AHRI
We stayed outside The Bayne sharing our third cigarette. Jack sat on the large cement planter while I leaned on it in between his wide legs, my elbows resting on his thighs. Jack’s neck was stretched back as he stared upwards, so my head was resting on his chest. We’d been frozen in this position for about ten minutes.
Jack must’ve thought about his dream with that broad smile spread across his face while I thought about the massive dark gray sixty-two-floor hotel composed of mostly windows. The Bayne Hotel was not just a hotel but the seventh highest skyscraper in Chicago that tripled as a plaza and workspace. It was divided into three sections: hotel rooms, office space, and shops/restaurant where people spent ridiculous amounts of money. We were at the hotel entrance where you could skip the shops and go straight up to the rooms.
I stared at the very top of the building where the Bayne family lived. I didn’t care much about them. They were worth billions, and that was all I needed to know. But then you had the people who loved the Bayne family as much as the people in England loved the royal family, aka, Felicia. To be fair, Felicia mostly kept track of her dream man, Seth Bayne. He was now married to a Hawaiian/Brazilian woman he’d met in California a few years back when he worked at The Cali Bayne Hotel. Now they have two kids, twins, a boy and girl.
The Bayne family were the right kind of rich, giving money away to people in need, starting up companies, the kind of money you feel good about. It was hard not to be envious. It was only human nature to want to live at the top. Literally.
I sighed and looked at the empty street. Three thirty in the morning and no one was around. Only one person had entered The Bayne in the past ten minutes. The doorman was still eyeing us down (mostly Jack) from a very far. I’m sure we were an odd pair.
Jack, dressed in black and tattooed from neck to hands with a cigarette between his perfect lips. And me, dressed in a maroon velvet dress, shoeless, and hair as straight as a pin and the color of a Twinkie. I’m sure my resting bitch face and Jack’s mischievous smile didn’t help us. We naturally looked like we were ready to stir up some trouble, but we weren’t.
Just because you’ve sinned does not make you a sinner.
Jack took a deep inhale, blew out the smoke and rubbed his sore neck. He looked down at me, my head still on his chest as he kissed me.
“What are you thinking, Ahrianna?” Jacked asked, thumbing my pouty bottom lip as I flashed him a smile.
“There aren’t many people to pickpocket that keycard from.” I giggled.
Jack kissed my dimple and chomped down his teeth, letting out a growl. “Do you know you’re to die and kill for?”
I shook my head, my cheeks red as fire.
“Why’d you bring me here, Jack?” I asked again.
Jack exhaled deeply. “After Link got adopted I ran away from home at fifteen.”
“You never told me that.” I turned around, plucked the cigarette out of his lips and brought it to mine.
Jack nodded. “Well, after I ran away, I lived on my own, and I got lucky. I got, eh, a one-time job then left Chicago.”
“A one-time job?” I tilted my head to the side.
“I lived in shelters, the streets, or abandoned houses or warehouses. I lived anywhere I could for free and when I needed money I came here. The Chicago Bayne Hotel.”
Jack sighed heavily and pointed at the end of the street. “I stood right there, behind the thick shrubs, blending with the night, dressed in black. I always stalked my pray before I struck. Before I took what would to be mine. Money. There was a man dressed in a black Hugo Boss suit, another man in a blue pinstriped Prada suit, and finally, my victim. A man in a white dress shirt and blue slacks, his money hanging out of his back pocket. I remember thinking, ‘What a perfect tool,’ but before I took a step. I was stopped.”
“A grip as tight as a snake suffocating his prey was on my shoulder. This man whipped my body around so hard it knocked the air out of me. I stared at this old man who was just as tall as me. He dressed in a navy-blue suit—Armani—and his skin was as black as night. He eyed me down, let out a heavy, ‘Mmmmm,’ then flashed a pearly white smile that clashed with his skin. The man was well groomed and clean shaven, not a hair on his face or head, and built like a man ready to fight. He said nothing to me. He merely chuckled, looked at his Rolex, and jerked his head to say that I should follow him. So, I did.”
“I followed him to the back of the hotel where the workers at The Bayne knew better than to say who came and went. I followed him into a personal elevator, and up we went to the 59th floor, suite number one. I was blown away. I never knew the expression, ‘mind-blown’ until I stepped foot into that private elevator, and again when I stepped into that penthouse. I had never laid eyes on anything so…” Jack inhaled sharply and chuckled. “Extraordinary.
