Penumbra (The Midnight Society #2) (5 page)

“We’re good, thank you. But perhaps in a minute, you can help me look for the box set of ‘Anne of Green Gables?’” she asked. “It’s a childhood favorite of mine.”

“Of course. You come see me when you’re ready,” he said, turning his attention back to a magazine that he was flipping through earlier.

“You’re having no luck getting anything on him at all?” I asked.

Leah nodded. “He was charged once before, long ago, but the police officer who arrested him was too focused on roughing him up to read him his Miranda rights. The entire case got tossed out. He’s been extremely careful ever since. I can only imagine how many children will get exploited while I continue to try and build a case.”

“The officer made one detrimental flaw,” I stated.

“Of course. The Miranda rights are the focal point of any arrest, giving every suspected criminal his humanly rights.”

“I’m not talking about that,” I said as I rose to my feet and walked towards the door of the bookstore. I flipped the sign over from ‘Open’ to ‘Closed’.

“What are you doing?” Leah asked.

My hands balled into fists
. “The officer should have beaten this guy to the point where even thinking about a child would hurt.”

I walked over to the counter and fixed
my gaze on the fucker.

“So you like children?” I asked. The man looked at me and smiled.

“Why yes, of course,” he said as he took off his reading glasses and laid them on the table. “That’s why I own this bookstore. I love seeing the look of excitement in their eyes as they explore wondrous new pieces of literature.”

I dr
illed him in his left eye with my fist. “What do you see now? Stars? Good, cause you’re about to see a whole galaxy filled with them.”

The man covered his eye and howled in pain.

“Do you film naked children?” I asked him, calmly.

The man looked at me with his one good eye, the look of fear unmistakable. I wondered how many times the children he exploited looked at him the same way. I suddenly thought of Julia, poor innocent Julia, and everything went red.

“Why are you doing this?” he cried.

“Because you’re a degenerate.” I reached over the counter, grabbed him by the collar, and lifted him up and over. I tossed him into a book display featuring various fairy tale princesses, who smiled innocently at us.

He lay on the floor, amongst scattered books and cardboard cut outs, sniveling pathetically, while still clutching his left eye. I walked over and looked at him with bitterness.

In the background I heard Leah screaming at me, but I tuned her out. All that mattered was inflicting as much pain as I could on this sick fuck.

“I’m going to ask you again and I want the truth,” I said. “Do you touch little children?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the man protested.

I delivered a hard kick to his gut and took satisfaction at the sound of his ribs snapping.

“Do you touch little children?” I asked again.

This time I got the truth out of him.

“I’m sorry,” the bookstore owner shouted, his face a mess with tears and saliva. “I can’t control it. I need help. Please, that’s all I need, just some help.”

“Filming disgusting acts and selling them for money does not sound like a plea for help,” I said. “Did you have dirty thoughts about those children that were just in the store?”

“Y-y-yes.”

I punched him in the groin.

“Shadow, no more,” Leah protested.

“I want you to listen to me carefully. Starting today, I will be watching you,” I said to the fucker. “Every step you take, every morsel of food you place in your mouth, every single person you lay your filthy eyes on, I will know about. If I even suspect that you’re having a dirty thought, I’m going to come out of hiding and do this to you.”

I smashed him in the groin again
.

“Stop, please!” he howled in pain.

“Do we have a deal?”

“I d-d-don’t even know what the deal is.” he cried.

“My fist in your nuts every time you’re considering doing something sick,” I replied. “You fuck up, I hurt you. Is that clear?”

He nodded. I let him stagger to his feet while he shielded his groin with his hands. “No more” he begged.

I connected the end of my fist to his jaw, knocking him out cold.

I turned to Leah.

“There, I bought you some time.” I said. “I doubt he’s going to look at another child again anytime soon. Meanwhile take your sweet time and build some evidence against him.”

Leah looked at me and frowned. “My case died the second you assaulted him,” she said. “All the work invested, ruined because of your inability to control your emotions.”

“You don’t have to play your games with me,” I said.

“What do you mean?” Leah folded her arms up against her chest.

