuck are we dealing with?”
Midnight takes a deep breath. And is that rage she’s hiding underneath all these nonchalant words? “They go by many names. Company. Silver Society. The Way. There’s dozens more where those came from. But they are all the same. They are all high-ranking politicians. Celebrities. Media moguls. Just your average billionaires. Point to just about anyone at the top and they’re involved. And if you don’t get your shit together, Tony Dumas, the full wrath of their cover story will ruin everything your family stands for. You will all go to prison. The entire world will know your family as those nice people down on Key West who sold children into slavery. And that’s the best case scenario. The headlines only get more disgusting from there.”
“But they didn’t,” Belinda insists. “We have proof! We can show them the kids, and get the whole marina to testify—“
“Are you serious right now?” Midnight asks her. The tone of her voice rising in pitch. “I mean, I get it. You’re just an innocent girl who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. But please tell me you’re not that naïve. Because if you are, we have a lot to go over before I can let you leave this room. And it’s not going to be pleasant to hear.”
None of us say anything. We just all stand there feeling… overwhelmed, I guess. Blindsided is maybe a better word.
Then, finally, Midnight says. “It doesn’t have to go this way. We have people in place to take care of it, Tony. Johnny Boston—“
I turn on her. “He’s part of this?”
“Of course,” Midnight says. “He just doesn’t know it yet.”
We’re all silent again. And we stand totally still. Like each of us is afraid to move. Afraid to hear what might come out of her mouth next.
“Listen,” Midnight says. “I know this sucks.”
“Sucks,” Belinda snorts.
Midnight glares at her and Belinda goes quiet. “I know this sucks,” she says again. “But this is how the real world operates, you guys. What better way to hide something awful? Something truly terrible that most people don’t even want to admit is happening? They do it by having a front that seems to oppose their evil plans. If you want to smuggle children around the world for your own personal, disgusting reasons—then you start a charity for them. An orphanage. A… you know. Clean water initiative for a remote village. An adoption agency. A preschool.”
“Oh, my God,” Belinda says. Holding her stomach. “This can’t be happening.”
“You don’t have to believe it,” Midnight says. “But it’s one-hundred percent true. I’ve been watching it happen my whole life.”
She looks at Vann. “You think you know things because you can toss names around like Sasha Cherlin. Or James Fenici.” She looks at me. “Or Johnny Boston. But listen to me. Those people?” She shakes her head. “They haven’t seen anything compared to me. And I know the backstory about James. You may have heard some of it, Vann. But you don’t know what really happened to him as a child. They did horrific things to him. But as horrible as they were, that was nothing compared to what they did to me.”
Midnight shifts her gaze back to me. “Or that girl you saved a few months ago that got you into all this trouble. You did a good thing, Tony. But it’s not going to help you now. They set you up. They gave you a choice to help people. The choice was an illusion. You’re just another cog in the wheel. How much do you get paid? Hmm? For your good deeds?”
“What?” I say. Disgusted at the mere idea that we do this for money. “We don’t get paid, Midnight. It’s fucking charity.”
“No,” she says sadly. “You don’t get paid. But they do. Your family does this for all the right reasons. But those people out there who really run things? They don’t. This is all about money and leaving a legacy. All of it.”
She looks back at Vann. “You seem to know a lot about what Spencer Shrike and his friends did several years back to set up, and take down, the dirty FBI in this town. But do you know the details? Do you know how they did that?”
Vann shakes his head.
“They stole money. A lot of very dirty money. That’s how it all started. And then they used that same dirty money and simply connected it to an FBI agent. They made a money trail, Vann.” She looks at me. “It’s all about money. And if you want to find the people responsible for all the evil shit that happens in this world you follow the money. And if you want to set someone up to take your fall and eat your guilt—all you have to do is leave a little money trail for someone else to follow. That’s how Spencer and his friends did it, Vann. They knew how the world worked. And they set someone else up to take their fall, and punish the Company at the same time.”
I hear her. I understand what she’s saying. But this… can’t be true. We can’t be in this fucking deep. “We don’t have a money trail, Midnight. It’s just not there. We never took any—“
“Didn’t you?” she snaps.
“We didn’t!”
“You did,” she growls. “You just didn’t know it. Your family is quite rich now, aren’t they?”
“We earned that.”
“Your sister—“
“My sister earned that! She owns a huge cosmetics company, for fuck’s sake! They started it from nothing! They give away millions of dollars every freaking Christmas!”
Midnight puts up her hands. “I get it. I know how hard this is. But… I’m not saying she’s not brilliant, or her partners aren’t brilliant, or their products aren’t superior. They are probably all those things. But come on! She’s like what? Thirty years old and she’s one of the richest women in the world! How do you think that happens? Hard work? Really?”
I… don’t know what to say. But I’m not ready to accept this. “It can’t all be based on lies.”
“Your family was rich once. Right?”
