The Society

by Jillian Dodd

  I fling his hand off of me and take an offensive position, ready to strike. "I don't want to hurt you," I tell him as I make a lighting-fast maneuver that relieves him of his handgun.

  "Huntley," he says, holding his hands up in the air, "you have a good disguise on, but the fewer people who see you the better. It's imperative that we get you out of here before the cops come. They will ask a lot of questions. They will find out who you are. They will blow your cover all to hell. Is that what you want?"

  "I don't care."

  "I called my people, didn't you hear me? They are sending in a team to help the girls. They will get them out of here, I promise. But you have to let me get you out of here now. The sirens are getting closer."

  I look deep into his eyes. "Do you really promise? Not only will they get out, but they will be taken care of, given therapy, help, and guidance, not just put back on the streets? And your team, will they go back and arrest every single man at the auction today? And will they find the other girls who are living like this? And will they make sure Ana, the girl who was just killed, has a proper burial? I'll pay for it myself."

  "I absolutely promise," he says.

  I hand him back his gun and let him lead me out the door. He takes his jacket off and wraps it around my scantily clad body.

  "Keep your head down," he says then we run through the alley and out to the street where the crappy car we drove to the auction sits waiting.

  He opens the door and shoves me inside. Then he runs to the other side, gets in, and takes off.

  I pull my knees to my chest, put my head down, and rock back and forth in the seat until the car stops.

  I don't know where he's taken me. I don't even care. He helps me out of the car but when I stumble forward, he just picks me up and carries me into the house.

  "I have to go back," I say.

  He sets me down in a utility room of a different house than the one we were in earlier.

  "I cut off his penis," I say.

  "I know. I saw it on the floor. Stand here, and don't move," he says.

  I glance around the room we're in. The floor is shiny and has a drain in the middle of it. There is a shower head on one wall. Probably so he can hose himself down after a mission.

  Intrepid takes a crystal decanter and two tumblers out of a cabinet. He pours a glass and hands it to me. "Drink this."

  My hands shake as I bring the glass to my lips. The alcohol has a strong smell and burns going down, but I quickly swallow it.

  "Is this your house?" I ask him.

  "It's a safe house."

  "Do all of them have rooms like this?"

  "Sometimes, death clings to you," he says seriously. He pours himself a drink and shoots it back. Then he grabs a large black piece of plastic from the cabinet and spreads it across the floor. "Step into the middle of it," he instructs.

  He sets his glass down on the counter and then gently slides his suit jacket off my shoulders and arms, letting it fall onto the plastic. He removes his gun and the steak knife I used from his pocket and sets them down on the plastic, too.

  Now that his coat is off me, I look down at my body, and realize that I'm covered in blood and gore.

  Intrepid sees the look of horror on my face. "You did what you had to do."

  "But why did I have to do it?"

  He doesn't reply. Instead, he gets down on one knee and removes my combat boots and my socks. Then he stands in front of me, tugs on the hem of my tank top, and pulls it off over my head.

  Now, I have nothing on but a pair of white underwear. I look down and see that they are not pure white anymore but rather splotched with crimson. He strips them off me, too.

  "The next part is probably gonna hurt."

  He pours us each another drink and then clinks my glass but doesn't say a word. He doesn't have to. His eyes tell me everything. He knows what it feels like to have another man's blood on your skin, and he's seen horrors that he wishes he could forget.

  After we gulp down our drinks, he puts on a pair of reading glasses, picks a bit of the shoulder tattoo off my skin, and then quickly pulls it off. It hurts, causing tears to form in my eyes. It feels like what I suspect a full-body wax must feel like.

  One by one, he pulls the strips off with a loud ripping sound, taking my hair with it. He starts with my shoulder, moves to my hip, does my arms, and then finishes with the small ones on my feet, letting each piece fall onto the plastic.

  In some ways, it feels like I'm being stripped of my dignity, but at the same time, the plastic coverings kept some of the grossness off my skin.

