The Black Rose

I woke to the sound of muffled whining. My eyes opened to the world but I didn’t move. As reality sunk in, I moaned, lifting my cricked neck from the overly stuffed couch pillow. This was not the morning I had planned to have.

I begrudgingly slid the gun from the coffee table and sauntered, in my underwear, up the steps. The noises grew ever louder as I reached the bedroom door. Sliding the barn door open, Nadine still sat, gagged, in the chair I had tied her to last night.

“Enjoying time-out, are we?” I jeered, her eyes wide with hatred and bemusement at my minimally-clothed figure.

I wanted to let her stew a bit loner, so I meandered to the dresser, clasping a black laced bra around my perky breasts, sliding on my black silk kimono as if it was my armor. I was ready.

Nadine glowered at me her eyes lightly red from lack of sleep. I ripped the duct tape from her mouth.

“You’re lucky I am still tied to this chair,” she hissed.

“Lucky? I retorted. If I’m not mistaken, I spent the better part of the night cleaning up your mess.” I moved closer to her face, our mouths and eyes inches apart.

“Besides, I’m willing to bet Shadow doesn’t even know you’re here,” my eyes widened slightly with my revelation.

She remained quiet and indignant. “Untie me,” she muttered.

“Are you going to play nice?” I asked with a sadistic grin, waving the gun in her direction before placing it on the bed.

“What do you think?” she seethed.

I took the knife from the night stand twirling it dexterously around my fingers. “So vulnerable,” I whispered standing in front of her in my two-piece black-laced underwear and long flowing kimono. My legs lowered, wrapping around Nadine like a straight-jacket. I held the knife against her neck pressing the blade lightly against her smooth skin.

“Let’s play a little game. I’ll let you go if you tell me the truth.” Nadine’s black eyes bore into mine. She didn’t respond.

“You like me and want me all to yourself?” I pressed, but Nadine remained tight-lipped, not willing to relent, even with the drop of blood oozing down her neck from the knife’s edge.

“You’re no fun,” I moaned in exasperation. I took the knife and reached around the chair my neck dangerously close to her lips. I cut the tape from her arms. Her hands released and she pushed me off her.

“We’re done,” she growled.

“You stole the words from my mouth,” I interrupted. “No more unannounced visits, no more sex, no more senseless killings that I have to clean up.” I added, cutting the tape from her ankles.

“Wonderful,” Nadine responded sinisterly. We glared at one another as if waiting for one of us to cave, but that moment never came.

Nadine’s raw wrists grabbed her neck where a speck of blood oozed from a tiny cut. “But just remember,” she muttered, “I trained you. I am higher up the food chain. I could make your life a living hell.”

My trembling hands clenched as I swallowed back the retaliation. Nadine’s eyes flicked to my trembling fists.

“I’ll call a cleaner,” she uttered, ignoring my hands. “Would your plaything have anything of yours in her place?”

I shrugged, “I barely knew her.”

Nadine nodded, holding the phone to her ear. “Get dressed, we won’t be able to stay here while they scour the apartment,” she called while exiting the room.

I rolled my eyes. I thought I was the sociopath.

I quickly dressed and by the time I made my way down, there was a bouquet of brilliant black roses on the kitchen counter. I looked to Nadine.

“I brought them with me, but then I hid them,” she muttered. I could see the guilt in her face. She loathed feeling vulnerable more than me.

“Well, I’m glad I have redeemed myself,” rolling my eyes. The flowers were magnificent but my eyes found the bottle of pills. I was dangerously low.

“The cleaner will be here within the hour. They will clean your apartment and hers. Why don’t you and I grab a bite to eat and some coffee?” she asked, her voice more chipper.

I nodded, grabbing my purse and the vial. Nadine and I made our way to the elevator and lobby. Passing the front desk my breath hitched. I wondered if Chanel’s bosses were worried about her already. Was she supposed to work this shift?

Nodding hello and goodbye to the other front desk person and security guard, we stepped in silent sync along the sidewalk to Ridicule. I wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries or small talk. I wanted my apartment clean, Nadine gone, to kill Chin, stalk Mia, and to build my portfolio on Shadow. Those were my priorities.

As we reached Ridicule, I couldn’t help but feel lighter. This was one swanky, hip joint. The outside of the building was painted solid matte black. There were rows of handmade pallet garden boxes and a tiny farm stand. Ridicule was written in graffiti like white signage across the front.