“The man stood close to me, shoulder to shoulder, smiling at his place when he finally spoke in a thick French accent, ‘What would you do for a place like this? A life like this?’ I didn’t answer. I was too dumbfounded by his excessive lifestyle to do anything but shrug and grunt like a caveman. The man walked in front of me, snapped his fingers for my attention and looked me right in the eyes with his stone face and said, ‘Anything. You would do anything and everything for a life like mine.’”
“The man in black walked toward his office. I followed. I was paralyzed, inside a room full of endless books. The man went to his desk, opened a drawer and then came back towards me holding something wrapped in a napkin. He stood in front of me and said, ‘I’ve been watching you for weeks. Hiding behind the scrubs, pickpocketing people as they left, and each time a success.’ The man could have stopped me, but he didn’t. He let me work my petty crimes as he watched, observed, and took notes. And for some reason he needed me.”
“He unwrapped the napkin and revealed an orange pill bottle with a single yellow and red pill inside. He said, ‘You need the money. I have a job.’ I swallowed, looking at the pill until he gave me the bottle. He pulled out ten grand, all in hundreds. Crisp, clean, and still wrapped in a band labeled ‘$10,000.’ I can still remember the smell of freshly printed money and how it felt like silk at my fingertips.”
My speechless face stole Jack’s attention. He grabbed the cigarette out of my lips before it burned me and chain-smoked a fresh cigarette. Taking a massive drag, Jack blew out the smoke and let a gray cloud hover over my head.
“I took the money, Ahrianna. I took the job.” He looked at the cigarette, avoiding my eyes. “With no shame, no guilt, and no bad-gut feeling. I took the damn money and the job. I could’ve taken the ten grand and ran. But…I didn’t.”
Jack exhaled, this time looking at me. “Instead, I went downstairs to a single hotel room, used the card the man gave me and mixed the pill I was given with the rest in a bottle inside the bathroom. I went upstairs, got the other half of my money and before I left the man told me one last thing. ‘You were never here. You never saw me. And we never talked. Now, if you’re smart, you’ll leave Chicago and find the Hollow Kingdom on the East Coast. Get more jobs like this and earn some real money. You want a place like this? Then do anything and everything to get it.’”
Jack jumped off the planter and looked up at the hotel. He took in a final, deep drag before he dropped the cigarette to the concrete and stomped on it. He held the smoke in his lungs until he couldn’t hold it any longer and let it spill out of lips.
“I never knew their names. Not the man who paid me and not the man I can only assume I killed. Did I care? The less I know, the better.” Jack scoffed. “There are only three people that know of my crime. The black panther dressed in navy, Emilio-fucking-Bayne, and now…you, Ahrianna.”
Jack dropped his head to meet my eyes. His touch was gentle as he moved a lock of my hair behind my ears. I gripped the straps of my heels tight and swallowed my non-existing words. I didn't know what to say.
“You realize I just told you I killed someone when I was fifteen, right?” Jack spoke gently, caressing my cheek. His touch warm and soft.
I nodded.
“Are you afraid?” Jack asked. There was a touch of fear behind his question. Fear that I would say yes.
Never. If I were, then I would have to fear myself.
“No.”
Jack let a bright smile invade his face before he kissed me. “Good, you should never be afraid of me. I’ll never hurt you, Ahrianna.”
Jack’s perfect lips pressed on my forehead as he pulled me towards him. His heart racing like I’d never heard or felt it. Jack was scared. Frightened to confess what he had done, but it didn’t bother me. Not a single bit. If I had been offered the same opportunity, I would’ve taken it.
“Why’d you tell me this, Jack?” I mumbled into his chest.
“Because I want to be honest with you. I can’t keep lying, not to you. And there might be things you won’t like about me, Ahrianna.”
“Like what, Jack?”
Jack hugged me tighter. “The man I killed when I was fifteen was just the first of many.”
I swallowed, grabbing the back of his leather jacket tightly. “You’re-you’re a hit man?” I whispered.
“Yea, that was one of my many titles.” Jack spoke softly into the top of my hair.
I gulped and looked up at the building behind him. If what he said was true at the library, then that means…
“Why did you bring me here, Jack?” I asked again, my voice tiny.
Jack moved away from me as if he was in slow motion. Taking his wallet out, the chain rattled in the wind. My breaths were cut in half when I saw the slick black metal card. Hollowed out in the middle were the words THE BAYNE and underneath it was engraved MR. BARON 59-1.
“Tomorrow is today, and we need to talk. I’ll tell you everything, and I’ll show you everything.”
“Is…what…how?” My lungs and brain were no longer on the same page.
