by C. S. Wilde
Letting out an exasperated breath, I do. “Mr. Paine, my job is to defend you, but I can’t prepare myself unless you give me the truth so I know how to play my cards.”
He bites his lips, his gaze drifting to the corners of the room. He leans over the table and whispers, “Have you heard of the Black Mask?”
I lean closer. “The drug dealer with a distribution network of his own?”
Pride gleams from the back of Greg’s eyes. “That’s me.”
Impossible. I researched this case to its last detail. Could Greg be your regular rich boy / drug-dealer? Sure. The Black Mask? Not the slightest chance.
“Mr. Paine, I swear, if you’re lying—”
“It’s the truth.” He peers at me. “Being the Black Mask means I’m tied up with dangerous people. Jenny and I had been going out for a while, and she found out about this big shipment I was working on.” He glances back at the guard, making sure he can’t hear. “If I didn’t give her three hundred thousand, she’d tell the cops about my little scheme, and ma’am, it was a million-dollar deal. I had to do something.”
I start jotting notes. “Why did she blackmail you?”
“She said her dad was about to lose his house. Some sob story like that. She had asked me for money before, but c’mon, I’m no bank, and I don’t do charity.”
Is he serious?
“Your father is a millionaire and you’re a big time drug dealer. What’s three hundred thousand to you?”
He waves his hand in the air as much as the long-chain cuffs allow him to, and that’s all he’ll have to say about that.
“What happened next, Mr. Paine?”
“I invited Jenny to talk things over. We drank a bit, snorted some, and when she was relaxed, I grabbed the gun. She tried to run, but I had locked the living room door. She turned to me and cried for mercy. She said she wouldn’t say a thing.” His eyes narrow in the manner of a vicious wildcat. “She begged. I hate it when they beg. So I shot her and planted the knife.”
He murdered someone in cold blood and faked the evidence. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t stand a chance in this trial. He was also under the influence when he did it. In a split second I know the arguments that will free him, and I hate myself for it.
Greg fidgets in his seat. “I’m ready to pay you handsomely, ma’am. More than what has been agreed. And you won’t need to pay taxes on it.”
How will I sleep at night afterward? “Shall I recommend you plead guilty of the murder, Mr. Paine?”
He smiles. “You may, but I won’t.”
I take a deep breath and close my eyes. Greg Paine is gone and I’m alone in the silent white room.
Throughout my cases I added meanings, overlooked aspects, omitted circumstances, but I never bluntly lied. It’s all about convincing the jury, or the judge, that the prosecution doesn’t have enough evidence to prove the client guilty.
I stepped up to the line with Jebediah, but with Greg I’d be crossing it at light speed. Besides, I would free a man who will poison this city, all in the name of my promotion. Is that something I can live with?
Opening my eyes, I stand up and go for the door.
“Hey, what the fuck!” Greg shouts. “Are you defending me or not? You can’t spill bitch, or I’ll have your head on a platter by morning!”
Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Paine.
I lower my head and stare at the doorknob. Freedom from a lifetime of guilt is inches away. All I need to do is walk.
“Mr. Paine, I took an oath. I cannot ‘spill’ what you’ve told me, understood?”
From the corner of my eye I see he’s nodding.
I twist the doorknob. I’ve made my choice, I’m leaving. But if I do, how many criminals will I have to represent until I get to junior partner? Let’s face it, I was lucky to get this far with only two psychopaths for clients. Will I still have a job if I don’t represent Greg Paine? Mr. Baker will certainly face this as a betrayal.
“Mr. Paine, you’ll hear from me soon.” I slam the door behind me.
Leaning against the wall, I take a deep breath. The guard is kind enough not to stare. I hope someday, someone will understand what I’m about to do, and that this someone will forgive me, because I sure as hell won’t.
***
The gavel goes down and Greg goes straight to rehab. He’s also slapped with a half-million dollar fine, which of course is paid the same day.
Mr. Baker greets me as I walk out of court. “Well done, Miss Partner!” His arms open wide and I drown in them. He pats the top of my head gently. “They’re calling you the jury-whisperer, kiddo.”
