by Sonya Clark
His assistant’s voice brought him back to the moment. “Sorry, I spaced for a sec. Uh, no. No list. But I know you did some research about this kind of stuff for that trilogy you wrote about the three cops.”
“Handcuffed Love.” Priyanka grinned. “Those were some fun books to write.”
“Hand to hand training equipment. Non-lethal weapons. I don’t know much about this kind of stuff. There’s got to be more than just stun guns, right?”
“Oh, sure.” She scribbled notes on the pad. “Brass knuckles. Mace and pepper spray. Batons.”
Batons. How hard would Dani hit him if he asked her to twirl a baton? “Yeah, just whatever. Order a bunch of stuff and have it delivered to my place.”
“Has your doctor cleared you for self-defense training?”
“I’m not planning on starting right away. I just don’t want to get my ass handed to me again.” And he wanted those non-lethal weapons for Dani, but he couldn’t say that. “I do want everything delivered as soon as possible so my trainer can put together a program for me and I can begin to familiarize myself with all the…stuff.”
Priyanka tapped the notepad with her pen. “Just don’t shoot yourself in the face with pepper spray, okay?”
“I think I can handle that.” He took out his phone and settled deeper into the leather chair. “Now go, I’m got some smut to beta read.”
She hopped up. “Ooh, I’ll go email it to you.”
“Anybody asks, tell them I’m reading up on the Hong Kong markets or something. Make it sound impressive.”
“I’ll get you the quarterly report from Applied Sciences.”
That was the one corporate thing he enjoyed reading and she knew it. “Thanks, Pri.” She returned to the outer office, closing the door behind her.
The thought of the Applied Sciences report led him back to Dani. Lately, everything led him back to Dani. Kevin placed his phone on the desk then leaned his head back to stare at the ceiling. What kind of lab had done these things to her? It sounded like a government facility, or at least a place with government contracts. A place designed to create super-soldiers.
It wasn’t the only thing people were enhanced for at the lab. There were tests to see what we’d be best at.
Her words of last night came back to him. What else was this lab enhancing people for? Dani was convinced they were searching for her, and she was probably right. The sooner she left Point Sable, with a new identity intact, the safer she’d be. Knowing that, he couldn’t get attached. It was too dangerous, for so many reasons.
One of the desk drawers held a sketch pad and several pencils. Kevin took out the pad and two pencils, blue and black. Something abstract to focus on would stop the churning in his head. Geometric shapes, lines of Celtic knot work – things like that were his usual go-to when he was out of sorts. This time something else took shape on the page.
Dani.
He lost himself in the work, so much that it barely registered when someone knocked on the door. Sean came barreling in, a whirlwind of impatience and anger. “Are you here to actually do something or are you just taking up space?”
Kevin gripped the pencil so hard, he could feel it giving under the pressure. “What’s the matter with you?” He turned the paper over, not wanting any questions about Dani.
“I could ask you the same thing. Are you really going into business with Tyler Kincaid?”
“What?” Kevin had to think for a moment to remember his last conversation with Tyler. “He asked me to help him buy out his investors. I turned him down.”
His brother glared. “You’ll get involved in that idiot’s bullshit waste of time and money, but I have to practically beg you to haul your ass into your family’s company once a month.”
So that was what had Sean frothing at the mouth. Kevin released the pencil and sat back in his chair. “I said I turned him down. Go find some underling to yell at if you can’t be bothered to listen to me.”
“If you wanted to start your own business, I’d be thrilled. Partnering with Tyler Kincaid is a crap idea.”
“For the love of God, I turned him down. Did you not hear that part?” Kevin forced himself to take a beat and calm down. He didn’t want to fight with his brother. “I’m not interested in starting a business, with or without Tyler.”
“Of course not.” Sean’s usual casual disdain turned into something darker, uglier. “Heaven forbid you get off your ass and do anything useful with yourself.”
Kevin froze. “This again.”