Jack handed me the keycard I felt unworthy of touching. A metal card with full access to MR. BARON’s penthouse…
“It was a gift,” Jack said, putting his wallet back in his pocket.
“A gift?” I snapped my head at Jack. “For?”
“A gift for spending seven years of my life in prison.”
“Prison?”
He nodded.
“For what?” My stomach turned, the black butterflies fighting amongst each other.
“How about we go upstairs and talk in private.” Jack gave me a shy smile, pulling me toward the doorman as I held the key to a million-dollar suite.
We walked past the doorman who greeted Jack (no wonder he kept looking at us) then passed the front desk girl. I didn’t remember much. I remember being outside, then inside a white elevator with mirrors, then finally, trapped inside an old black and white themed penthouse like we were in a silent film. The only color was the tree plant next to the door.
What finally brought me back to reality (more like a dream), was Jack when he pinched me. “It’s not a dream. This is real.”
Jack locked the doors behind me, and I swallowed. I wasn't scared by any means, but my whole body and brain were flooded with questions. And just like a silent movie I couldn’t think of any full-length sentences. Just short phrases.
“A gift?”
“Yes,” Jack said and went to the left side of his modern penthouse—his fucking penthouse!—as I followed like a mindless zombie.
The walls, black and white, the floor, dark like the abyss, and the ceilings, tall as the sky and decorated with black wooden beams. The whole outside of the walls were floor-to-ceiling windows, showing off Chicago’s skyline.
We passed his gourmet kitchen. Black stainless steel, black cabinet, and white marble countertops. The fridge (if you could call it that) was massive. One door made of steel, the other with a window to see what was inside. The stove was so large you could cook for a family of ten in one sitting, and the white marble island countertop in the middle was something an actual God had in his home. Across the kitchen was the dining room. There was only a large dark table which matched the hardwood floor and a breathtaking chandelier.
Jack’s place was simple, minimal, and rather empty. But…he’d been with me that past few weeks.
Why?
Why was he at Birch Park if he had all of this?
Why did he rent out the apartment?
Holy shit, he wasn’t the apartment guy!
Jack stopped in front of a pair of black double doors, opened them, and revealed his master bedroom. Everything was like the dream he’d told me about. Every-fucking-thing. The king-size bed, the sheer black drapes, the silk black covers, and the black walls. I took a step inside the dark room, my eyes wide.
“Jack?” My voice didn't sound like my own.
I mindlessly moved toward the only light source in the room, the windows overlooking Chicago and Lake Michigan. Pressing my forehead into the window, I saw where I had once stood, fifty-nine floors below. It was all so gorgeous, but surreal. I didn’t get it. How? I looked down, and nausea hit my body. Taking a step back, my whole body shook. I hugged my sides tightly as Jack came toward me and silently led me to the end of the bed where I took a seat. I didn’t know how I should feel. Part of me was still outside of my body, watching this scene like I was in a movie.
A movie about a girl from the hood working to the bone who met a secret punk millionaire hitman.
“Why? Why were you at Wazowski’s…why did…when you have all…why?” I stammered.
“You know the night we had sex the first time?” Jack asked.
What the fucking hell does that have to do with anything! I wanted to shout.
“Yea?”
“That was the day I got out of prison. I’d only been released that morning, and I’d driven for six hours in that car you spat on to find you.” Jack’s leg shook with his nerves, making the only sound in the room the metallic clinks of his wallet chain.
I looked at him, trying to let his words enter my brain. “Find me? What do you mean ‘find me?’”
Jack let out a heavy sigh as he got comfortable. He kicked off his boots, took off his jacket and turned his body towards me. One leg was crossed on the bed, the other foot still on the floor. He took out his wallet and fished out an envelope folded in four sections. He unfolded it slowly, looking at the front of the white letter than at me.
“I was told to find you and give you this, Ahrianna.” Jack handed me the letter face down and when I turned it over to and saw TINKS written on it my heart lost its strength. It was caught in a fire, a blizzard, and an earthquake, all while also being submerged under water. The black butterflies in my stomach stormed out of me, leaving me alone.
This is why I always felt like something was wrong. Something was off. The good kind of wrong.
“This is—”
“Luke Parker Lore’s handwriting.” Jack spoke softly as he cut me off.
I shot a glare at Jack and stood up, my hands shook. The letter shook. Luke’s fucking letter shook.
“Fidget—I mean Luke was my cellmate for three years.”
“Fid-Fidget?” I rubbed my hair, stepping away from Jack. “Three years?”
