CH 10: The Monsters Within
Daniel was ready to pack up, and call it a day. He spent the day with Felix at the Emerald City sales center. The public's reaction to the project has been overwhelming. It exceeded their every expectation. The housing market in the City of Toronto was hot. The demand far exceeded the supply, which in turn caused a spike in pricing. Many of the younger generations simply couldn't afford the suburban house with the white picket fence, but what they could afford was a condo apartment, and that's exactly what they were offering.
Many first time buyers welcomed the chance to purchase an affordable condo, at a fraction of the price for a detached house. If there's one thing Black Crown Corp. does well, it was their market research. It's only been a week since the pre-sale release, and they were already thirty-percent sold out. At the rate they're going now, they'll most likely sell out by the end of the month. With Kára Lang's seed investment, and now the revenue generated from the pre-sale, Emerald City was destined for greatness. And it didn't hurt that Daniel's wallet was getting fatter by the second, either.
Daniel grabbed his jacket, and his keys.
There came a knock.
"Come in."
"Mr. Rosen."
Daniel recognized the gentleman right away. It was Manny Arrastía. He was the assistant safety supervisor of the Emerald City project. Daniel had met the man a handful of times. Though they had a working relationship, it's the first time Daniel's ever met Manny off site, and at Black Crown Corp.'s head office, of all places.
"I'm sorry to barge in on you like this, Mr. Rosen, but I would like a moment of your time."
Daniel could already tell he wasn't going to like what he was about to hear. "Please, Manny, have a seat."
"I'll stand. Thank you."
"What can I do for you?"
"I've recently conducted a quality assurance check on the concrete bricks we're using for Emerald City. I suspect they're made from recycled debris and fillers, as opposed to hard rock. In all twelve of those inspections, they've failed QA. The concrete bricks are crucial, for they reinforce the foundation of the structure. If the concrete is below par, such as they are in this case, they won't be able to transfer the load from the structure to the ground, and the foundation will give way. This is serious, Mr. Rosen, and that's why I've brought it to your attention."
"Have you brought this up with Paul?"
"I have."
"And what did he say?"
"He said he'll handle it." Manny explained, "But you don't understand, Mr. Rosen, Paul's not been himself lately. And quite honestly, I have a legal obligation to write up any safety citations that I feel don't meet the Building Infrastructure Safety Code."
Daniel held up his hand, "I've heard enough, Mr. Arrastía. I appreciate your concern, and your diligence in the matter, but it's uncalled for. I have the utmost faith in Paul's ability to supervise the site. Let's not forget that he's been doing this his whole life. He's far more experienced than you give him credit for. And I trust his better judgement."
"But —"
"If you bring this up again, Mr. Arrastía, you will not only find yourself out of a job, but with a libel suit lodged against you for slander. I will not sit idly by, and have you taint the reputation of Black Crown Corp. with such baseless accusations of negligence."
"I see. Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Rosen."
"Thank you."
And with that, the matter was settled.
Daniel didn't care what Manny Arrastía had to say. He's had a taste of the good life, and he wasn't going back. Besides, that's what Paul Dierden was for.
His cell phone rang. He didn't want to pick up. But the caller ID indicated it was his lovely wife. And that was never a good thing.
- o -
The club was roaring with life, as the lights swirled, the music boomed, and the people danced. They had a VIP booth up front, near the sound stage. Security guarded the entrance, as the area was private, and entry was privy to invites only.
The group of three men were accompanied by plenty of women, though they weren't on a first name basis.
"One, two, three!"
They raised their shot glass, tapped the table, and downed the shot in one gulp.
"Ugh!"
"Woah!" Colin screamed, "Jesus! That fucking burns."
Since Felix's been back from his hiatus, he's been out almost every other night. He missed his family, dearly, but he missed his friends, and his bachelorhood lifestyle, even more so. Felix loved Delphine. And he loved everything she, and married life, had to offer. But the transition was not without hardship. For one thing, Felix missed the party, the madness, and most certainly of all, his freedom. And that's exactly how he ended up here. His name and his money afforded him a lifestyle, a lifestyle Delphine couldn't fulfill, though Felix had no intention of leaving her, not for one second. The way he saw it, he could have the best of both worlds.
Felix threw back another shot; his fifth one this evening. And he chased it down with a sip of orange juice.
"Come on, Fee, you can't tell me you don't miss this." Brent took a swig of beer, "Cause if you tell me otherwise, you're a fucking liar."
"I do miss it, but nothing's changed. I am here, aren't I?"
