by L. E. French
“No, do that,” Marie said. She leaned her head against my shoulder. “We’ll have dinner after. I’ll get pizza and cake.”
I laughed. “If that’s what you want.”
“You’re going to tell Brad to set up that meeting. I’ll take care of the food.”
“Because as of that vote, you’re officially laid off. And then you get laid.”
“And then I get knocked up.” She kissed the tip of my nose. “When?”
“Whenever you want, but Dad has to be able to go to the ceremony.”
“Next week.” Marie slipped out of my arms and bustled into the bathroom as if she needed to apply makeup and put on her dress already.
[MarieSclavo: I’ll make the appointment during lunch so we can all go eat afterward. You’re going to wear something nice.]
[VictoriaGodhand: Yes, dear.]
[MarieSclavo: I like the way that looks. Say it again.]
[VictoriaGodhand: Yes, dear. Whatever you say.]
[MarieSclavo: Shivers. I’m getting shivers. Can you take a long lunch and entertain me until the vote is announced?]
She already knew the answer, and she’d already put a smile on my face. I wanted to continue to indulge, but I’d spent long enough here.
[VictoriaGodhand: I need to do the working thing. Enjoy yourself. But not too much.]
The hours dragged by. Lunch became a bright spot when Brad and Marie conspired to plan the wedding and lunch for next week while I said nothing. They put their heads together and made things happen. I knew how to manage projects and people, but they knew how to make the details sit up and beg.
I left my office at ten after three with a smile to sit with our VP of Security and a handful of his top people. On the way, Marie messaged to inform me she’d received confirmation the vote had gone through. That let me walk into my meeting with a broad smile. With eight people I knew by name, most of whom I’d helped hire, I discussed the security ramifications of our new status. They’d been anticipating this for months, but still had questions.
As I shook hands with everyone at the end of the meeting, I messaged Brad.
[VictoriaGodhand: I’m done for today, so you can go.]
[BradKleve: Yay! Marie went to fetch your dinner from the delivery service. Have fun, and see you tomorrow.]
His delight made me snort. On my way to the elevator a few minutes later, I messaged Marie next.
[VictoriaGodhand: We’re done here. I’ll be up shortly. Already sent Brad home, so you don’t have to.]
She didn’t respond, but I hadn’t asked a question. The doors opened. Viola wasn’t at her station, but something else sat on her desk—takeout boxes. One seemed the right shape for a pizza, and the other could hold anything, but as I approached, I thought it smelled like cake. My gaze snapped to the office door.
I imagined Marie walking past. Ross noticed.
Ross had attacked me. Twice.
Marie hadn’t answered my message.
Viola and Brad had already left.
I gripped the doorknob and tried it. Locked.
Panic surged in my gut and shot out to my fingers and toes in a wave of ice.
[VictoriaGodhand: Security override on Malcolm Godhand’s office. Unlock door.]
[GodhandIIncSystem: Security override access denied.]
I blasted a message to all eight of the people I’d just left, demanding they open Dad’s office door. While I waited forever, I jiggled the knob, thumped my shoulder into the door, and kept panicking. One of them messaged me, then the door swung open against my shoulder. I stumbled inside. My feet only kept me standing because I still held the doorknob.
Blood. Too much blood. Running water. Bare flesh. Torn clothes. Blood.
Someone lay across Dad’s desk. She wore Marie’s floral sundress. Dark, wet stains defiled the fabric, ruining its simplistic joy. Her leg dangled off the side, limp and still.
But it wasn’t Marie. It couldn’t be Marie. I didn’t want to know. My feet shuffled across the office anyway.
“Poor thing,” Ross said.
Startled, I jumped to the side and stared at him. Shirtless and with damp hair, he used a towel to dry his hands. He swaggered toward me.
“She struggled more than I expected.”
My stomach churned.
“On the bright side, now there’s nothing in the way between you and me.”
Many times in my life, I’d thought I felt rage. Those moments all paled compared to the seething, venomous hatred that flared in my heart. I had no words, only action.
I launched myself at him with a shriek. He reacted too slow. My fist connected with his jaw. I’d never punched anyone before. He spun and stumbled away from me.
My entire universe narrowed to the man who’d tried to rape me, pressure me, and undermine me, and now had murdered the most precious thing in the world to me.
Because she’d struggled more than he’d expected.
“Vickie, wait.” He rubbed his face.
There would be no waiting. I raised my knee. He lurched aside. I hit his thigh. With this, he seemed to realize I wouldn’t stop. Ross scrambled for the door. I dove to tackle him but missed. He ran to the elevator.
Beyond conscious thought, I scrabbled to my feet and chased after him. I hit the elevator doors as they closed and shoved my hand between them. Ross squeaked as the doors opened and I pounced on him. We rode the elevator in a flail of fists and feet.
The doors opened. Ross ran across the lobby. I chased him. My heels clacked.
“Miss Godhand?” Someone grabbed my shoulders.