“Perhaps you still have some of the Midnight Society in you after all,” I smirked.

“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You had no case to begin with. This sick freak was free to do as he pleased and there wasn’t a damned thing you could do about it,” I stated. “You wanted to see this guy suffer for what he’s done, but there was no way you were going to get your hands dirty. That’s why you had me come here instead. You knew I would beat the shit right out of him. I was your weapon of choice, one that couldn’t be traced back to you.”

Leah’s silence confirmed it.

“So I guess we’re done here?” I asked. “I have a plane to catch.”

“Despite what you think, I didn’t want
this
to happen,” she said, gesturing towards the unconscious pedophile on the ground.

“Manipulator,” I replied.

“What?”

“That’s the one word I have to summarize you.”

I headed for the exit, leaving her and the broken heap of pedophile on the ground. I stopped short of the door and turned to Leah once more. “You know, I can’t help but wonder if you even want me to bring Calisto back alive. Or are you banking on the fact that I’ll extract my own sense of justice on her, avenging Lucien for you? Your hands will remain clean.”

There was another long moment of pause. I shrugged and pushed open the door.

Just before I made my exit, Leah called out to me.

“Leave the girl alone,” she said. Was she referring to Aria? “She deserves better than you.”

#

Chapter Six

Aria

“You sorry sack of horse shit,” the raven-haired woman said as she shot Lincoln a look that could freeze the sun. “How dare you even step foot in here.”

She was wearing a leather tube top, her arms, shoulders, and neck a canvas of unique and beautiful tattoos.

“I thought we were supposed to stay incognito,” I whispered to Lincoln.

“We are,” he replied.

“Well this chick sure knows who you are.”

Lincoln smiled at the tattooed beauty and flashed her one of his boyish smiles. However, through gritted teeth, I heard him say to me, “This
chick
knows me as Dorian Black. She’s a gifted artist, but her talents in deduction are non-existent.”

“And who is this bitch?” the tattooed
girl asked, scouring me with sour eyes. “Let me guess, ginger is your flavor of the month Dorian?”

Ginger? I guess it was going to take some time getting used to my new appearance.

I looked at my reflection in one of the large rectangular mirrors inside the tattoo parlor, and frowned. Gone were my long flowing blonde locks, replaced with fiery-red hair that hung down to my shoulders. It was the shortest my hair had been since high school.

My complexion was lighter as well; milk white from the foundation that Lincoln applied to my face. If he’d applied one more layer, I could have been mistaken for a ghost—a sad, red-headed ghost.

When I saw Shadow again, maybe I could change my appearance back into the girl that he fell in love with?

Fuck. I was doing it again.

I was thinking of all the ways I could get that jack ass to love me once more. He was programmed to fall in love with me once, but could it be done a second time? Was it even worth the time and tears?

I sighed, knowing full well the answer. A broken heart made even the most rational of people do stupid things.

“You’re mistaken, Juno. This is my
friend,
Lucy,” Lincoln said.  “You should know by now that I only have eyes for you.”

“You never returned any of my texts or emails,” Juno said. “I always had a bad feeling about you. I should learn to trust my instincts. Dating rappers is always bad news.”

I shot Lincoln a look that said, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

A rapper? Lincoln?

“It’s not a crime to be the king of rhyme, yo,” Lincoln whispered to me, lightheartedly.

I laughed, which infuriated Juno even more.

“You music artists are all dicks and no balls,” Juno seethed.

“I’ve been a busy guy, Juno,” Lincoln said. “I have my debut album to release, remember?”

“Horse shit,” Juno said. “I tried looking up your name on the internet. I couldn’t find a Dorian Black.”

“I’m a work in progress,” Lincoln replied.

“You’re a pretty big dick, that’s what you are.”

Lincoln cracked a sly smile.

“Figuratively. Literally, you’re a one-track minded douchebag.”

“I’m sure,” he said confidently. “Don’t think I forgot the way you called me Pappi as I –”

I decided to interject. “How about we keep the topic of conversation rated “D” as in decent.”

Juno pursed her lips and gave me a sideways glace that made me want to tattoo her forehead with the sole of my shoe. I took a deep breath and counted to five.

