“I said I’m calling an ambulance. You’re bleeding everywhere.”
“It’s just a gash. Call for a car and let’s get home.”
“You think any ride-share dude will let us into his car with all this blood?”
“Can you call a friend? It’s not safe for me to contact anyone I know.”
“A friend?” he asked. “You think I have friends? Come on, I don’t hang with people. Look, I won’t argue while you lay here and bleed to death. I’m calling 911.”
“Dothan, please stop. You know this has something to do with Conscentiam. We can’t call the authorities.”
He frowned in resignation and returned to apply pressure to the crimson blood soaking through the thin fabric. “I’ll call Bekkii.”
With a feeble laugh, January shook her head. “She’d rather see me dead.”
“All that matters is she has a car. I’m calling her.”
He dialed and Bekkii answered on the first ring. “What do you want?”
Surprised by the calmness of her voice, he said, “I know this is going to seem weird, but I need you to pick me and January up from Kyoto Kitchen.”
“Fuck you,” she said.
“Don’t hang up! I swear to you, I wouldn’t have called if this wasn’t an emergency. January’s been stabbed.”
“What?”
“This guy just jumped out of the shadows with a knife and slashed her.”
“Then call an ambulance and leave me alone.”
“I can’t,” he said, “and there’s no way to tell you why. Just come get us. I know it’s a lot to ask, but you’re a decent person. Please don’t let me down. I’ve been a shit, and you have every reason to hate me, it’s just I have no one else to call. I’m begging you for help.”
She was silent.
“Please, Beks,” he said.
“All right,” she whispered. “Kyoto Kitchens over by Broadway?”
“Yeah. Hurry.”
The call dropped and Dothan returned to January. “It’ll be okay. She knows nothing about Conscentiam, so there shouldn’t be any problems from that side.”
“For her sake, I hope not.”
Within minutes, Bekkii pulled alongside the couple. She took out several towels and handed them to Dothan. “I brought these in case you needed them. They should help with the bleeding while we’re on our way to the hospital.”
“No hospitals!” January flinched as Dothan replaced the bloody sleeve with a fluffy pink hand towel.
“Listen,” said Bekkii with obvious irritation, “it’s bad enough you’re going to bleed all over my car, but you need a doctor. So, you can either go to the hospital or you can hemorrhage in the middle of a parking lot all night for as much as I care.”
The two women glared at each other in the dim, hazy light.
“Come on, stop it,” said Dothan, “Bekkii, please. Let’s just head to my apartment.”
She turned to face him with an incredulous expression. “Why your apartment? So you can fuck a woman with a four-inch gash on her arm? You’re disgusting.”
He scowled, fighting to stay calm. “I won’t argue because I probably deserved that. I know you’re furious with me, and you can rip me apart another time. But, right now we need to take January to my place and clean up her arm.” He grasped Bekkii’s hand, stroking her skin with his thumb. “Please?”
In disgust, she pulled her hand away, brushing it against her jeans as Dothan lifted January into the car. Bekkii’s eyes widened as she fixed her gaze upon the sparkling white sapphire ring on January’s finger.
He slid into the backseat, and January rested her head on his shoulder. Her face appeared as pale as marble in the dim light. “Are you okay? Are you in pain?”
She grimaced and closed her eyes. “No,” she whispered in a weak voice. “I’m right where I want to be.”
He kissed her forehead, surprised at the chill of her brow.
Bekkii slammed her driver’s door and drove onto the highway.
“Any ideas who did this?” Bekkii asked.
“I don’t know,” said Dothan. “A dude in black just jumped us.”
“A dude? Maybe it’s just another one of your rejects who didn’t think it was cool for you to get engaged and then ask them for favors.”
“I swear,” he said, “I never set out to hurt you.”
Her eyes, smoldering with fury, reflected in the rearview mirror. “Yeah, ’cause that’ll get you out of the shit, won’t it? Did you notice how nothing is ever your fault? You act as if I should’ve already known the rules of this sick game you play.”
“Fine. Eat me alive. I apologized. What else do you want?”
Sniffing and wiping away tears with the back of her hand, Bekkii continued to glance into the mirror with reddened eyes. “Your apologies mean nothing, they’re all lies. I just hope someday all the bullshit you’ve given out gets thrown right back in your face.”
The tense minutes passed until they pulled into the driveway of the apartment complex. Bekkii stopped the car and stared through the windshield as Dothan wrapped January’s good arm around his shoulder and shut the car door.
“I owe you big time.”
“Goodbye, Dothan.” She raised her window and pulled out of the parking lot.
He walked with January at a gentle pace toward the metal staircase. As he helped January to the apartment, he continued to watch the small red tail lights of Bekkii’s car until they disappeared. Her departure left a strange, inexplicable void, and it occurred to him she had been his one, and only, friend.
He lowered January on to the sofa, shocked by the huge red stain of blood soaking the small pink towel.
“January, I don’t know how to take care of this gash. You’ll bleed to death if we don’t take you to the hospital.”
“It looks worse than it is,” she said. “I didn’t lose that much blood.”