“You changed your major five times in college and barely graduated. Spent half a season as a ski instructor in Banff before getting fired. Left our father’s wake early so you could get drunk with your useless friends. You’ve never held down a job for more than a few months because you have a trust fund provided by someone else’s hard work.”
A cold, blistering anger stabbed Kevin, along with guilt. “What exactly is your fucking problem?”
“You study languages but never get good enough to be fluent in them. You pretend to read the Applied Sciences reports but never get involved. You write checks for charities you know nothing about. You dabble in one thing after another, skip from one brief relationship to another.”
“You want me to start getting approval for how I spend my time? What I’m allowed to be interested in?”
“I want you to be an adult. Apply yourself to something, see it through. Stop being a dilettante and make a commitment.”
The words washed through Kevin in a sickening wave. “You really don’t respect me at all, do you?”
“When have you ever done anything to earn my respect?”
“Get out.”
Awareness flashed across Sean’s face, as if he’d just then realized what he’d said. “Kevin, look.”
“Let me put it to you a different way. Get the fuck out. Now.”
Sean looked like he wanted to say something but Priyanka burst into the office waving a folder. “I’m got that report for you, Mr. Moynihan.” She nodded in Sean’s direction but didn’t make eye contact. “Other Mr. Moynihan.”
Sean ignored her. He turned on his heel and left abruptly without another word.
Priyanka edged the door closed. “Oh God. Are you okay? I left my desk for, like, a minute.”
“I’m fine,” Kevin lied. “It’s nothing he hasn’t said before. He’s just not usually quite so pissy about it.”
She tilted her face down and raised one eyebrow. “That wasn’t pissy, that was vicious. Are you sure you’re okay?”
He didn’t want to answer, because he just might tell the truth. “What’s in the folder?”
“Eh.” She waved the slim black folder. “Takeout menus.”
Kevin nodded. “Order me some Chinese, would you please?”
She sighed as she crossed her arms. “Yeah. Sure thing.” She returned to the outer office, mercifully closing the door behind her.
As soon as the latch clicked Kevin leaned over, head between his knees. He took slow, deep breaths until his stomach no longer felt like it was doing somersaults. Don’t throw up. Ah shit.
Not even the drunk and disorderly arrest and subsequent community service had brought out that level of disgust from Sean. Kevin wanted to be angry. God, he really wanted a hit of righteous anger right now. It didn’t come. Instead, shame snaked through him. Sean may have been an asshole about the way he said it, but he wasn’t wrong to call his younger brother a dilettante. One of the things Kevin had plenty of was self-awareness. He knew he’d been coasting on his trust fund, his family’s name, his own charm and good looks.
So what did he have to offer the world? He could throw himself into working fulltime at Moynihan Consolidated but that would never make him happy. It would never mean anything. Could a rich, pretty boy, dilettante like him ever amount to anything meaningful?
Kevin was afraid he knew the answer.
Chapter 20
A new, better-fitting ski mask covered Dani’s face. Kevin had
that and a few other things waiting for her when she came downstairs. It was getting too warm for gloves but the ones he gave her were thin and supple and hopefully wouldn’t impede the use of her hands. They would keep her from leaving fingerprints behind, a fact he’d reminded her of when she’d tried to leave them at the penthouse.
A few more odds and ends were tucked into the jacket of his she still wore. He hadn’t supplied her with a replacement and she hadn’t asked. Now was not the time to think about that, or anything to do with Kevin.
She had her mind on another man.
Belmont suffered from the same poverty as the rest of the South Side, but it did have one different quality. It looked and felt more like a community working to hold itself together. People were out long after dark, sitting on front stoops and gathered on streets and broken sidewalks, talking, drinking, laughing. She’d had to keep to the shadows to avoid detection. Dirty South wasn’t hard to find. It wasn’t the only nightlife around, but it looked to be the best. Bouncers covered the front entrance and enough people milled around the area that slipping in another door was too much of a risk. The building next door stood a floor higher than the club. She could make that jump easy.