I nod. I’m not into the family history the way Alonzo is. But I do know people way back in my family were very wealthy at one time.
“Families are always rising and falling in America, right?” Midnight says.
“I guess,” I shrug.
“No, Tony. They aren’t.” She shakes her head sadly. “The same families are always rising and falling in America. New families striking it rich the way your sister did? That’s nearly impossible. You have to know people. You have to have them on your side.”
“So they set her up?” Belinda asks.
“They set her up,” Midnight says. “They set up your entire family, Tony. And all these new connections? Boston brothers? Vaughn Brothers? Spencer Shrike, and Sasha Cherlin, and James Fenici? This—” Midnight twirls her finger around in a circle. “This is making the Company and their ilk very uncomfortable. We need to neutralize it and we need to do it quick.”
“I guess no good deed goes unpunished. Does it?”
I turn and find Soshee looking at Midnight. Who points to her and says, “Got it in one.”
Midnight waits for one of us to keep protesting, but what�
�s left to say?
We have nothing left to say.
“All right then,” Midnight says. Blowing out a long breath. “Here’s how this is going to go down.” She points at Belinda and Vann. “You two just need to shut your traps and go back to work. Pretend Tony left on bad terms. Pretend you don’t know anything about the Crappy Coffee Shop, and—”
“Wait!” Belinda says. “Aren’t you connected to the Crappy Coffee Shop?”
“Me? No.” Midnight chuckles. “I am not dirty FBI. I am ex-Company. That’s what I’ve been trying to explain for the past seven minutes and seventeen seconds. I’m on your side, OK? You just need to trust me.”
Trust her? Like the way we trusted everyone else? Is she kidding?
“Let me start this again from the top. Tony and Soshee are going back to Key West. Vann and Belinda are going back to work at Sick Boyz. No one is going to pay any attention to random witnesses who show up out of nowhere. No one is going to blab to their brothers about what just happened in this room. No one is going to call Sasha Cherlin, or James Fenici, or Johnny Boston. OK? If we do that, then we all live to fight another day.” She pauses to smile at us like we’re children.
But we’re not children. In fact, I’m fairly certain every single one of us is older than Midnight here. She can’t be any older than Vann, that’s for sure.
Belinda makes a noise. It’s one I kinda recognize from the old days. A noise that says… I’m gonna say something I will probably regret right now. Something cute, and sassy, but will definitely escalate the situation so maybe someone should stop me.
I glance at Midnight and find her smiling at Belinda. And I swear to God, I know that smile. And when I look at Belinda, she recognizes it too.
“Um…” Vann says, stepping in front of Belinda. Yeah, he sees everything. And he knows that Midnight here just shot us a smile that would be totally at home on Creepy Wendy’s face.
She’s one of them.
She’s one of those little girls.
Maybe not so little anymore, but that just makes her more dangerous, not less.
“I’m in a hurry here, guys,” Midnight says. “Because the Crappy Coffee people are watching me too. Nine minutes and seventeen seconds ago I walked into the Fort Collins Theater, presumably to buy coffee. Which means that in four minutes and forty seconds I have to leave there with a fucking coffee in my hand. OK? Or they’re going to wonder what the hell I’m up to. And while I give zero fucks if they know what I’m up to, you four should be giving all the fucks. Because they will wipe you out.” She points at me. “Your family is already on the shit list after you went against orders for that last pickup job. And hey”—she puts up both hands—“I’m rooting for you guys. You saved a little girl that day. A little girl I happen to care about. So you’ve got that going for you. But one more suspicious move and those headlines I mentioned? They’re gonna be splashed all over the world and they won’t tell you they’re coming. If you and Soshee don’t leave town, and you two don’t go back to work, all of this is out of my hands. Got it?”
We all nod. Silent.
“Good. I’m leaving now. I don’t expect to ever see you again. Someone new will take over my job at the bookstore and we’ll pretend this never happened. Are we clear?”
“Clear,” I say, speaking for all of us.
“Then goodbye.”
And with that she turns around and walks to the door.
“Wait!” Soshee calls. “What about the bug?”
Midnight doesn’t even turn around. “Airport, Soshee. Tomorrow at noon. Then you’ll never have to think about that bug again.”
She walks through the door and leaves us standing there in silence.
None of us says anything for at least a minute.
But then Vann turns to us and says, “Follow me.”
We all follow Vann out of Soshee’s apartment, down the stairs, and cross the street to Anna Ameci’s. Soshee lets her aunt know we’re taking a table in the corner.
We all sit down and look at each other. Surrounded by the bustling chatter of dozens of conversations inside the restaurant. Safe from spying ears.
Vann’s blue eyes look at each of us in turn and then finally settle on mine. He says, “Fuck this shit. You in?”
And I find myself liking Vann Vaughn.
I find myself liking Vann Vaughn a whole helluva lot.
Because I say, “Fuck yeah. I’m in.”