That type of action I’d reserve for Calisto—someone who truly deserved a flogging.

Juno turned her attention back to Lincoln. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kick you out of my shop right now.”

“I don’t have any,” Lincoln replied. “But I know you’re not going to.”

“What makes you so sure?” Juno asked.

“First, you opened the door for us. Second, seeing as how I know your tattoo parlor houses about three pounds of crystal meth awaiting distribution on a weekly basis, I have knowledge and knowledge is power, my dear.”

“Are you blackmailing me?”

“Of course,” Lincoln replied.

Juno shot Lincoln a hateful glance, before finally admitting defeat and raising her hands in the air, exasperated.

“What do you want from me, Dorian?” she asked. “You fucked me, tore out my heart and then left me hanging for two god damned years. And just when I was starting to find a rhythm to my life again, you waltz back in here with another fuck friend.”

“
Friend
only,” Lincoln corrected her.

“Whatever,” Juno said. “I know the kind of man you are. There’s not one girl on this planet that you’ve met that you won’t push your cock into.” She turned to me. “It’s only a matter of time before this barbarian sweet talks you into bed with his rhymes, satisfies himself with your goodies, and then moves on to his next conquest.”

“We’re friends,” I reinforced Lincoln’s statement.

Juno ignored me and asked Lincoln again, “What are you doing here?”

“I need your help changing me.”

“Call
back the women you sleep with. That’s a start.”

“No, I mean literally change my appearance. I want your gorgeous artwork on my bod
y, those two week temporary tattoos, just long enough to fool the producers. Also I’d like a few piercings, and maybe a new haircut. I need a new image to launch my rapping career.”

Juno gave him a curious look. “I can give you the first two,” she said. “But I’m not a hair stylist. You can get Raggedy Anne over here to do that for you.” Juno turned to me and scowled.

I had it with this bitch.

“Listen you pixie-faced ink whore…” I began, but Lincoln was quick to cut me off.

“Let’s all be civilized here,” he said. “Juno, I have five thousand dollars in cash, ready to spend on a couple of piercings and some temporary tattoos. Do you want this money?”

Juno seemed enchanted by the idea of cash. “Yes.”

“Great. I have three conditions then. The first being, no more shots at my dear friend,” Lincoln said. “Second, you cannot tell another living soul that I was here. Should you do so, and I find out, I’ll expose your connection with the unsavory fellows distributing the crystal meth, landing you in hot water with both their criminal organization and the cops.”

Juno scrunched up her face. “Fine, Dorian. What’s the final condition?”

“No tattoos drawn on me out of spite. No faces of teenage pop stars, no butterflies, no tattoos on my lower back area, nothing demeaning. Agreed? I’m entrusting you with my body here, but I can’t help but feel you’re dying to make me pay for the tats with more than just cash.”

Juno rolled her eyes. “Fuck, you’re really taking all the enjoyment out of this for me.”

“Five thousand dollars can provide you with plenty of enjoyment.”

I pictured Lincoln with a butterfly tattoo on his ankle, and couldn’t help but chuckle
.

“Give me a style then, what do you want?”

“New Orleans Mafia,” Lincoln said. “I’m going for a southern gangster persona. I need to look like I’ve been part of that organization since the dawn of plastic beads at Mardi Gras.”

Juno shrugged. “
I have some temporaries readily available,” she said, “Anything else?”

“We can get to that later,” he grinned.

“I can throw in a
permanent
tattoo on your dick,” she jeered, “One that says ‘beware of dog’.”

“I know another tattoo artist who I also have incriminating evidence against. I could gladly blackmail them to get this done for me. Hell I wouldn’t even have to pay him.”

“So why come to me then?” Juno asked.

“There’s nothing more tragic than a long absence from a pretty face like yours.”

Juno’s cheeks turned to the color of apples as she seemingly struggled to suppress a smile.

Lincoln was a smooth operator, I gave him that.

“Alright Dorian,” she said. “Step into my shop.”

Lincoln smiled. “My body is your canvas.”