  Finally, he leans around me and turns on the shower. Once he's determined the water is the right temperature, he motions for me to move closer to it. All I can see is the vision of Ana being brutally hosed off.

  I back away from it.

  "It's okay," he says. "You need to get yourself rinsed off."

  I do as he says, backing under the warm water and watching the pink-colors swirl down the drain. When I look up, I notice that Intrepid is undressing himself. He takes off his shoes, his pants, and his shirt, which are covered in the same grossness in the spots where he hugged me. He drops it all on the plastic, rolls the sheet up into a ball, puts it in a trash bag, and zip-ties it shut.

  Then he steps into the shower with me. He's still wearing a pair of boxer shorts, and I can't help but notice how perfect his skin is, save for a few pale freckles. It's an odd thing to notice when you are in the shower, naked and with a man, but it's what I focus on.

  When he turns around, I get a glimpse of a long, thin scar on the back of his right arm along with two circular-shaped scars puckered at the edges high on his left shoulder. There is no matching scar on his front, but based on the placement, more than likely, the bullets hit bone and never went clean through.

  He puts a strong-smelling antibacterial soap into his hand and then rubs it across his body, cleaning himself. Next, he does the same to me, taking extra time with my hair. Once we are clean, he lets the water run down the drain for quite some time. Then he turns off the shower, takes my hand, and leads me through a doorway, shutting the door and leaving the business side of things behind us.

  The house is ornately decorated and a contrast to the stark utilitarian room we were just in. I follow him through a parlor to a grand front entry with an elaborately carved staircase, and then we go up it and down a hall.

  He opens the door to a large room with a four-poster bed and a marble fireplace, leading me through the room to a pristine white-and-gray marble bathroom. The shower is much more luxurious than the one downstairs and has multiple jets, dual shower heads, and an optional rainforest shower overhead.

  He turns the shower on from a panel on the wall, sets the temperature, and then hands me a fluffy white towel.

  I wrap it around myself, thankful to not have to be naked in front of him anymore. Even though I was in the shower with him, it never felt remotely sexual.

  "Do we need another shower?"

  "Yes," he says. "The first was simply utilitarian. To get off the--"

  "You don't need to say it." I step into the shower with the towel still wrapped around me. I close my eyes, running my hands through my hair and pushing it back off my face, but I still feel unsettled. "I never expected to see what I did today," I say, keeping my eyes closed. "It might have been different if I had known what I would find at his house. I knew he bought girls, but I didn't know he kept them in cages or allowed them to be tortured and killed by his guards when he was done with them."

  I feel Intrepid get closer to me.

  I slowly open my eyes, water falling through my lashes as I look up at him. He grabs a bottle of body wash and flips it over. I hold my hand beneath it, catching the Bvlgari-scented wash in my hand.

  We lock eyes.

  "Sometimes, you are caught off guard in our business. You see things you'll wish you could forget," he says. "But you handled it perfectly. You did what you set out to do."

  "No, I
didn't. I did what I did out of pure rage. There was nothing remotely professional about it. From cutting it off to spraying him with sixty rounds when a single shot would have sufficed."

  He pours soap in his hands and then uses it to massage my bare shoulders. I always thought, if I were ever lucky enough to be in a shower with my spy crush, the great Intrepid, we would be together sexually, not talking shop. But then he starts washing my hair.

  And it feels good. Like something my mother did when I was upset, almost therapeutic. He's trying to help me. Heal me with shampoo. But some things can't be washed away, no matter how much soap you use. Some things, you will always carry with you.

  The thing is, I won't ever think about the disgustingness of what I did to the money man again, but I'll never forget the way those girls looked. Like the vision of my mother's death, I'll keep those girls with me, driving me until I get revenge on the people behind all of this.

  I'm going to unravel this plot piece by piece.

  "What are you thinking about?" Intrepid asks.

  "Retribution," I state.

  When he nods in agreement, I realize he's done washing my hair.