EPILOGUE 1 - TONY
Everything about my life has changed since Soshee came back to Key West with me.
Wait. No. Let me try that again.
Everything about my life is better since Soshee came back to Key West with me.
I own a fifteen-hundred square foot cottage about mid-way down my family’s street and there wasn’t a single stand-out thing inside this place until Soshee Ameci moved in.
Most girls who walk away from the only life they’ve ever known would feel at least a little out of place, but not my Sosh. She came in, looked around with her lips pressed together, and then nodded and said, “OK. I can work with this.”
I didn’t understand what that meant, exactly. But I do now. Clean. Slate. As she so eloquently put it when I made a big deal about her amazing loft in Fort Collins.
She went shopping yesterday while I was at work and when I came home last night I felt like… well… I felt like I was coming home for the very first time.
I had never had that feeling before. This street has always been my home. There is nothing new to see here. Nothing exotic to discover. And I’m not complaining about that, it’s just a fact.
But when I came home from the marina last night and walked into a room transformed by candles, and beaded curtains, and throw pillows made of crushed velvet. And I saw my sexy supervillain standing barefoot in the center of the living room wearing a pair of cut-off shorts and a light green bikini top that made her eyes look like flashing emeralds… well that?
That felt like coming home.
And I thought to myself… I’m gonna fall in love with this girl.
Tonight when I come home the first thing she says to me is, “I called a guy and had the whole place swept for bugs. I got your mom to let me into Luke and Alonzo’s cottages too, and they’re clean as well. So.” She blows a stray piece of fire-red hair out of her face and nods. “I think we’re good now.”
And then I think to myself… Nah. I fell for this girl the very first moment I saw her.
I walk across the room, take her in my arms, spin her around until she laughs hysterically, and dip her backwards for one of those dramatic old-fashioned kisses.
We fall to the floor. That move is harder than it looks. But we laugh all the way down.
“Hey Sosh,” I say. Once we’ve stopped laughing and are sprawled out in the middle of the small living room.
“Hmm?” she hums back.
“Would you like to be my partner in crime?”
She turns over on her stomach and props her hands under her chin as she grins at me. “What kind of things come with being your partner in crime? Anything cool?”
“Define cool.”
“Like… do I get a costume?”
“Oh, every supervillain gets a costume. So that’s a big yes.”
“Does it come with a cape?”
“And a hood.”
“Can we fuck in the costumes?”
I laugh. Jesus. This woman kills me. “Only if you promise to cook in it too.”
Which makes her grin and wink. “I do make a good Bolognese.”
“Yeah. I hear your cannolis are better than getting a blowjob in the alley.”
She guffaws again. Rolls over on top of me. Kisses me on the mouth and murmurs words past my lips. “Hmm. Wow. This all sounds like a super good deal.”
“We’re gonna be quite the team.” I whisper back.
And she replies, “We already are.”
EPILOGUE 2 - BELINDA
Winning a game is all about knowing when to make a
move.
Go too soon, you lose momentum and the element of surprise.
Go too late and you miss your chance.
After Midnight’s little visit we sat inside Anna Ameci’s for a couple hours talking in low whispers as we sorted through all the information.
One thing was for sure. Soshee and Tony were leaving on that plane the next day at noon. So this was our last chance to come up with a plan.
Leave it to Midnight to save us?
Uh… no. We’re not the kind of people looking to get saved by anyone, let alone some smarmy fake counter-culture wanna be. I don’t care that she’s some leftover assassin like Creepy Wendy. Those little Company girls might be good killers but I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say they probably have a pretty bad record when it comes to saving innocent people.
And we are innocent.
I reject the idea that doing good deeds will get you in the end.
It’s not supposed to be that way. And fine. Creepy Midnight can call me naïve all she wants.
I don’t care what she thinks. I’m not naïve, I just have high standards.
If she wants to—
“Hey, hey, hey,” Vann says, wrapping his arms around me as he spoons me from behind. “Calm down there, killer. Plenty of time to plan a murder when the sun actually comes up.”
“What are you talking about?” I don’t snap it. But I kinda want to. Thinking about Creepy Midnight does that to me.
“I can hear the wheels turning in your head. You’re making plans.”
I turn to face him and match his charming grin with a devious one of my own. “You’re mostly wrong. I was making plans. But it wasn’t about anything dangerous. I was thinking about making your whole family breakfast this morning. I can’t take another oatmeal special.”
These words wipe Creepy Midnight right out of my mind. Because I live here now. In this cool, ramshackle mansion filled with tatted-up Vaughn men.
And the best part? The best part is that Vic took a picture of Vann and me sitting on the front porch and it now hangs in the second-floor hallway with all the rest. I found the frame in a box in the basement. It’s not perfect. The fake gold paint is cracking and there’s no glass or anything. But I wanted a frame that belonged here. Not something brand new with no history.