“The fuck you didn’t,” said Dothan, sprinting to the bathroom and grabbing a damp bath towel from the shower rail.
January flinched in pain as he replaced the blood-drenched cloth around her arm. “Check that the thumb drive is still there. I’m a lot more worried about the software then this stupid cut.”
He turned toward the desk. “I can see it’s still in the USB slot. I’ll put it back behind the fridge in a second.”
January leaned her head against the back of the sofa, waving at the laptop. “Go ahead, then.”
“Now? I can do that anytime. We have to clean this mess on your arm.”
“Please, just put it away. I’ll feel much better when I know that code is safe.”
Dothan groaned. “Fine. Promise you’ll let me do something about your arm afterwards.”
January crossed her heart with blood-stained fingers.
He taped and secured the thumb drive back behind the refrigerator and pushed the ancient appliance against the wall. “Happy now?”
She nodded as he sat next to her. As he tightened the wet towel around her forearm, she grimaced.
“I’ll get you something for the pain,” he said. “Aspirin or ibuprofen. Which do you want?”
“Either. Do you have any bandages?” she asked.
“Damn, yeah, bandages. I should have thought about that. There’s a first aid kit under the sink. I’ll be right back.”
He returned with a molded plastic box with a red cross and took out various wraps and antiseptic. “This thing is like a mobile hospital,” he said. “I’ve had it for years and never used the thing. My foster mother gave it to me when I left for college. Good thing I kept it.”
After an internet search on his phone for wound treatments, he removed the towel. His stomach clenched as he looked at the red, bloody line across her skin. It was unclear from the medical sites if the cut was deep enough to need stitches, but he made a
quick study of how to take care of the gash.
With her arm cleaned and disinfected, he placed gauze pads across the wound and secured it with an elastic wrap.
January admired his work. “Beautiful job. I think you missed your calling. You’d make quite a sexy doctor.”
Dothan handed her two pills and a glass of water. “Not a chance. I’d have spent most of my first day of med school puking my guts out. I could get a lab coat to play doctor with you, if you’re into that.”
January smiled as she swallowed the pain killers.
“How are you feeling?” he asked. “Your color is better.”
“I’m fine, please stop worrying.”
As he settled next to her, January’s expression changed to concern. “So, what’s this about a foster mother? You’ve never mentioned you were in care.”
He nodded. “Yeah, for about six years. After Gina died, they stuck me in the system, but I was one of the lucky ones. I got great foster parents.”
January took his hand. “How old were you when Gina passed?”
“Eleven. It was just her and me. We were broke and squatting where we could. When she got…sick, I was the one taking care of her. After she stopped getting out of bed, she refused to let me get any help, so I did the best I could, but it wasn’t enough.”
“What an awful thing to do to a child. You said she wanted to die. What happened to her?”
He lowered his eyes to the floor. “She overdosed,” he said in a near-whisper. “I’m not sure on what.”
“Oh, god.”
“Yeah, but it didn’t matter after I got sent to my foster parents. Fred and Sylvia were fantastic to me, and the years I stayed with them were awesome. We lost contact after I left for college. I heard they moved out of state.”
Taking a few shallow breaths, Dothan tapped his foot and fidgeted with his fingers.
Not now. I don’t want to think about it right now.
He tried to push the memories aside, but they flooded his consciousness, filling him with resentment and rage.
I only started a little fire in that wastebasket. How was I supposed to know the entire house would go up in flames? Besides, who cares? Fred insured the house. There was no reason for the court to throw me into that institution and stick me with fucking Dr. Terry.
“Dothan?” asked January.
He took a deep breath. “Can we not talk about me anymore?
“Sure. I’m sorry. That was too personal.”
“No, it’s not that. It’s—do you want anything?”
“Nothing.” She kissed him. “Except making plans for Wednesday night. I know what we need to do now.”
“Okay, let’s hear it.”
January sat straight, taking his hands. “I’ll give you all the codes to the building locks so you can get into the playpen. We’ll make up a name for you and I’ll get you on the guest list. All you have to do is wander around the party, maybe have a few drinks and flirt a bit with the girls. Figure a way to keep your phone stable so you can film what’s going on, but still have it hidden. When we get home, we can make a copy and secure it in the cloud. After that, we grab our suitcases and take off for Spokane. Once we’re settled in a hotel, we can send Joseph our demands along with a video clip.”
“Will I have to film any perverts fucking you?”
“What?” January shoved him away. “No! I won’t be a part of that. That was a shitty thing to say.”
“Sorry,” he said, “but I can’t stand the thought of these guys slobbering over you while I watch. Why don’t we just make a deal with that asshole and leave? We can go wherever we want and forget Conscentiam. I’ve already told you I can create code to move us into the big league.”
“Like it or not, we can’t escape this web without destroying the spider. Joseph would take our deal, all right, but once he had the rights to that software, he’d destroy us.”
“Why risk a double murder when he’ll have software that could make Conscentiam millions?”
“Because I know all of his secrets.”
