“Because I’d like to dance with you to a song that has meaning, so that neither one of us forget this dance.” Damn, I wanted to be close to her. I had never felt that way about someone I just met. No, it wasn’t love, but a deep intrigue. It was a pull, gravity.
She liked that and decided to play along, this time, really looking at me. I could tell in her eyes she saw something she liked. Instead, she said, “You can’t dance with me, but I’ll tell you my favorite canción.” That’s when I caught the slight hum of an accent. It sounded deep, ingrained into her core, one of those accents that would never completely go away no matter how much practice she put in. I loved it and needed to hear more from this enchanting woman.
“Why?” I asked, now curious.
She stood up straighter, her leg now touching mine and said, “Because, as beautiful as you are, I can tell that you are too young to be in here. If I dance with you now, it would just encourage you to come back, and I can’t promote bad behavior.”
I looked at her, now amused. “I bet that the real reason you don’t want to dance with me is that you know that if you do, you’ll want to be as bad as possible.”
She laughed at that and I knew it was the truth.
I continued, “I am younger than you, I’m sure, but, one dance, or even one conversation with me will change your mind. I promise that I have much to offer. You can’t be more than five years older than me anyway and do you really want to miss out on something that could be… special?”
She leaned back and contemplated that for a few minutes then told me, “Tell the dj to put on something slow. You’re gonna have to work at getting to know anything about me and I’ll be the judge of that by how you dance.”
That night, we danced to four songs in a row, sweating, with me fighting the urge to touch her, feel her skin against mine. I didn’t want it to end and I refused to leave the club without knowing her phone number. After the way we moved together, it wasn’t hard to get it because she wanted to see me again too. A week later, my driver was picking her up in my Aston Martin, to her surprise, and dropping her off at my favorite restaurant.
We continued to spend time together, her slow to trust, me doing what I could to earn it. Months later, we finally made it official in more ways than one. It was the best night of my life; the way she touched me as if she had the power to pull a climax from me just by brushing her fingertips against my skin. There was electricity there, it had to be. I felt the shocks spread through my body as I gave her more than I even knew I had. That night, I learned more about making love than I’m sure even the most practiced experts knew.
To this day, the memory of it still makes my body quiver. Selene was so absolutely thorough and sure of herself that even the confidence that I normally give off in waves was waning. I had trembled under her and all I wanted to do was make her feel half of what I felt.
Thinking back on those wonderful memories, all I want to do now is hurry and rush to see her. I’m going to make this workout with my dad as quick as possible. I throw on some grey sweats, a black tank top, my grey and white Nikes, and trek downstairs to find my dad. As I’m walking past the main hallway to reach the basement stairs, my daddy’s best friend and business partner Damien, is standing at the end of the hallway, all black designer business suit on, hair in a fresh brush cut, clearly waiting for me. I look at the medium height dark skinned man and wave. There’s obviously some kind of change in plans for tonight if Damien is here. I stop a few feet in front of him and cross my arms.
“What’s up D?” I ask, head tilted to the side. Although Damien is my daddy’s best friend, he’s more of a big brother to me than an uncle and has always been one of the first people I would talk to if I needed to clean up any mess I made. He is absolutely reliable and whatever he does with my father and the business makes him a valuable asset.
“I need you to take a ride with me. Get your jacket, Jason’s waiting for you.” He may sound cool and collected, but I can still see through his relaxed demeanor and tell that he’s not too happy with my father right now. But, I know enough not to ask him about it until we are on our way.
“Um, ok. Just, give me a sec,” I tell him as I head back upstairs to my room to grab a light jacket and ponder where we could possibly be going.
D holds the door for me as I slide in his silver Camaro. The leather seats are cool against my back, the recently detailed interior sparkles, and his car freshener reminds me of strawberries. I buckle up and he does the same before speeding off into the night. I reach for my phone, slightly disappointed at the prospect of not seeing Selene until even later tonight. I sigh heavily.
Sumn’s up wit my dad. I’ll let u kno asap when I’m comin thru, I text.
Ok. I guess I’ll jus take a long shower then. Alone, she responds.
I sigh even louder this time. Ass.
Lol. I kno. I can’t help it, I’ve learned frm the best.
I shake my head, put my phone back in my jacket pocket, and turn my attention to Damien who is weaving through traffic, clearly even more irritated than before. Road rage, I assume. From the landmarks around us, it seems safe to say that we’re headed to my daddy’s company, but the manufacturing warehouses in the business district, not the corporate office downtown.
“D, what’s the deal?” I ask him.
We turn a corner and then Damien answers carefully, “Since you’re going to start being a part of the business, there are some things you need to see first.”
“Okay,” I say knowing that there is obviously something more to the story than that or he wouldn’t be having this scowl on his face. “So, what’s wrong with that?”
“I just don’t think this is the right way to go about it. He should talk to you about these things first, not just throw it on you.” Boy… that was telling. Damien grips the steering wheel tighter as if he could crush it into a thousand pieces.
“You guys deal with weaponry. I know that it can’t be all rainbows and sunshine,” I say, slightly offended at his insinuation that I can’t handle it or am oblivious to what is going on.