"I can't believe you got fucking married, dude. It's the stupidest thing you can do." Colin gave the brunette's breast a squeeze, to demonstrate a point, "This is the sweet life, right here. Why would you willingly let yourself be tied to a ball and chain?"
"Actually, Delphine was the one that proposed to me."
Brent's mouth dropped, "She did not!"
"Yeah. She did."
"And you said yes?! That just screams desperation! Tick tock. My ovaries are drying up."
"I don't find it desperate, at all. In fact, it was pretty romantic."
"Lame."
"It's nice to have someone to share everything with. And when you have that anchor in your life, it makes you feel grounded. It makes everything you do substantially more meaningful. Not everything is about boozing and bed hopping, guys. And when you do find that special someone, you'll give this all up in a heartbeat."
Both Colin and Brent exchanged a look, and they burst out laughing.
"Fucking Hell, Felix, I didn't realize you swallowed a copy of 'Eat, Pray, Love'."
"You guys are fucking arseholes." Felix threw down another shot. "And I fucking love you for it."
"That's the spirit!"
The music was deafening, to the point where you had to shout to hear one another. Felix didn't hear his phone ring, but he most certainly felt it vibrate.
It was Alison.
Felix picked up. He couldn't hear her, not clearly, but he did catch many of the key words, and that was enough to sober him up. It was an emergency; Sarah was in the hospital.
"I have to go."
"Already?" Colin objected, "But Drake hasn't even performed yet."
Felix didn't care. He cut through the sea of bodies, and shot straight out the door. He was already tipsy from all the drinks he's had, but he was by no means drunk. It's not the first time he's driven tipsy before either. And besides, the hospital was only a fifteen minute drive. Felix convinced himself that he'll be fine. The cool night air tickled his chest as he filled his lungs. He took several deep breaths to clear his head. When he felt he was ready, Felix got in his Mercedes AMG GT, and he peeled out of the parking lot.
The AMG GT could do zero to sixty in 3.3 seconds. But Felix had no intention of doing that. He drove well within the speed limit, as not to draw any unwanted attention from the authorities. The last thing he needed was to be pulled over. He wasn't drunk. But Felix was certain he wasn't within the legal limits to drive.
The lights turned yellow, and already, Felix pressed on the brakes, and brought the car to a gentle halt. While he waited, Felix assessed the area, and gave the street a good hard look. He even gave the car next to him a quick glance. And when drew his gaze up front again, unbeknownst to him, the lights had turned green already. Felix pressed on the gas, and the car sped off.
What Felix didn't realize was the green light was from the traffic light over at the next stop. His vision had betrayed him. The light was still red when he ran through the intersection. By the time Felix realized the grave error of his mistake, it was already too late. His midnight blue car had plowed into two crossing pedestrians. One of the bodies flew into oncoming traffic. The other body rolled onto the windshield, and shattered it into obliteration.
Felix screamed as he swerved the car to the far right. The sport car careened off the road, and onto the sidewalk. The car didn't stop till it smashed through the window of a dainty café.
The airbags deployed, and it knocked Felix out cold.
The last thing that registered was a bloody scream.
- o -
"Hi. You've reached the voicemail of Donnie Hendrix. I'm not available to take your call right now. Please leave your name, number, and a brief message, and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks. And have a great day."
- o -
They were crowded in a private room.
Sarah was rushed to the emergency room via ambulance. After hours and countless scans and diagnostics, the attending ER physician downgraded Sarah's condition from critical to fair. Her vital signs were stable and within normal limits. A chest x-ray determined that Sarah had hairline fractures to her first and second rib. And that in turn caused a bit of swelling in her chest cavity. The doctors suspect she has a mild concussion as well, and were keeping a close eye on her intracranial pressure. Thankfully, the prognosis was bright. But that was about the only thing that was bright.
The room was somber. Alison, Rachel, Kira, and Daniel were by Sarah's bedside. The other half of the Black family were missing; that included: Cosima, Donnie, Delphine, and most definitely Paul. Alison's eyes were red and swollen, from all the crying she did. Rachel did not shed one tear, for she knew crying wasn't the answer; it wouldn't help the situation. Rachel rested on the couch, and she held Kira in her arms.
On the outside, Rachel Duncan Black may appear cold and ruthless, that valued her work above all else. But that couldn't be farther from the truth. To Rachel, her family meant everything to her, though it may not seem like it at times. She was the eldest of all the Black children. And she was protective of her siblings. She felt incredibly guilty for not being there to protect Cosima, when Kára Lang viciously assaulted her in a fit of drug-induced rage. Even after all these years, that burden of guilt hadn't lessened, which was why she let Cosima get away with so much. And now, she's failed Sarah, too. She wasn't there to protect her. If anything happened to her, she would never forgive herself. The last thing they said to each other was said from a place of hatred and anger.