Inside, the flooring was early vintage geometric white and black tiles, with emerald green velvet sofas, ottomans, and comfortable looking bean bag chairs.

“Why don’t you sit over there?” Nadine instructed to the far table in the back corner. “I will order us something.”

I sat at the secluded refurbished pallet table. I pictured myself meeting Damien here. Even this swanky coffee joint wasn’t cool enough to erode the loathing I felt for him and now Nadine.

Speaking of the devil, Nadine waltzed over and took a seat next to me. “I ordered you an espresso and a breakfast burrito.”

I feigned a smile, “Thanks.”

“Are you going to keep acting like a petulant child? So, what, your lover of one night is gone. It needed to be dealt with sooner or later,” she sighed.

I huffed. It wasn’t even the fact that she killed Chanel, I think my admiration and attraction to her had run its course. Now, everything she did or said seemed to disgust me.

“I’m over it,” I smiled wider. I needed for Nadine to believe all was well.

“Excellent. Now can you take off those preposterous shades and look at me?”

I groaned, relenting, “Their Gucci.” I sassed.

“Tell me how L.A. is? How’s Chin and Mia?” she asked casually as if they were a romantic couple with whom I was great friends with.

“I have plans to hang out with Chin this coming weekend, and as for Mia, well, she is a work in progress. She might be more of a recluse than me,” I snarked.

“That’s hard to accomplish,” Nadine smirked.

“I did set something up…” I began but stopped abruptly as a gentleman came bearing gifts. He placed the espressos and burritos on the coffee table before us.

“You need to be delicate with that one, they want her desperately,” Nadine trailed, not wanting to disclose too much.

“Do you even know who they are?” I blurted, dousing hot sauce on my burrito a little too aggressively. I had been poked, prodded, transformed, beaten, tortured, become a mass murderer, and I still didn’t have a clue who “they,” were.

Nadine grew silent. I could tell she wanted to give me some sort of clue, but her filter prevented it.

“You know I can’t disclose that information. You get us Mia, and maybe there will be a promotion in your future,” she dangled.

I rolled my eyes but kept my comment to myself. “Am I still the only one?” My eyes honed in on her subtle movements, like a built-in polygraph.

“As far as I know, I haven’t been given anyone else to train,” Nadine shrugged. She was telling the truth, at least the truth she knew.

“Why are you suddenly so curious?” she asked turning the tables.

“I mean you practically built a superhuman and you expect me not to wonder or question?”

Nadine didn’t comment.

“Your summaries are much improved,” she changed the subject.

“Thanks,” I mumbled. “It’s all the hours of practice. I heard it makes perfect.” I mocked.

Nadine rolled her eyes now. “Well, just make sure you’re careful. They only agreed to your little charade with the roses because it benefits them, but if you slip up, if they find out who you are, it would be bad.”

“I know,” I sighed. “I’m careful. Besides, I didn’t leave a rose with the last one.”

“Good. Just don’t get too cocky,” Nadine reprimanded like the motherly sexy hen she was.

The rest of the conversation flowed lightly as I discussed the L.A. socialites, Damien (in which I left out the extraneous details of knives being held to throats), and other mundane platitudes.

Ding.

Nadine glanced down at her phone. “The apartment is clean.” She grinned.

Without further ado, we rose and walked out of the coffee shop towards the fortress.

As we walked, I could feel the waning separation. Nadine and I had finally reached different paths, paths that would no longer segue into each other’s.

“I won’t go back up with you,” Nadine muttered, breaking the thickening silence.

“Take care of yourself, Alex. It might be a while before I can check-in. Be polite to Damien,” she eyed me reproachfully.

I let out a slender grin. She knew me too well.

“If you need anything, call me,” she stated, grabbing my wrist. I could sense her seriousness.

“I will,” I muttered, slightly taken aback.

“Good. I know I have weaknesses that tend to get the better of me, but I do care for you, Alex,” she confessed in her sultry Australian accent.

“If I can ever return the favor for your training, you let me know,” I glanced at her actually meaning the words as well. As much as I wanted to kill this woman, I respected her.

We gave each other a half hug, and then I stepped out onto the familiar guarded curb. Walking past the bleary-eyed guard, I didn’t even look to see if he was attractive. For once in my life, sex was not on my mind.