“No,” he nearly snaps. “No, Rayne. Your father should have been telling you these things a long time ago, and now he just wants to throw you into it. I don’t think it’s right.”
“I think you’re exaggerating D,” I say as I turn back to look at the road, the buildings are nothing but blurs as we zip by.
“Dammit Rayne, you just don’t get it. You’ll see.” We both sit silently for the rest of the drive, irritated at each other for different reasons. Five minutes later, we pull up to a security gate. The guard comes up to the car, points his flashlight inside and then waits for Damien to roll down the window.
Damien flashes his id and then the guard hands him some kind of computer speaker type thing. Damien speaks his deep, dominant voice into it. “Damien Carson. Charlie Zero Gamma X-ray X-ray Beta.”
There’s a pause, then a masculine voice comes through the speaker, “Voice recognition confirmed. Damien Carson. Password confirmed. Welcome back sir.” Damien hands the device back to the guard who walks back into the security office. We wait patiently for the gates to open and then close behind us, one by one, three in all. I have never been here and I’m already intrigued at the heavy security around the lot.
Chapter Three
We pull up to the farthest building out of the five that are inside the gated area and Damien stops the car. Each building is a different size and none of them have windows in front. All of them have garages as well as doors except for the one we stop at. It’s all white as far as I can tell from the lighting and seems to be the smallest of all the buildings. “Wait here for a second Rayne,” he tells me as he walks up to the door, knocks and then says a few words to someone behind the door. Less than a minute later, he’s waving me to come to him.
I get out of the car, surprised by the chill in the air as well as the silence. There are other cars around, but very few, and I wonder if there’s more parking on the othe
r side of the building. My steps are quick as a wave of fear quickly washes over me, then, goes away. What is that about? When I reach Damien, he puts his hand on the middle of my back, opens the door, and guides me inside.
It may be the smallest of the buildings, but the inside is huge, and astonishingly clean. As our footsteps echo against the gray tiled floor, I take in the expensive looking equipment and picture this place as if it were during the day. I visualize people with white coats standing over the machines and monitors, nodding their heads and collecting their data. But, there is none of that now. Now, there is simply enormous emptiness from the very top where the railings and walkways hang and steps, but after that, only darkness. The smell inside here is that of ammonia as if something dangerous had spilled and needed gallons upon gallons of cleaner to wipe it up. It becomes more overpowering to the point that my head begins to feel dizzy.
I’m grateful when we reach an elevator. Damien removes his hand from my back and then presses up on some kind of scanning device. Next, he swipes his badge and the doors open. When we step on the elevator, I realize that there are only two buttons. It’s strange for there to only be two floors to go to, seeing that this place is incredibly huge. It must be a special clearance one.
Even after the card swipe and the hand scan, Damien presses another button and the same voice as before speaks, startling me, “Prepare for eye scan.” Damien steps up to the panel with the buttons on it and remains still, unblinking. “Confirmed. Damien Carson.” After another second, the voice says, “There is another occupant with you, identity has not been confirmed. Shall I override, Mr. Carson?”
I look at Damien and ask, “So, what am I supposed to do?” At this point, I’m afraid I’m going to have to go through an x-ray body scan.
“State your full name and then say confirm identity,” he tells me calmly.
I sigh. All of this is becoming a little too unnecessary for my liking. What is there to hide down here? I’ll play along for a little while longer though. “Rayne Danielle Whitmore. Confirm identity.” I tried to sound as authoritative as D had sounded.
“Rayne Danielle Whitmore. Identity confirmed. Prepare for eye scan.” Surprised, I hesitantly stand where Damien had stood and hold my eyes open, not knowing if there’ll be a lazer pointed in my eye that could blind me if I wasn’t who they thought I was.
Thankfully, the voice says, “Analysis complete. Rayne Danielle Whitmore, daughter of Jason Anthony Whitmore. Identity has been confirmed. It is good to finally see you Ms. Whitmore.”
I take a deep breath as the elevator finally begins to move with a slight jolt and a humming sound.
“So,” I say, extremely curious. “What does it do if you are not who you say you are?”
“Well, it accesses your perceived threat level, and from there it either gasses you to sleep while it calls security, or it,” he pauses, but I already know the answer. “Can kill you.”
I don’t ask any more questions. I think I’m starting to understand why Damien had wanted my daddy to talk to me about these things first. Whatever is down here clearly needs to be protected and now all I can think about is how many people may have died trying to get to the lower level.
When the doors open, I finally see my dad standing in front of the doors waiting patiently for our arrival. At first glance, other than the fact that he has on dress slacks with just a wife beater, nothing seems out of place. Then, as I glance again before his chiseled arms embrace me, I can tell something is off. Even though this had been his idea to bring me down here, he obviously is having second thoughts about it. Hmmm.
“Hey, sunshine,” he says warmly. I had always thought it was amusing that he called me that, since he was the one who named me Rayne.
“Hey, daddy,” I reply with a smile.
He and Damien exchange brief looks and I can almost hear the argument they surely had before now.