"Are you crying, Auntie Rachel?"
Rachel's eyes were brimming with emotions, but she refused to shed a tear. Instead, she pulled Kira in and kissed her. "I'm just glad you and your mommy are okay."
"What about daddy?"
Alison's temper flared at the mere mention of Paul, "I'll break his legs if he dares come near you, or Sarah."
Kira said nothing, nor did she know what to say.
Daniel finished his call, and rejoined the group. He handed Rachel a card, with an address written on the back. "You were right."
Rachel read the address, and said, "I have to go."
"Do you want me to come with you."
"No. I want you here with Alison and Kira. I want to know that they're taken care of while I'm away."
Daniel understood completely; it was one of the qualities he admired about Rachel.
Rachel kissed Kira one last time, "You be good for Alison and Daniel, okay, monkey?"
Alison knew exactly where Rachel was going, yet she made no effort to stop her.
- o -
The cell phone was on the floor, broken into tens of tiny pieces.
"Please, don't make me. I don't want to."
"We're not making you do anything, Mr. Hendrix. This is your own doing. You have no one to blame but yourself."
"Please..."
"Either you sign it, or my boys will pay a visit to that pretty wife of yours. I've never said no to a tight piece of ass before. I don't see why I would start now."
"Don't you dare fucking touch her, you piece of shit!"
"Then sign it!"
Donnie held the pen in his quivering hand. He couldn't steady himself, no matter how hard he tried.
"Do not make me ask you again."
With a heavy conscience, Donnie waved the pen, and did as he said.
"Excellent."
The moment he signed on that dotted line, Donnie knew he lost soul, but more importantly, he knew he had lost Alison forever.
There was no coming back from this. None, whatsoever.
- o -
The presidential suite sat on the highest floor of this particular hotel. Black Crown Corp. owned many commercial properties, but this place was special. This was one of Paul's earliest projects since he joined the company. And it was the first place that came to mind when he needed a place to lay low.
Paul had both his hands submerged in an ice bucket. His knuckles were bruised and swollen. It's been hours since his confrontation with Sarah, and since then, the alcohol has worn off, and his clarity returned. Frame by frame, Paul replayed the scene over and over again, and the more he did, the more he rued his actions. What he did was inexcusable. Though Sarah was in the wrong, he never, ever, should have laid hands on her, not like that, and most certainly not in front of Kira.
Paul yearned to know how Sarah was doing. But he was too weak to check up on her. There was no other way to describe it: he felt undone. His life was in shambles, and he didn't know what to do about it. He's lost his wife, his daughter, his family, and now, his own self respect. There was nothing left. Or so he thought.
A knock sounded at the door.
Paul paid it no mind.
"Mr. Dierden."
It was followed by several more knocks.
"Mr. Dierden. Either you open this door, or we break it down."
Begrudgingly, Paul complied. He recognized the uniform through the peephole. It was hotel security. Paul undid the dead bolt, and opened the door.
"Mr. Dierden. The Metro Toronto Police would like to have a few words with you. They've asked us to escort you downstairs."
Paul knew this was coming. He didn't run from it. He was going to face this, and accept responsibility for his actions. And hopefully, somehow, someway, that would be enough to make amends down the road.
Three security guards escorted Paul into an elevator, and they took him down to the underground parking lot.
Paul thought nothing of it. He thought there was a police cruiser on standby, ready to transport him to a precinct. But he was wrong. The guards took him to a secluded area. The space was devoid of any vehicles, except one. And all the exit points had been blocked off. He didn't know what to make of this.
"I thought you said the police —"
A car door opened, and it slammed shut.
"Rachel?"
Paul stopped dead in his tracks. Something was wrong. Rachel was in street clothes, and a pair of runners; that was the first giveaway. And if that wasn't enough, the fact that she made up an elaborate lie, just so she could lure him here, was another dead giveaway.
Rachel popped the trunk, and from it, she retrieved a bat. It was a 33" adult wood baseball bat; it was the best she could get on such a short notice.
"Rachel." Paul pleaded, "Please, hear me out."
Rachel heard nothing. She charged at Paul with long strides, and ferocious strikes. She struck him indeterminately. At this point, it didn't matter where the bat landed, as long as it landed. Rachel was merciless in her assault. The bat ravaged away at Paul's defense. It struck him, again and again, and again.
Paul did his best to shield himself from the repeated blows, but his efforts were futile. He took a savage beating; one of the worst in his life. And when he could no longer intelligibly defend himself, he was reduced to a ball on the floor, in a fetal position as he used whatever means to shield his head.