She landed harder than she meant to and rolled to a stop. Quickly, she hustled to the west side of the building where a rusty fire escape led halfway to the ground. At the top floor was a narrow window. A nice jab with her elbow would have done the job but she was glad to find it unlocked. With a mental push, she turned on her night vision. Nothing stirred beyond the window. Boxes were stacked neatly along one wall. There was a door with a glass inset and no light coming through it. Also no visible security cameras.
Carefully, quietly, Dani worked the window open then slid through it. She dropped to the floor in a crouch and didn’t move, listening for signs of a guard. After a full minute of waiting, she made her way to the door. Nothing moved in the hallway. She dialed up her hearing. Sounds from the main floor came to her, a susurrus of nondescript party noise underneath a layer of hip-hop.
The door creaked when she opened it, the hinges sounding like they hadn’t been oiled in forever. She froze, waiting. If anybody else was on this floor, they didn’t hear the door. The hallway led to a dark set of stairs. The floor below was lit by a bare red bulb hanging from the ceiling and had three closed doors. All were locked and sounded empty. The end of the hall opened into a landing with a view of the club. Dani stayed low and stuck to the edge of the wall, raising her head just enough to be able to see.
The place was packed, the dancefloor full of writhing bodies and the bar three deep. A deejay held court at a tiny stage, head bobbing in time with the music. Not the deejay she was looking for, though. She scanned the crowded room for him. The customers were primarily African-American with a sprinkling of Latino. Only a very few white faces were evident. Every time Dani spotted a white woman she stared hard until she was sure it wasn’t one of the Russians.
Finally DJ Housecat made an appearance. The club had a Twitter account, as did its owner, so it had been no problem for her to find a picture of him. He stood near the entrance now, towering over those near him. The music changed to something with a driving, funky beat and lyrics about a king named Kunta. Dani found herself nodding along in rhythm as she watched Housecat work the room. Well over six feet tall, he had panty-dropping good looks with dark brown skin, a flashing smile, and eyes that missed nothing. Wide shoulders and a massive physique added to the appealing package. The man was made of muscle and charisma. He greeted people like beloved royalty meeting his subjects, shaking hands, bumping fists, kissing cheeks. Everyone who wanted a moment with him got it, but not too long. He moved smoothly through the crowd until he’d reached the bottom of the landing.
Dani scurried back to the hallway, wishing she was tall enough to unscrew that light bulb. Breaking it was too risky. Flattened against a doorway, she listened with her enhanced hearing as Housecat spoke to an underling. Club business, nothing she cared about. Then he mounted the steps alone and she thanked her lucky stars. On silent feet she raced to the end of the hall, hiding around the corner as he strolled to one of the doors. Unlocking it, he stepped inside, flipped on a light and left the door open.
His back was to her when she entered the room. From his stance – arms up, head down – she guessed he was looking at his phone. She closed the door. He cocked his head to one side, moving just enough to see her black-clad form in his peripheral vision.
Dani raised one hand, palm out and facing him. “I just want to talk.”
Housecat moved fast, grabbing her wrist and jerking her forward with one hand while the other tossed his phone to his desk and formed a fist. Dani wrapped both hands around his thick wrist and twisted his arm to an unnatural angle, slamming him face-down on the desk.
“The fuck you think you’re doing,” he snarled.
“I just want to talk.” She put pressure on his arm, eliciting more swearing. Then she made a point of showing him she could hold him in place with just one hand. “Don’t give me a reason to beat the crap out of you, because I will.” She decided to take a chance and release him.
He righted himself quickly, holding his wrist. “You got about ten seconds before I crack your head open.”
Dani grinned. “I’m stronger than you, faster than you, and I know all kinds of way to make a man hurt. So let’s just talk, okay.”
