Page 11 of A Light in the Darkness
“There’s ladies around here,” Rook grumbles, shaking his head from across the kitchen.
“Who are you calling a lady?” Harley snaps, narrowing her eyes on him.
If Elaine hadn’t just resumed chopping the onion, I’d be worried Harley would snatch the knife and use my bouncer as target practice.
“Lady,” Kent amends. “Elaine is a lady. Cross is— Cross is a different breed.”
Harley grins at that, choosing to take his words as a compliment. The morale on the plane ride back was decidedly shit, and the last few days have been morose, so even I appreciate the mood lightening. It also helps that we’ve readjusted, setting our sights on another of Davos’ properties. We leave tomorrow, which is the soonest we can go since Dimitri just got back. It’s the whole reason we’ve all assembled here in my kitchen.
When Dimitri walks in with Michael at his side, he gets a single look at us before the laugh escapes him. “What is this, the Justice League? Has Elaine made us matching costumes?”
I’m guessing he’s punch-drunk from jet lag, but he doesn’t look tired. In fact, he looks genuinely amused with himself. “Funny.” I roll my eyes at him.
I want everyone else to disappear so that I can ask Dimitri what he learned about our friend in Washington, but we’re here to go over the plan for tomorrow’s raid. Once we’ve got everyone on the same page, I can pull him aside and hope no one cares enough to wonder what I want with him. Although, Elaine’s watchful eyes tell me she knowssomethingis going on.
I’ve never made my housekeeper privy to the inner workings of my family’s business, so she definitely doesn’t know what I do. She didn’t come to work for me until after Genevieve, and the ones after her were easily explained as flings I’d brought home from exotic locations. Elaine was able to accept that, but somewhere in between Claire and Rhea coming to stay and this unlikely ragtag crew I assembled, I think she’s started to pay attention. She’s not as hostile toward me anymore, at least.
“Ah, yes!” Rich grins. “Elaine was waiting on your measurements to finish them, actually.”
“Leave Elaine out of this.” Rook shakes his head, glowering. “If you want to measure dicks, I’m sure she’ll let you borrow a magnifying glass.”
Kent chokes on the beer he’s been nursing since we gathered down here, and Dom laughs so loud I think he’s about to piss himself. Rich opens his mouth for a retort, but Michael shuts it all down as he drops a folder on the island we’re all crowded around.
The photo paperclipped to the outside cover shows an old stone façade—sweeping arches and cobblestone turrets. It looks like a castle, like the place kids dream of going to visit. But dreams aren’t made in that castle—nightmares are.
It's a somber shift—one that sucks the humor right out of the room.
“Fuck.” Kent mutters, shaking his head in disbelief.
“A fucking castle?” Harley growls, capturing Elaine’s attention. I see her eyes cut to us from where she stands at the stove.
I haven’t gone to great lengths to hide any of what we’ve been up to from Elaine, and I won’t. If Davos hadn’t already been putting the pieces together, I’m sure my cover was blown when I threatened him with a painful death. There’s no one to pretend for now—Rhea knows the truth about our dark legacy, my demonic employer knows I’m gunning for him, and I couldn’t care less what the rest of the world thinks of me. This is more important than maintaining a clean image—this is about revenge. Mine, Claire’s,Genevieve’s, Courtney’s, Tinsley’s, Rhea’s… my mother’s. The only people in this world who have given me the things I need to survive have been women—and they’ve all been victims of a system that’s designed to ruin them.
Somewhere along the line, this stopped being about my need to make Davos pay for what he did to me, and it started being more about the other lives he’s ruined. If Elaine wants to know what I do, if she wants to see nameless faces when she closes her eyes, then she is welcome to it. My burden has gotten too heavy to bear alone.
Michael looks to me for approval to continue giving us the debrief. I nod, permission granted, and he flips the file open.
“You may not be ready for dinner after this,” he says coolly.
We went into our last mission guns blazing, and it proved to be the wrong approach. But this time, we’ve done our research. This time, we have someone on the inside. I didn’t ask for details, but Michael had a guy do a little reconnaissance. And judging by the contents in front of me, I’d say the man either works for the CIA or he missed his calling as a spy, because how he got this information out of there, I’ll never know.
“About twenty kilometers outside Auvergne, France. Just a little daytrip from the infamous Red Light District. But this,” Michael jabs his finger at the file, “This was set up for people who want more than just seven minutes in heaven.”
Next to him, Dimitri looks like he wants to vomit. His entire body seems to fold in on itself when he cringes, which is an impressive feat given he’s well over six and a half feet.
“It’s a brothel?” Harley guesses, looking at the rows of photos.
I’ve seen something like that before.
It’s a menu, organized by skin tone, hair color, eye color, body shape. No one has reached for the photos that scattered out—only head shots, thank fuck—but the way they fell, I can see that there are a few pages in the back with men on them.
“Something like that.” Michael says. “From what my source said, these captives come from other parts of the system… theyaren’t simply pulled off the street and tossed into this lifestyle. They’re… trained.”
Trained.
Now I feel like I’m gonna be sick. But I’ve come to realize that’s just the way the rage affects me some days. “Sometimes it’s a punishment. Sometimes, it’s a last chance to stay alive. Some of the prisoners are owned by the company, some of them have a contract for their work. ‘Rich politician whose wife cheated on him, so he wants her to suffer for a year’,sort of thing.”
“Jesus.” Dom groans.