This should make me proud, but I’m disgusted. Selling my soul for a promotion was the wrong choice, and now it’s over and I can’t change a thing. From this moment on, I won’t defend another man like Greg or Jebediah again. Now that I’m junior partner, I’ll spend my days making up to what I’ve done. A pro bono a week. That should be a good start.
I breathe in and free myself from Mr. Baker’s embrace, forcing out a smile.
“There’s an after-party at the office,” he says. “I know how you must be aching for those praises.” He wraps his arm gently over my shoulders and drags me toward a black limousine. Like the wizard he is, he whispers, “It will pass. Hang in there, kiddo.”
From a distance, a graying man with worn brown eyes glares at me. He’s Jennifer Wells’s father.
I stare back at him, begging silently for his forgiveness. But he says nothing, his eyes locked on mine as tears stroll down his cheek. Then he leaves.
25
Greg’s arms are as thick as watermelons and my head barely reaches up to his abs. I bet he could break my spine like a twig. If he hadn’t called me ‘ma’am,’ I’d never know this monster and the psycho I represented were the same person. Greg looks completely, and irrevocably, inhuman.
What happens on the inside shows on the outside, isn’t that how it goes?
“I heard you were promoted, right after you freed me,” Greg says, rescuing me from my memories.
“You freed him for a promotion?” Barbie asks from behind, disgust blatant in her tone.
“Yes.” I don’t turn back because I can’t look at Barbie. She used to be a lawyer too, certainly one with higher morals than mine. Only disappointment waits for me in her stare.
Greg scratches his bald head. “So is that why we’re here? You want to thank me, ma’am?”
“Hell, no.” I nod to the Queen. “I believe this is some sort of test.”
Her face shows no emotion. “Tell her how you died, Mr. Paine.”
Greg shrugs. “Shot in the chest.”
“From the beginning, if you may.”
My gut tells me to run, that no good can come from this. Looking for a way out, I glance back at Barbie by accident. Her whole body trembles, but her grip on Spritebreaker holds steady.
We’re both on the edge, but no matter what the Queen throws at me, I will not fail. My hand tightens around Foxberry.
“Fine,” Greg says. “It took me a while to get back to business after getting out of rehab. Just as things were picking up, I heard that Jenny’s father and his new lawyer had found proof of my dealings and were taking it to the police.” He stares at some point behind me and I follow his gaze. He’s studying Barbie, a sinuous evil hidden behind his eyes as he licks his cracked lips.
“I could use a third bride, you know.”
“Leave her alone,” I snarl.
Greg blinks, surprise all over him. “Didn’t take you for a lesbo, ma’am.”
“How you died, Mr. Paine?” the Queen urges.
Greg puffs out annoyance. “I’d be in deep trouble if they reached the cops. Not as in lifetime fucked, but as in six-feet-under fucked. My business partners didn’t like unnecessary risks, you know what I mean?” He stares at me as if he’s waiting for a sympathetic nod. I offer none, so he shrugs and continues. “I knew Jenny’s father and his lawyer would be heading to the police that day, so I inter
cepted them. My, hmm, employees, took Jenny’s dad to a bad neighborhood, and I took the lawyer to some woods. Made it look like a robbery.” He looks up to the starry sky with a sideways smile. “But Jenny’s dad was an ex-marine. He killed my people and went after me. That’s how I got here.”
There are three faded bullet marks on his chest. An eye for an eye.
The Queen wanted to show me the monster I am. It’s what this test was all about, and she’s right. I am a monster, but I hate her for reminding me. My blood boils and I strive to keep control. Turning to her, teeth gritted and hands closed into fists, I say, “I freed Greg and someone died because of it.” The words hurt as they leave my throat. “The lawyer’s life is on me, just like Jenny’s and Kasey’s. It’s all on me.”
The Queen looks down at me with disgust, as if I’m an insect she could smash at any time.
How dare she? She’s no better. Anger swims down my skin, muscles, and bones. There’s an eruption bursting inside me and it burns everything. Something births from the flames, something dark and powerful. It shouts inside me, You will pay, you rotten bitch!