Taking the elevator to the top floor, the silence was deafening, except a faint almost indistinguishable buzz. I moved hastily around the room, stopping every few feet to listen. As I drew closer to the vase, I held it above my head. A microphone. I took the microphone off the vase and sat it on the counter. I stared at it for minutes, mulling over my options. That bitch bugged my apartment.

I then swept the rest of the loft, finding three more cameras, one in my bathroom which I found disconcerting, and one more microphone. I placed the microphones next to the stereo system conspicuously. I couldn’t remove the cameras since it would alert whoever was watching, so I just made a mental note to utilize my acting skills at some point, and discretion was of utmost importance.

Bugs found, I moved to my computer and clicked on the desktop file that allowed remote access the security cameras in Zhang’s home and filtered through the many angles. Nope. Nope. Nope. Then finally one of him bare-assed in bed with some woman. What a life. If I hadn’t been told to kill his father and more than likely him, I would envy Zhang Chin. Hell, I’d probably want to be friends. From the looks of the girls he nabs, he would be the perfect wingman.

I drummed the desktop. So far, my targets were dull, but I knew I just needed to be patient.

I turned to the next task at hand. I dubbed this Operation “Three Musketeers”. While my top-secret computer lab was still in New York, I made sure I had a copy of all the files, all the information I had, in a safe place, a place I could access anywhere. It was risky to look at or open this information on this computer, due to the not-so-secret cameras and microphones and surely hacked and tapped computer, but I wasn’t bestowed a super brain for nothing.

I fired up my firewall that would disable any outside network or cellular device from being a peeping tom. I figured I could get away with this for maybe ten minutes at a time. Set the clock. I whipped out the iPad I had underneath the desk and got to work, typing, clicking, moving from screen to screen faster than the normal mind could process. I was looking for Mo and Cassy’s whereabouts and the perfect way to contact them without alerting them to my being alive.

After two minutes of digging, I found they both had tickets to Comicon in, imagine that, L.A., which was but a few weeks away. That was my ticket. I could go, dress up as some character in disguise, and corral them. How would they react? I knew that I could trust Mo and Cassy with my life. We had a code as the “Three Musketeers,” that we would never rat out one another, and we would always have each other’s backs, even if we were caught and tortured by the DOD, NSA, or any other cyber security agency. I wondered if that applied to mass murder and secret assassins?

I purchased a ticket quickly, using an off the record card I had purchased with a fake name, Jennifer Rosenbloom.

I knew this was risky, but I needed help. I needed a solid way out, a solid blackmail plan and scheme. The idea of not knowing who, “they,” were, ate at me like a tapeworm that kept multiplying exponentially within my brain. I didn’t like not knowing who my boss or bully was. I needed faces, I needed information, especially if they continued to grow more powerful.

Click.

I jumped back to Mia’s feed, placing the iPad back under the desk in its holster.

Nope. Nope. Nope. Bingo. Mia was in her kitchen. Lucky for me she had her phone propped up for all the world to see (well just me). I clicked on the app that hijacked her phone’s speaker.

“No Bob, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying this new Cas9 technology could be a game-changer. I just feel like there aren’t enough hours in the day to get this done.”

Mia rambled to someone named Bob, what a name. I fixated on Mia while simultaneously searching for more information on this mysterious Bob.

Her hair was tied in a tight bun, her black glasses on the lower bridge of her nose. She wore a black tank top and black pants pulled to her belly button. She appeared to be heating up some sort of dinner.

“Yes, I’m eating,” she retorted. “An actual meal.”

“I can’t wait for Friday. It seems like ages since I have seen you all and gone out for a proper meal.”

My eyes widened.

“Are we still meeting at eight?” she asked the estranged figure Bob on the other end.

“Where is this dinner?” I mumbled aloud.

“No, I was going to catch an Uber from the lab,” she answered.

“Okay well say hi to Amy for me and tell her I can’t wait to see her Friday.”

“Sounds good, Bob. See you Friday!” she beamed aloud, her finger moving towards her phone to hit “end”.

Hmmm. I thought. I didn’t know what the restaurant was, but she would surely bring it up in text? I hadn’t done a proper tail in months. Looks like I would be tailing Dr. Semmens to her illustrious night out with friends. I needed an outfit.