I try to break the awkward silence. “The technology is beasty dad. I need to put one of your security locks on my phone in case someone tries to steal all the naughty pics on it.”
That does the trick as Damien bites back a laugh and my dad attempts to completely ignore what was just said by shaking his head and pretending to clean out his ears with his finger tips. Dad then starts to walk away, his demeanor all business. Damien motions for me to follow. I walk closely behind them ogling all the cases of weapon after weapon that are hanging on each side of the wall as we go down a corridor. Interesting. I’d never seen so many different types of knives, swords, spears, bows, or even guns. My dad has to have every single hand wielded weapon known to man down here. This would have been a ninja’s wet dream.
“As you know, we contract with the government to make weapons of all sorts, but that’s not all. Sometimes I sell weapons to collectors or even overseas to small rebel groups if the price is right. We have the most brilliant minds at work here and those minds are just as valuable as the weapons we make. They, above all must be protected Rayne,” my dad tells me, his mood becoming much more sour by the way his body language shifts as we get closer to a room.
He stops just short of the door, reaches for the handle then stops, before turning to me frowning. “There are consequences for those who threaten the safety of my family, my friends, and my valued scientists.” As he says the last part, he looks me in the eyes, a cold ruthlessness behind them that I’ve never seen before from him.
“Show me,” I tell him, needing to understand what it is that has changed my father in this way.
Damien steps in front of us and opens the door. Agonizing moans hit my ears, coming from across the room. I step inside. A white man is strapped to a chair, arms behind him, head bowed, and shirt ripped open in the front to reveal deep bruises and blood. Without seeing his face I know that it is in the same condition. On the floor is a bloody towel lying next to my father’s suit jacket. He cleaned himself up before I got here. My father had done this to this man. Why did he need me to see this?
I try not to turn and run away as I study the room to see brass knuckles, spread on a table, a hammer, and other items that I care not to name. My stomach starts to hurt and my knees begin to tremble. As if he can feel my fear, the man lifts his swollen face slowly, looks up at me, and smiles through bloodied gums and missing teeth. One eye is completely swollen shut and the other eye reveals something dark and sinister inside it. It is almost as if he’s enjoying the pain that he’s been put through in a twisted sort of way. How can a man who has been beaten like this still look as if he’s the one in charge? At this point, I am more afraid of him than all the weapons in the room. Instinctually, I take a step back and the battered man looks amused by my reaction.
I can hold my gaze no longer and stand closer to Damien as I tuck my hair behind my ears nervously. My heart is pounding and goose bumps form on my flesh. “What’s wrong with that man?” I ask quietly.
Completely understanding my meaning, my father answers loudly, “This man is a sociopath. He kidnapped two of my best researchers and tortured them to get our secrets. All I’m doing is returning the favor.”
The man laughs. It sounds like tires screeching.
“Where are they now?” I ask, afraid of the answer.
“Dead,” the man hisses, sounding nothing like a human being. “I mailed them back when I was done.”
I use my hand to cover the sound of disbelief. I imagine my father opening a package to find broken body parts, decomposed, staring back at him. How could this be business? How could my daddy, no, how could anyone play this game?
Damien puts a hand around my waist to balance me, and I cannot meet his eyes. He says nothing and so, my father continues.
“A perspective associate had been fishing around our sites for some time now. Ever since we began to expand certain types of weaponry that has proven very successful in some of our field tests, we’d begun to start peaking the interest of this client. So, he started to send his errand boy here over to my offices trying to broker a deal to se
ll some of my secrets. However, that man deals in the black market. We refused and he didn’t like the answer.” My daddy picks up random things off the table inspecting each one until he finds that he likes the tire iron the best. “We make weapons to kill things and we make security technology to protect secrets, but I would never sell those things to people like you. In the hands of your kind, the world would fall.”
His kind? Before I can ask what that means, there’s a blitz of speed and then a crack that fills the room. The man howls in misery as his leg twists in ways that it should never go. I have seen enough. My stomach has seen enough and I know what the outcome of this game is. Dad said he would return the favor and I know that only death awaits this man.
How do I feel about that? To know that my father who’s always taught me to be moral and upstanding is a murderer. I don’t know. I had looked at that man for only a couple minutes, but I can tell that inside of him is something twisted and evil. Still, does that mean that what my father is doing is justice? How many times has my father given out this type of justice? Am I expected to do the same?
My dad had once told me that reputation was as much of a weapon as anything else and now I understand what he meant. He has appearances to uphold just as my mom had told me many times before. I wonder if she knows, if she truly knows the man that she had fallen in love with so many years ago. How does my dad transform from this to the kind and gentle man that he is at home? If this is the price that must be paid to keep our family and assets safe, I’m not so sure that I want it anymore.
My head hurts, and all I want to do now is be with Selene. I need to be around something good and warm. I need something right, to hold on to. Selene is right, she is kind, and I need her. This is something I will never let Jasmine see. I promise myself. Never will she have to see the violence and torture. Inside those doors, more muffled screams are being drawn out. I slide down the wall crying silently for the loss of the scientists and for the loss of my ignorance.
The Unmaking (The Rayne Whitmore Series Book 1) Page 2