I didn’t see who had dared to interfere. Wriggling free, I grabbed his gun and pointed it at Ross. The crack of its report echoed. I flinched. Someone screamed. The glass wall behind him shattered, though it stayed in its frame.
I fired again. Ross’s body twisted and he doubled over, but didn’t fall. Why the fuck didn’t this asshole fall? Stalking toward him, I fired again, hitting another glass wall. Ross raised his head and stared at me, eyes wide and skin pale. Blood stained his hand where he gripped his shoulder.
People shouted and screamed. He scrambled to flee. No way would this pile of shit escape. I ran and plowed into him. We crashed through an already shattered wall of glass. Shards of glass rained as we landed on plascrete. He grunted as he hit. I fell on top of him.
While he gathered his wits, I sat up and pressed the barrel of my gun to his head. Though I wanted to splatter his brains across the sidewalk for everyone to see, I also wanted him to suffer. I wanted to see him quiver with fear. He deserved a slow, horrible, painful death.
“Drop the gun!”
I looked up to see a gun barrel pointed at me. The sight made no sense.
“Miss Godhand,” someone said. “Please put my gun down.”
Twisting, I saw Dave, the security guard. He held his hands up, surrendering to me. Behind him, other guards watched, their faces stunned, shocked, or confused.
Ross gasped for breath. “You fucking bitch,” he wheezed.
“Sir, please remain quiet.” The man holding the gun on me wore a uniform. A cop pointed a gun at me.
“You have no authority here,” I said, though my voice sounded empty. “We have extraterritoriality as of an hour ago.”
“Ma’am, you’re on a public sidewalk. Put down the gun and move away from that man.”
“He killed Marie.” My voice seemed small and faint as I started to grasp the situation. “He slit her throat. In my dad’s office.”
“Miss Godhand,” Dave said again. “Please put down the gun. You don’t want to murder Mr. Lynch on the sidewalk. I promise.”
For a moment, I considered turning the gun on myself. But then Ross would live. He’d get everything he wanted. No matter what, I got nothing. If I lived, though, I could still make him pay.
I let Dave take his gun. The cop arrested me. Our security guards ignored Ross, lying on the sidewalk and bleeding from a gunshot wound in his shoulder. Instead, they watched
the cop cuff me. Dave handed the gun to the cop and told him to take good care of me.
Pain flooded me. I collapsed into tears.
CHAPTER 12
My Dad never showed up, but he sent lawyers. Later, I learned he’d been unable to catch a shuttle back to Earth before his scheduled departure. When he did return, he met with Ross on Monday morning, a few hours before my arraignment, then he disappeared on the way to the courthouse.
I didn’t know how Ross managed to remove him without a trace, but I had suspicions. Without Dad there, I plead guilty on the advice of my lawyers. They had video of me sitting on Ross with a gun pressed to his temple. Though the shooting had taken place on private property outside police jurisdiction, they still charged me with attempted murder. All Marie’s messages had become admissible with her death, and they had several of me saying I wanted to kill Ross.
My guilty plea meant only ten years in Auburn Detention Facility. I could reduce it with good behavior. In ten years, Ross could cause a lot of damage to and with the company. At least I still owned it. With my Dad’s third of the stock as part of my inheritance, I owned seventy-five percent of the company.
Grief overwhelmed me for weeks. I didn’t care about anything. ADF happened. Every moment of every day, I wished I’d shot Ross again instead of handing over the gun. At least then, Marie would’ve been avenged and Dad wouldn’t have disappeared. After a few days, I settled into the routine. Nothing mattered anymore, except avoiding punishments and earning brownie points to get out sooner. The sooner I got out, the sooner I could have Ross killed by a professional who wouldn’t miss with the first shot.
Because I had no contact with the outside world unless they came to visit in person.
“I’m so sorry about Marie and your dad.” Brad sat across a table from me in a bare, stark room intended for lawyer visits. By law, no one could monitor or record the audio, but prison staff could record video the entire time. Compared to the conjugal visit rooms, where they could listen but not watch, I preferred this. He’d gained access to it by getting my lawyer to sign off on him as an assistant, at my request.
I didn’t want to talk about either. If I didn’t talk about it, I could avoid feeling anything. “Thanks.”
“Ross demoted me to the secretarial pool. Jay said to expect that, so all your files were already wiped when he did it, with backups stashed in my apartment. At Ross’s request, the Board of Directors has decided it’s in the company’s best interest to ignore the inconvenient fact that you own the company while you’re in jail. They’re going to ask you to consider doing a handoff of your stock.”
“Great.” If I agreed, I’d give up my voting power on the board. If I didn’t agree, I had a feeling they’d try increasingly dickish options to push me out. My dad had built that company. It had our name.
“But the most important reason why I came is that Jay wants to talk to you. He said to tell you, and I quote, ‘fuck the risk.’ In my palm, I have a state-of-the-art, solar-powered jammer that will let you punch through the blocks here and message whoever you want without being monitored. That’s all it does. The device doesn’t have a battery, and it only works in direct sunlight, so outside on a sunny day. Best I could do. Anything bigger and the bribe to get it through security here would be outrageous.”