You look like Fidget…You don’t talk the same way. You don’t act the same way. I heard Jack’s words echoing in my head.
“Fidget is the nickname I gave Luke. He found a rock in the courtyard on the first day he came, and he brought it with him everywhere we could. He played with it. Fidgeted with it so much he earned a nickname for it.”
“You-you knew my brother?” I felt tears welling up in my eyes I didn’t know whether to be pissed off or happy.
Luke’s handwriting looked almost foreign, but also like a sacred text. Without control, my eyes shot up to Jack. I wasn't afraid of him, but betrayed. Jack had known exactly who I fucking was this entire time? He knew exactly who Luke was this whole time? But he asked about Luke like he didn’t even know him. Like he hadn’t spent the last three fucking years with him.
I took a few steps back, and my legs gave out, tumbling me to the floor.
“Ahrianna—”
I held my hand up to stop Jack from coming to me.
“Shut up!” I snapped, my eyes burning with tears that hadn’t fallen yet. I forced myself to stand up. “This…you…why did you stay? Why did you get the apartment? Why the hell did you lie about being the apartment guy? About fucking everything, Jack!”
I threw one of my shoes across the room, but Jack didn’t say a word. He let me be furious. He let me have my therapy session. I tossed my other heel, knocking over a lamp that fell, shattering the lightbulb across the floor. I paced around the black abyss, leaving scorch marks behind me. I let out a muffled scream and stomped on the ground, giving Jack a death stare.
How could he have lied to me?
“Ahrianna, please let me explain—”
“Shut up!” I shouted.
This time I let my anger get the best of me. I stormed toward Jack with every intention of hurting him.
Smack!
The room echoed with a sharp slap. Jack stayed still, looking in the direction I’d forced his face towards. I stood in front of him, tears burning down my cheek, body trembling with anxiety, and clenched fist to the side as I crushed Luke’s letter.
“Hit me again,” Jack begged quietly. “Hit me again, Ahrianna. Let it all out. Let me fucking have it!” his voice rose as he shot up to his feet. A lock of black raven hair fell in his face. “Let me have it if that means you can forgive me!”
“You fucking lied to me, Jack!” I beat on his chest like a drum, taking out all my anger as I cried. “You fucking piece of shit! You selfish, lying bastard! You jackass of all men!” I yelled.
I yelled more hurtful names and pounded on his chest with heavier blows until I hit Jack’s body as hard as I could and he fell back on the bed. He made no sound while I let my rage take advantage of me. I knew even with all my rage I couldn’t hurt him. His cheek turned a little red, but that was all. This time when my tears fell it was because of the red mark. I hated myself for hitting Jack. For hurting him. But he had fucking lied to me about everything!
Was that really an excuse to hit him?
Jack flexed his jaw on the most expressionless face he’d ever pulled, his eyes were drenched in complete sadness.
“Better?” he asked.
No.
“Do you hate me?”
Never.
But I said nothing.
I moved away from him, sniffing and rubbing my burning eyes as I flattened out the letter on my thigh. It shook in my hands as I outlined the word TINKS with my eyes. I was so focused on my nickname that I had not noticed the letter had been opened.
“You-you read the letter?”
“Hundreds of times,” Jack confessed.
There was a part of me that I wanted to collapse on the floor and cry and the other that wanted to break everything in Jack’s stupid fucking secret penthouse.
All my emotions turned into a black hole, sucking my body inside.
Jack seemed unreal, fake, but here he was. In front of me. Sitting on his bed, eyebrows dropped, elbows on his knees while one of his legs shook like an earthquake. He didn’t look any different. He didn’t act any different. He was still Jack…I think.
I walked backward away from Jack until I hit the corner where the window and the wall met. I slid down the cold surface sending goosebumps over my back as I held my breath and hugged my legs. I tried to get my emotions under control, but my heart raced again when I heard Jack move.
“Don’t you dare fucking move,” I growled, sniffing my runny nose.
Jack exhaled deeply and sat back down on the bed, listening to my command. He knew I needed my space more than ever. I pulled my legs in tighter, buried my face on my knees and closed my eyes.
Nothing filled my head.
I gripped the letter tightly in my hand and looked to the right. This was the highest level I had ever seen Chicago or Lake Michigan. While Lake Michigan looked like a black hole, Chicago was alive with all its bright lights and colors.
I began to feel nauseous again. Unsure if it was because of the height, but convinced it was because of Jack. Either way, I had to look away. Burying my face against my knees, my heartbeat pounded throughout my trembling, weak body.
One, two, three, four, five…