Mere minutes seemed like an eternity. Eventually, winded and tired, Rachel ceased her assault to catch a much needed breather.
It was now or never. When the flurry of blows had finally stopped, Paul used the window of opportunity to scramble to his feet, and make a break for it. He ran for the nearest fire exit, but the guards there wouldn't budge. And when he tried to barge through them, one guard held him down, while the other kicked him in the face.
Paul was on his knees when Rachel caught up with him, and she nailed him right in the chest. The bat made a sickly sound when it came in contact with his collarbone.
"Please..."
Rachel nudged him onto his back, and she kept him there with a firm foot. "The only reason you're alive and breathing, is because Sarah is alive and breathing."
Paul gasped for desperate breaths, "Please, Rachel. You...have to believe me. I...I didn't mean to... hurt her."
Rachel didn't believe him. Not for once second. She raised the bat high above her head, and with nothing but deadly precision, she smashed Paul's left kneecap.
The lot was no longer empty. It was filled with the reverberation of Paul's blood curdling screams.
"That's for cheating on Sarah!"
The bat came down again, only this time, it was Paul's right kneecap.
"That's for laying your filthy hands on my sister!"
And lastly, with the butt of her bat, Rachel wound her arms back and she smashed his nose in. The cartilage made a nauseating cracking sound. And soon, it was replaced with violent gurgles, as blood overfilled his airway.
"That's for being a piece of shit."
Paul laid there, in a pool of his own blood, as he struggled to breathe.
With her foot, Rachel rolled Paul onto his side, so he didn't choke to death.
Rachel handed the bloodied bat to one of the guards, and said, "Make sure he doesn't fucking die."
- o -
The sun broke at the crack of dawn. There wasn't a single cloud in the sky.
The bright sunlight kissed her face, and it roused Cosima from the clutches of her uneventful sleep. Cosima laid there, and she blinked several times to rid the blur from her vision. It took her longer than usual to realize the blurriness was due in part to the fact that she didn't have her glasses. Cosima swept her hands blindly, in every direction, until her hand came upon the nightstand, and with it, her prescription lenses.
Cosima was certain she was lying still, but the room around her was spinning endlessly. And then there was her head. It was throbbing with an intense pulse; every pulsate felt like a hammer to a nail. It was every bit as maddening as it was painful.
"Good morning."
Cosima's dull reaction couldn't even bother to be startled by the sound of another voice, or the presence of another being, entirely. With much difficulty, and extraordinary effort, Cosima propped herself up. And there, at the foot of the bed with a cup of steaming hot tea, was Kára Lang, in the flesh.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
"Last time I checked, this was my townhouse."
It was true. And that's when Cosima finally noticed the foreign room she was in. This wasn't her bed. And this was most certainly not her place. It took a bit of time, but eventually, Cosima connected the dots. In a state of severe panic, Cosima threw the covers back. And to her relief, she was fully clothed, but not in her own clothes, though.
"Your clothes were soiled, so I gave you a fresh change. I hope you don't mind."
Cosima grabbed her head, as the throbbing intensified with every passing second. "How long was I out for?"
"Almost eighteen hours."
"Eighteen hours?!" Was Cosima's incredulous response. "What the fuck?!"
"The bathroom's over there." Kára pointed out, "Go wash up. And I'll explain later."
It wasn't a half bad idea. Cosima needed to wash the grogginess away. She eyed Kára Lang one last time, before she threw her legs over, and made the dreadful trek across the room. Cosima ran the tap, and she washed away the sickliness. The sensation was refreshing. And it energized her.
Cosima put her glasses back on, as she stared at her own reflection. She looked sickly. Cosima went to use the toilet, but before she could, something caught her eye. By the toilet bowl, were red droplets of what appeared to be blood. The blood had oxidized and was flakey to the touch. She followed the trail, and she found more of it on the side of the tub.
Cosima threw the shower curtains back. And she screamed at the top of her fucking lungs!
Shay was in the bath tub. And there, on the side of her neck, was a cavernous wound. The gash was so profound, it looked like a chunk of her neck was missing. Shay was pale and lifeless. Her eyes were open, and glazed over.
It was unmistakable. Shay was dead.
When Cosima couldn't scream anymore, she simply stood there, unable to think, nor speak, nor react.
Kára leaned against the door frame, and said, "What? Don't recognize your own handiwork?"
Cosima stuttered, "What...what?"
"It was you, Cosima. You killed Shay."
- o -
A/N: Eat, Pray, Love...me?