“Pass it when we shake hands.” Marie would’ve done the same thing, though she would’ve managed it sooner.
“Yes. I just wanted to tell you first. Are you being treated…decently?”
“More or less.” I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. Trading sex for favors had come easily, of course. The normality of it had kept me on an even keel. “Thank you, Brad. You barely know me, but you’re doing good work. I appreciate that.”
“I really liked Marie. She would’ve wanted this. And Ross is an asshole who doesn’t deserve what he’s managed to get. Besides, your bank account has more than enough to keep me living well for a long damned time, and I’m pretty sure you’re smart enough to find a way to keep me busy as your personal assistant for even longer than that.”
I wished Brad had been able to keep his innocence. At least I knew I had his loyalty. “She liked you too.” Still shying away from thoughts of her and my dad, I stood. “Keep your eyes and ears open.”
“I will. Good luck in here. Message me anytime you need something.”
We shook hands. He passed me the device, and I stuck my hands in my pockets. The guard outside opened the door and I watched my only connection to the outside world leave.
CHAPTER 13
The sun beat down as I clipped the tiny solar-powered jammer to my ear. Sweat soaked the rough orange fabric of my jumpsuit. Dust from the exercise yard coated my throat. Everyone left me alone, a status I’d worked hard to achieve and appreciated. Even three months after her death, the image of Marie covered in blood lingered in my mind, impossible to banish.
[VictoriaGodhandSystem: WAINet connection established. Unable to sync at this time. Connection abnormality detected. Messages may not be transmitted as intended.]
I sighed and hoped Brad had given me the right thing. My first message went to Jay, because I had no one else anymore.
[VictoriaGodhand: Yep, fuck the risk.]
[JaySmith: Why the fuck didn’t you come to me?]
I sighed and wished for the thousandth time that I’d done so many things differently.
[VictoriaGodhand: It happened too fast. I didn’t think.]
[JaySmith: I can’t get you out of jail right now. I don’t have the crew for that. Maybe while you were in holding, but Brad wouldn’t authorize payment until he heard from you, and my people wouldn’t do it for less than half upfront. Now you’re in ADF, and that’s next level shit. It’s gonna have to wait until I can get some specialized help and a fucking plan.]
For some reason, I’d expected him to be capable of miracles. His shortcomings made this wretched place feel more like a prison than it had two minutes ago.
[VictoriaGodhand: I understand.]
[JaySmith: Ross is a piece of work.]
[VictoriaGodhand: That’s one way to put it.]
[JaySmith: You know what would be easier than breaking you out of jail? Killing Ross. Like, a lot easier. I have a few people who’ve worked for you before lined up and ready to take that mission. All I need is your approval and a deposit.]
He sent me the price, which seemed low. Without hesitation, I messaged Brad to approve the transfer with instructions on how to handle the mission from his end.
[VictoriaGodhand: Fucking do it. Make sure he suffers. I want him helpless and begging before he dies. Put him through hell.]
[JaySmith: Yes ma’am. I’ll get you the video the next time you connect.]
That night, for the first time in a long while, I slept well.
Legal
Darkside Seattle: Fixer is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.
Copyright © 2017 by Lee French
All Rights Reserved
ISBN:
About the Author
L.E. French is the cyberpunk pseudonym of Lee French, a fantasy and superhero author. She lives in Olympia, WA with two kids, two bicycles, and too much stuff. An avid gamer, compulsive writer, and casual cyclist, she can often be found on myth-weavers.com, sitting in her BeanBag of Inspiration +4, or riding her bike around the city. She is an active member of SFWA, the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America and NIWA, the Northwest Independent Writers Association, as well as serving the Olympia NaNoWriMo region as a Municipal Liason.
If you liked this novella, please post a review! Find more about Lee’s work on her website:www.authorleefrench.com.
Other Books by Lee French
Spirit Knights
YA urban paranormal adventure
Girls Can’t Be Knights
Backyard Dragons
Ethereal Entanglements
Ghost Is the New Normal
The Maze Beset Trilogy
Superheroes in denim
Dragons In Pieces
Dragons In Chains
Dragons In Flight
In the Ilauris setting
Standalone fantasy tales
Damsel In Distress
Shadow & Spice (short story)
Al-Kabar
The Greatest Sin series
Epic fantasy co-authored with Erik Kort
The Fallen
Harbinger
Moon Shades
Illusive Echoes
A Curse of Memories (coming Summer 2017)
Darkside Seattle
Cyberpunk as L.E. French
Street Doc
Fixer
Mechanic (coming in 2017)
Non-fiction
with Jeffrey Cook
Working the Table: An Indie Author’s Guide to Conventions
Anthologies Into the Woods: a fantasy anthology
Merely This and Nothing More: Poe Goes Punk
Unnatural Dragons: a science fiction anthology
Missing Pieces VII
Artifact
What We’ve Unlearned: English Class Goes Punk
Bridges as Editor (coming November 2017)
Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