Housecat gaped at her. “Who the fuck are you?”
She raised her phone so he could see the screen, which showed the latest on the Cabrini Ghost hashtag.
With narrowed eyes he stared at the phone then her. No disbelief, no protest. Her heart sped up. Had one of the girls found her way to Belmont? He said nothing, so she lowered her phone and opened another app. “These girls are in danger. They’re Russian. I was told girls looking to get away from the Russians in Lincoln Heights might be able to find a little safety here.” She raised the phone again and scrolled through the pictures slowly, giving him a chance to take a good look.
“Those aren’t photos,” he said.
“I had an artist draw them.” Dani glanced at the last picture. “She was found dead. Murdered. I think somebody didn’t like losing what they thought of as their property.”
He took in a sharp breath. “What do you want?”
“Make sure the girls are safe. Stop the killer.”
“You don’t know what you’re getting into, do you?”
“No.” She put her phone away and sat on the edge of his desk. “Tell me.”
“Take that mask off and I might.”
“Not gonna happen.”
“Then get out.”
Dani tilted her head, one hand drawing into a fist.
“Show your face or get out.” Housecat chuckled. “I ain’t afraid of no ghost.”
She groaned inwardly. “Just for the record, I hate that name.”
“Then why do you call yourself that?”
“I don’t. Other people do.”
“So pick one you do like. After you get your ass out of my club.” He swept out one massive arm, fist aimed at her head. She ducked and rolled away from the desk. One well-placed kick brought him down. Housecat was big, easily twice her size, but he was no match for her enhanced strength and speed.
“I just want to help these girls,” she said. “Make sure they’re safe.”
“Then don’t be flashing pictures of them all over the South Side! What the fuck is wrong with you?” He stayed on the floor but pulled himself into a sitting position, forearms resting on his raised knees.
Dani took a step back, stunned. The last thing she’d wanted to do was put those girls in even more danger. Had she done that just by searching for them?
“You go running around Cabrini, beating up muggers and shit. You think that means anything? You think it helps people?” Housecat stood, and this time the height difference made her feel small. Or maybe it was his words. “There’s always some other bad guy. You take out one of those Russian
bastards, there’s ten more to take his place before the body is cold. Ghost is a good name for you, girl. You might make some noise and get a few people talking, but you ain’t nothing but smoke and you can’t touch anything. You can’t change anything. So get the hell up out of my club and out of my neighborhood.”
Words of protest clogged in her throat. She wanted to tell him he was wrong, that she could help people. But hell, hadn’t she been trying to avoid that very thing since practically her first night in Cabrini? How many times had she thought to herself, I’m never doing this again? Every night, sometimes several times a night. But she kept doing it anyway. A scream, a cry for help, and she’d take off running toward it.
But nothing changed. Those cries for help kept coming, night after night after night. The futility of her meager actions kicked her in the teeth, made her choke on her own delusions. Because the truth was, she wasn’t running toward those cries so she could help people. She was running away from the screams that filled her nightmares. She ran to help herself, and that was no way to help anybody.
Dani ran now, away from this stranger who’d seen her ugly truth. She left the club behind and hit the streets, running flat out, not caring who saw her, or where she wound up. Even if someone saw her, she couldn’t touch them and they couldn’t touch her. She was a ghost, an empty echo. She ran, and she ran, but she couldn’t outrun the screaming in her head, and she couldn’t outrun her own self-hatred. She ran until her lungs ached and her muscles burned.
She ran until she reached the Lee Street shelter and Kevin’s car parked in the alley. She slumped against the wall, bent over with her hands on her knees and gulping air. At some point she’d removed the ski mask and shoved it into a pocket. Her hair fell around her in a cloud of tangles, dimming the security light at the mouth of the alley. The minutes ticked by and her body recovered quickly from the exertion. The tattered shreds of what used to be her heart or maybe her soul or whatever should have been the best part of her – that wasn’t so lucky.