“I’m well familiar with it,” she said as she walked to the entrance of the tattoo parlor and flipped over the sign from “OPEN” to “CLOSED,” while locking the door.

“You can wait on the couch over there Lucy,” she said. “Try not to touch anything.”

The thought of planting my tired ass on a couch was wonderful. I had spent the entire night staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep while my heart tried to mend itself. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Shadow, turning his back to me and then Justin burning alive.

My insomnia was fueled by my wounded heart.

Juno’s tattered couch was littered with old newspapers and magazines, which made it as inviting as a public toilet. However, the second I sat down, I let out a sigh of relief. I was exhausted to the point where I could have fallen asleep on a bed of nails.

Peering through heavy eyelids, I watched as Lincoln and Juno disappeared into the next room.

I soon felt myself nodding off.

I wished for a dreamless sleep, because lately, all my dreams were replaced with nightmares.

#

“No,” Justin said as I walked up and pressed my hands against the glass prison that held him.

I was in an asylum. Surrounding me were dozens of inmates, all encased in glass cells, displayed like animals in a zoo.

Justin was tied to a funeral pyre; his feet buried
beneath a mound of fresh kindling.

“Justin, I’m sorry,” I sobbed.

“No,” he repeated.

The tears streaming down my face were endless.

“I should have listened to you Justin. You were right all along.”

“No.”

I shook my head. “I want your forgiveness so badly, but I don’t deserve it, do I?”

“No.”

“I miss you. I wish I could hit rewind and pause it on that day you bought me a hamburger while we were doing our counterpoint assignment. As hard as life was back then, at least it all made sense.”

“No,” he replied again.

I wiped the tears from my eyes with the back of my hand. “Please, just say something else to me, anything else.”

He looked at me, his eyes bloodshot from crying, and then he said, “Goodbye.”

I watched in horror as slowly the peachy color of his flesh turned dark grey, like a piece of meat cooking over a flame. His entire body slowly transformed into ash. It wasn’t until I unleashed a scream, that Justin broke apart into smoky dust.

#

I woke up on the couch, my heart racing, and my throat dry. How long had I been out for?

Suddenly from inside the room of the tattoo parlor, I heard the muffled screams of someone.

Was Lincoln in danger? Fuck, I should have known. I knew the hussy couldn’t be trusted the second I laid eyes on her.

I grabbed the closest weapon I could find—a mop—and crept slowly towards the room. I had no idea what I was going to do if she was assaulting Lincoln. Maybe I’d scrub the bitchiness out of Juno’s face?

The door was slightly ajar and I peered in.

Juno wasn’t hurting Lincoln.

Quite the opposite actually—they were having sex on the tattoo table.

Lincoln’s sinewy arms, now decorated with breathtakingly intricate tattoos, were bulging as he propped the upper half of his body up while he
thrust in and out of Juno. She clung onto his decorated arms, running her hands up and down the chorded muscle, while she begged for more.

“You’re fucking tight,” he said between breaths. The sight of Lincoln’s lower region—the muscular v-thing that made girls like me go stupid—and the sound of it smacking into Juno’s naked body sparked a fire deep within me.

I felt dirty, spying on their private encounter, but at the same time I was enthralled by it.

The intensity of Lincoln’s eyes as he watched Juno being ravaged by his cock was
hypnotizing.

“Oh fuck, fuck,” Juno moaned with each powerful thrust. “Don’t fucking stop.”

“I won’t until I have completely ruined you,” Lincoln hissed. He lifted himself off the table and turned Juno around so she was facing me now.

I took one step back, concealing myself deeper within the darkness of the hallway. Juno’s eyes were closed, enjoying every moment of Lin
coln’s dominance.

I was
wet. I had the urge to slip two fingers within me and satisfy my longing desire, while hiding in the darkness, watching these two fuck each other with reckless abandon. 

Lincoln’s hands f
ound her breasts while he slammed into her from behind. I watched as his fingers pulled lightly on her pierced nipples, sending her into a fit of ecstasy. I closed my eyes and envisioned hands touching me in the same way, though I couldn’t tell whose hands they were.

My hand trembled as I loosened the top button of my jeans.