  I get out of the shower, grab another towel, hand one to him, and then cover myself with a dry towel before dropping the wet one to the floor.

  I watch as he wraps the towel around himself and slips off his boxers.

  "I have a confession," I tell him as he hands me a pale blue velour robe with the British royal crest. "You steal this from Buckingham Palace?"

  He laughs. "Hey, it's not every day you get invited to stay there. You gotta take something to remember it by. What's your confession?"

  "I knew who you were in Montrovia. I knew your code name was Intrepid. In fact, I'd studied all your cases for my senior dissertation."

  He chuckles. "I'm not retired even though that's the rumor. Is that why you knocked me out?"

  "Well, I had heard the rumor and wasn't sure whose side you were on."

  "What did your gut tell you?" he asks.

  "That you're a good man."

  "But you knocked me out anyway?" he says with a laugh. "That wasn't very nice."

  "There was no time to explain," I reply.

  "Let's go downstairs and have another drink," he offers, "while we wait for your brother, the doctor, and that hot Dr. Kate to get here."

  "I don't need a doctor."

  "Well, you're getting one anyway. You have a massive bruise on your ribs, your cheek is swollen, your pupils are dilated, and you look like you rolled down a flight of stairs. You have bruises and contusions everywhere--and most likely, a concussion."

  "I did actually. Roll down a flight of stairs. Got pushed. The good news is, the money man shot the guy who pushed me."

  Intrepid pours us each a drink and sits on the couch next to me. "I want you to take a few days off. Heal up. It will take some time to go through the man's computer and phone. We need to verify what he told you was true before we decide on our next move."

  "Does that mean I get to go back to Lorenzo's tonight?"

  "If the doctor gives you the all-clear, then yes."

  We sit together in silence, coming down from the adrenaline rush of earlier.

  But we aren't alone for long. Pretty soon, the team arrives.

  Ari and some doctor fuss over me while Intrepid flirts with Dr. Kate.

  I get a thumbs-up from the doctor along with a baggie full of pain pills. When I start to protest, he says, "Trust me, tomorrow, you'll be glad you have them."

  Ari drives me from the safe house to Lorenzo's. He doesn't say much. We've already said enough.

  "I don't want you going on missions like that without me again," he says. "I was a wreck the whole time."

  "That's why you can't go with me. We care too much about each other." I look into my brother's eyes. I can see that he is upset, so I decide to change the subject. "I didn't get a chance to tell you, but I spoke to the dean of my school this morning. He confirmed that we are Kelley Bond's and Ares Von Allister's children."

  "We've talked enough," he says, studying my face. "You need to get some rest. And maybe some counseling."

  "I'll be fine, Ari."

  "I know," he says, patting my hand.

  By the time we get there, it's late. Chauncey is asleep, but Lorenzo is waiting up for me. I realize he's been worried sick, and I should have thought to call him to let him know that I was okay.

  "You are hurt," is the first thing he says.

  "Just a few bruises. I'll be fine."

  He and my brother exchange a look.

  "She was checked out by a doctor," Ari tells him. "He says she'll probably be sore tomorrow. We've had a long day. I think it's best if we all retire."

  "Of course," Lorenzo says, ringing for the butler. "I'll have you taken to your room straightaway."

  After Ari gives me a good-night kiss on the cheek, Lorenzo leads me into his bedroom where we both sit on the bed.

  "Tell me what happened."

  "If it's okay, can we talk about it tomorrow?" I close my eyes and sigh, not wanting to relive it all again.

  He studies my face and then nods in understanding. "Are you sure you're okay?"

  "Physically, yes, but this mission was rough emotionally."

  "Maybe some sweets would help," he says with a slightly forced grin. "Chauncey helped make brownies after school today."

  "I didn't have any dinner," I admit.

  "Why don't I run a bath for you and have something made for you to eat?"

  "I think I'd rather lie in bed with you," I say pathetically.

  He makes a quick call to the kitchen then pulls me into a hug and holds me for a really long time.