“So what? He knows you have nothing to gain by spilling anything.” Dothan shook his head. “I’m sorry, I know I said I’d have no objections, but I think our first plan is way better. The worst thing he could do is screw up your career, but we’ll build our own company and you can run it.”
“I told you. Sibella and I didn’t just work for that man, we belonged to him.”
“Belonged? To Harrington?” Dothan laughed. “That’s goddamn medieval. No one can be owned by another person anymore, haven’t you heard? So he blackmailed you into staying because of Sibella’s activities. What difference does that make? She’s dead. You don’t have to worry what that asshole says about you now.”
“His blackmail and threats were the tip of the iceberg.” January tried to smile. “If only I had known when Sibella and I agreed to work for Conscentiam, we were selling our souls to the devil and running straight into the fire.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“It’s a simple case of stupidity and greed. I wanted the lifestyle, luxuries and money Joseph offered. I knew if we didn’t do as we were told, there might be consequences, but I never understood the true price we would pay. When she was…” January hesitated. “When I found out they had blackballed her, I thought it meant a censure, or even termination. I didn’t know it meant a death sentence.”
“Wait a second,” said Dothan, pulling back from her. “You told me blackballing doesn’t exist. Now you’re saying that’s what happened to Sibella?”
January nodded. “They targeted both her and Lucas. He was still on the run from Harrington’s enforcers when you found him. That was the real reason I wanted to find him. I hoped he could help me bring down Joseph and the whole of Acquisitions by proving they murdered dozens of people through the years.”
“Whoa. Enough shit. Cards on the table. Without anymore double-talk, what the hell is blackballing?”
Her brows knit together and she frowned. “I was told it used to be a corporate code word for thinning the herd. A lot of Seattle tech businesses use a similar model. When the money guys want to shaft the investors, managers cut a percentage of subordinates through so-called voluntary termination. Veiled threats combined with a large bonus kept the disgruntled employees quiet. It continued for years at Conscentiam, then a few of those blackballed vanished or died under weird circumstances. It was all hushed up in the media until a tabloid published an exposé. Conscentiam sued the paper, and with their money and influence, they won. The paper retracted the story, but after that, the company allowed no one to even mention it.”
She rubbed her forehead with trembling hands. “After that, the board gave the Acquisitions department carte blanche to do as they wished. Joseph took that power to the extreme, creating a vile pit of sex and drugs to get his division to the top. I was a dumb hick when I arrived at Conscentiam and blinded by the shiny stuff. I swear, though, it wasn’t until Sibella’s death, that I realized I had been bought and paid for by Joseph and if I didn’t continue doing as he expected, I might end on a riverbank like her.”
“This is bullshit,” he said. “You have everything you need to make Harrington a prime suspect in Sibella’s murder and even take on Conscentiam. The feds could have taken them apart on your testimony alone and kept you safe in protective custody. Why bother to involve me?”
“I told you, I have no actual evidence against Joseph. The company would have denied everything, and no one in Conscentiam could back up what I said. How long before they hunted me, just like Gilmore? I was sure there was no hope until you contacted me. You were like an angel dropped into my lap. I believed you wanted to help me. While I was certain Joseph had Sibella killed, I needed your help in proving it, but you had your own agenda. You kept me in the dark from the very first moment we met.”
“You hid just as much from me.”
January glared at him. “I did nothing of the kind. You had me chasing shadows. The key to everything was in that software, but you never said a word until today. Had you been truthful from the beginning, we might have already found that table and Sibella’s killer.”
“I couldn’t tell you,” he said, “I—”
She lifted her hand and shook her head. “I don’t care anymore. I love you so much that nothing else matters. Not Conscentiam, Gilmore, or even Sib. These days we’ve had together let me remember what it felt like to be happy. I had almost forgotten how dangerous Joseph was, though, until he called me into that meeting, and…” She leaned forward, covering her face with her hands. “My god, I didn’t want to tell you this.”
“Tell me what?” Dothan pulled her hands away. “Tell me what?”
“Joseph knows about you. He’s had us followed since the day of the break-in at my condo. Today he threatened to blackball me and destroy you, unless I took Sibella’s place at the playpen. Now you understand why I had no choice.”
She sobbed and lifted her wet eyes to him. “It makes no difference what he wants to do to me. Whatever I have to do to protect you, I will. I love you more than my life.”
Dothan pressed a kiss on her forehead. “Tell me once more what you want me to do,” he whispered, “and I’ll make sure it’s done. Nothing will ever hurt you again, not even Conscentiam.”
Chapter Seventeen
How much longer is that quack going to take?
Dothan picked up his paper cup of machine-brewed coffee and grimaced. It had been terrible enough when it was scalding hot two hours ago, but now cold, it turned his stomach.
He tossed the remaining drink into the trash and paced across the colorful industrial carpet, oblivious to gurneys, lab coats and sensible white shoes marching by him. Plaintive cries filled the busy emergency room as the ill and injured stumbled in and out of the waiting area. He took no notice of their presence.
His mind raced with the way January awoke in the night, writhing in pain. Blood had seeped from the bandages onto the sheets and he almost dragged her to the hospital.
The Optogram Page 19