This came from my Shade side. I felt the same way when I slashed that Shade’s face back at the forest.
“Santana,” Barry’s voice rings in my head. “Control these feelings. They’re Shade fuel. Anger and remorse, they’ll drive you mad, and if they control you, she wins.”
The Queen shoots Barry a glare as cold as the artic, then turns to me. “Not just any lawyer, Ms. Jones.” She nods at Barbie.
I turn around. Barbie’s tightly closed fists leak tiny drops of blood.
“Barbie?”
She glares past me, wolf teeth gritted. Her eyes are locked on Greg, and then it hits me again that Barbie was also a lawyer.
The lawyer Greg killed.
“No.” My legs fail and I drop to my knees. “No.”
I murdered my best friend. “This has to be a mistake.”
The Queen’s voice echoes in my head, “Your mistake, Santana Jones.”
Barbie’s blood, all over my hands. Forever.
“So she freed me and I killed her girlfriend?” Greg’s demon voice jumps in, along with claps from his monstrous hands. “Miss, you’re good!”
“Quiet,” the Queen commands.
Everything I touch withers. Everyone I love dies.
I thought I was poisonous, but that isn’t right. I’m fucking radioactive. Innocents have died in the name of my stupid promotion, and one of them was my best friend. Tears splash over my shaky palms. My skin has become a darker shade of blue.
Fitting for a monster.
“Remember when you asked me why I lived a life of crime, given I had all the money I needed?” Greg’s foul breath assaults my nostrils, his voice mixing with the echoes of my consciousness, echoes that call me murderer and assure me that I’m going to Hell.
I’m so sorry Barbie, please forgive me…
He leans in closer. “I told you, it’s just who I am.” He taps my shoulder and rises. “Guess this is just who you are, huh?”
A loud, painful howl comes from somewhere in the room, waking me from my despair.
Barbie.
Her fist just deformed Greg’s face. She rolls away, while Greg falls with one knee on the ground.
“You fucking whore!” He shouts as he stands up.
Barbie prowls at him, hair over her face, teeth grinding. She wields Spritebreaker in her right hand.
I try to get up but my limbs don’t obey.
Barbie and Greg bolt toward each other. Greg dodges Barbie’s blade and jabs her in the stomach so hard the strike could have split her in two. Her body smashes to the ground, her face against the floor. Spritebreaker spins away in broad circles.
Greg swaggers toward Barbie while his zombie wives cheer for him. He grabs her by the hair, proudly displaying her blood-soaked face. He turns Barbie so that she’s looking at him, and sits astride her, preventing her from moving.
“I’ll enjoy killing you a second time,” he snarls.
He punches her with a fist that’s easily the size of her face. Once, twice, three times. The hollow sound of his knuckles against her skin and bones calls to me, and I force myself to stand up.
“Let her go,” I say, unsheathing Foxberry, but Greg is in a trance; he keeps punching Barbie over and over. So I leap toward him, the element of surprise granting me a beautiful, deep cut across his chest.
Blood gushes out of the line I’ve drawn and sprays over me. Greg’s eyes go wide. Rage burns in them, but I’m not afraid. “Your fight is with me, you asshole!”
He stands up too easily for a wounded man. His shadow engulfs me, but I’m serene. I’ve accepted my fate. Oblivion or Hell, I deserve both. Innocent blood is all over me and will always be. Wherever I’m going though, I’m taking Greg along. This animal deserves no pity, no mercy, only pain.
Like me.
I grip Foxberry hard as Greg’s long Shade hands contort into claws.
“Once I said I’d have your head on a platter.” He leans forward on his haunches, but before he jumps at me, a blur with a faint shine crosses his neck.
A dark red trace follows the shine’s trajectory on his skin. Greg’s eyes widen, his mouth half agape, before his head falls to the ground, rolling away like a ball. His huge body collapses, a ton of dead weight that splatters blood all over the floor. His limbs contort for a moment before all of him dissolves into black ashes.
His zombie brides run, but Tweedledee and Tweedledum cut them in half before they cross the Hall.