  MISSION:COMPLETE

  "Morning, darling," Lorenzo says, waking me up with kisses that flutter across the back of my shoulder.

  "Mmm," I say, not really awake yet.

  "If you are feeling up to it, I'd like to leave for Montrovia first thing this morning. I thought we could drop Chauncey off at school on the way."

  "Need more sleep," I say, covering my head with a pillow. Even with Lorenzo's ultra-soft sheets and decadently fluffy pillow top mattress, my whole body hurts.

  He slides the covers down to my waist. Normally, when I sleep in the same bed with him, I wear shorts and a tank top. I never wear anything too sexy because I don't want to tempt him. Although that's probably stupid on my part. I know he wants to sleep with me but, for now at least, he seems content with just having me close by. He's okay with the fact that we haven't gone beyond second base.

  Which is really crazy when I think about it. He's twenty-three years old. He has a past. And I don't think any girl has ever made him wait.

  I'm not doing it on purpose. It's not because of my religion. Not because I'm a virgin. It's certainly not because of my personal beliefs. At Blackwood, they ingrained in us that sex was just physical pleasure. That there shouldn't be any emotional connection.

  With Lorenzo, I can't stop my feelings. I know that being intimate with him in that way would be my undoing. It's the only barrier I have left.

  It's incredible to think of how much I have changed since I left Blackwood. I went from being ruled simply by instinct, fear, and primal rules of engagement to wanting things I never thought were in the cards for me.

  I assumed my life would go a certain way. I would work against the bad guys until one of them killed me. I'd get my name on a wall somewhere that no one would ever see. And no one would cry over the fact that I was gone. I was completely expendable.

  Now, I'm going against my training. I'm forming relationships, caring, trusting--and even loving.

  Lorenzo's fingers float across my collarbone, and he kisses the back of my neck. "You can sleep on the jet."

  "That's true. And I probably should. When we get to Montrovia, I have so much to do."

  "You mean, we have so much to do. After what happened at the bank in Zurich, there's no way you're going alone."

  "I was goi
ng to have Ari come with me," I say, rolling over to face him. When I land on my bruised rib, I take in a sharp breath as the pain hits me.

  "You're hurting."

  "I'll be okay. Nothing a few days of taking it easy won't fix."

  "When you are feeling up to it, I will be accompanying you to the bank along with your brother. This takes priority over everything else. Not only do we need to find out what is in the lockbox, but we also need to get the list of places your passports were stamped with and cross-reference those with the photos from the locket. With everything you went through, I forgot to tell you, but Ari believes they have a viable DNA sample from Ares Von Allister. Don't have any idea where he got that from. Hopefully, they didn't have to dig the poor man up."

  "They didn't. They found a sample on some earplugs in his shooting range. I didn't get a chance to ask you, but were you invited to join The Society? Ari and Daniel had interviews."

  "I am a legacy, so I didn't have to go through the interview process. I've already been accepted as a member."

  "Do you think The Society is sinister?"

  He shakes his head and looks at me funny. "Why would you think that?"

  "Because they don't let women in, which means they must be up to no good," I tease.

  "My father was a member, as was his father before him, and his grandfather before him. Our family has been a part of it since the Renaissance. I can assure you, it is simply a networking club for the wealthy and powerful of the world."

  "Malcolm Prescott told me the group likes to gently guide the world without resorting to politics. Isn't that sort of, I don't know, illegal maybe?"

  "I believe any group that wants only peace for the world is good to be a part of. And it never hurts to know the right people if you do need help. At just the last meeting, we were discussing the world hunger crisis and how to solve it."

  "Did you come up with a solution? Like maybe funneling some of the money spent on wars to feed the people?"

  "We discussed more than that--ways to reduce the greenhouse effects, our effects on the environment, eating less meat, more environmentally friendly forms of energy, vaccines, contraception, and the general health of the world. The best thing about it is that there are people in the group who have the ability to make things happen, to bring about change for the betterment of all mankind."