Barbie is standing behind Greg’s ashes, puffing and glaring at me with mad eyes. She steps over what used to be Greg, with Spritebreaker in hand. Her face is smeared with her own crimson.
I drop to the ground, let Foxberry go. Tears flow nonstop. I can’t bear the way she looks at me: a mix of disappointment, hate, and hurt. I’d rather burn in Hell than watch this look any longer.
“Was it worth it?” she chides in between her teeth. “Was my life worth your promotion?”
I can’t go on with all this guilt, all this anger at everything and myself, I can’t. A loud cry bursts against my will and I start sobbing so hard that it’s impossible to breathe. “I’m so sorry, Barbie!”
She watches me crumble in front of her for a while. After moments that feel like eternity, she kneels down and hugs me.
“You couldn’t have known,” she mutters.
We stay like this for a while, me weeping and her in silence. It hurts, it all hurts so much. I hate myself and my bad choices; I hate everything. And Barbie forgave me? She shouldn’t!
“Forgiving you is my choice, not yours,” she says, having obviously linked with me.
A Lummeni says, “I thought Shades weren’t capable of being selfless.”
They’ve gathered on our right and left, curiosity stamped on their faces.
The Queen shoots a sharp look at the man who spoke. “They aren’t.” She glares at me. “She isn’t.”
Barbie’s voice is coarse as she says, “Come on, let’s get out of here. They won’t help John.”
“He’s a dead man.” I sniff, feeling exhausted and numb. “I killed him too.”
“We’re all dead; it’s only a matter of time.” She pats my head with genuine care. “Now get up.”
“I’m sorry.” I grab her rag of a shirt, pulling her close. I probably look pathetic but I can’t stop crying. “Barbie, I’m so, so sorry.”
“I’m sorry too, but we have bigger things to worry about.” She eyes Tweedledee and Tweedledum at the back of the room. They walk toward us, swords in hand.
“Let’s show them what the Pink Gurlz are made of.” Barbie winks and gets up.
I need to focus now. I can’t let them hurt Barbie, not after all she’s been through. I failed her once, and that won’t happen again. Ever.
Grabbing Foxberry, I stand up, knowing I’ll do anything in my power to save my friend.
A strange part of me thinks this will be fun
. My raging Shade part, naturally.
The Queen offers us a thin, vicious grin. “End them.”
Tweedledee and Tweedledum speed in our direction.
26
“Bitches!” It’s Barry’s voice, and when we turn back, we spot him driving through the room with his motorcycle full throttle.
Royals jump out of the way as he goes, and he reaches us before the Tweedles. With his free arm, Barry grabs Barbie, who grabs me, and the bike roars louder before we burst out into the gardens, flying under the night sky.
We ride fast, streets and people become a blur. The high speed pushes me out of the bike, so I tighten my grip around Barbie. Spritebreaker rests perfectly sheathed, tied around her back. Foxberry stays wrapped around my waist, and I let out a relieved breath. For a moment, I thought I had lost it.
Barry drives swiftly, dodging every obstacle and soul we meet, going down the many levels of Lummenia.
“What’s the plan?” Barbie asks.
Barry looks back and up to the sky, and I follow. A big round moon that occupies the left side of the canvas rests above, while Alice’s moon hangs close to it. Like a swarm of flies, a cascade of dark little figures hides the moons, their thousand voices mingling into one epic battle howl as they jump down from the upper walls. Barry guns the accelerator, and we reach the first wall, the entrance and exit to Lummenia.
How can you escape a place with no doors?
“Barry!”
“Hold on,” Barry yells. “And I mean hold the fuck on!”
The motorcycle swerves and rises like a horse on its hinged legs before driving up the wall. I squeeze the seat with my thighs, because gravity has joined speed in trying to throw me out of this bike.
The motor growls as we soar up, and my stomach slips to my feet. My grip on Barbie weakens, but before I have time to regain it, physics wins and I slip.
If it weren’t for Barbie holding my hand, I’d be falling right now. My feet dangle in the air as we keep rising up the wall. Terror mixed with shock accumulates at the bottom of my stomach. I’m too terrified to scream. Down below, hundreds of angry ants reach the wall, yelling and branding their swords.
