Riley: Sorrow and Revelation
I sit in the large propeller plane carrying Daemon’s latest supplies—including me—across the ocean.
Victor came with a dozen men and took me the morning after Jack left. I have no idea where we’re going. Talia Amontillado sits across from me. We’re on the single plane going to Daemon this week. Daemon’s careful about how many shipments go to him; he doesn’t want to chance giving away his location. The man has all the world, but he keeps himself locked away to assure his power. To deny yourself all the world when it’s at your fingertips; to live for the sake of power alone—that’s insanity, isn’t it?
I did the right thing, I tell myself over and over again. Jack’s a monster. He was manipulating me. He couldn’t have possibly wanted me—not really. It was all lies, and I let myself believe them. Some prince doesn’t just walk out of the shadows and sweep a girl like me off her feet. The last few weeks were a game he set up to amuse himself. A trial he set up to prepare me to amuse Daemon. Now he’s going to go off and have a girl like Talia—or any other one he wants.
“You look utterly miserable. I don’t blame you—you should be if you’re going to meet my brother,” Talia says. She’s drinking a martini her valet made for her. I’m pretty sure it’s still mid-morning.
“It’s not him, it’s Jack,” I blurt out.
“Ah, Jack.” Talia always seems bored behind her dark, perfect eyes, but she brightens just a fraction at an interesting topic of conversation. “You should be grateful that you got so much enjoyment out of him. He fucked me like an absolute beast last week—you saw, I suppose, at the bar.”
My stomach turns, but I don’t really care if Talia gets one up on me or not. I would’ve a few weeks ago, but I’ve learned things about girls and pretty jewels since then; anyone can have them.
“He lied to me the whole time, and I actually started to believe him.”
I can let Talia revel in it. I don’t give a damn about her either way now. Being able to walk through fancy clubs is no special thing—all it takes is a nice dress and a little practice with your posture. As she chatters on in the background, I think of Jack’s perfect body, and the hints of a smile, and his wit, and his confidence, and passion, and ambition, and all the broken things inside of him that he somehow manages to bear.
Was that all a lie?
“Oh, this is no fun.” The change in Talia’s tone catches my attention. “Ugh. I’m just affirming all your stupid delusions, aren’t I?”
I stare at her dumbly.
"Jack didn't fuck me, you idiot. I told him I was going to tell Daemon to have you killed because I was bored, and he spent a little while humoring me so I wouldn't do it. I tried to take him back to my room, but by the time we were halfway there he looked like he was going throw up."
I don’t believe her. “Why tell me that?”
She shrugs and gulps down the rest of her drink. “I’ve never had a man lose interest in me before. I suppose I’m grateful to you for a new experience.”
He never set me straight. Why the hell wouldn’t he just tell me? He was trying to force me away. He thought I’d be better off without him. That idiot.
“Ah, see, there we are,” Talia says. “Now you’re infinitely more miserable. I’m glad I told you the truth.”
Could it have really all been true? I can’t actually make myself believe it. But maybe… I could’ve had everything—I could’ve had Jack. He was right there, and all I had to do was believe that he could love me. I could’ve run away with him on that boat.
And now I’ve lost him. I realize with an almost unbearable regret that it’s my own fault. I didn’t believe in him. I didn’t believe in myself.
“He…he killed all those people, he killed a man…Byron Kent…”
Talia throws her head back and lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Ugh, must I solve all your problems? You’re lucky you caught me in good, drunken mood, darling. Byron Kent is a lascivious fraud. Was. He tried to fuck me every time we crossed paths. He was a worm who was always trying to make his way up higher in high society. He was bought through and through—I know; he was on my payroll for a while, until someone else offered him more, I suppose. New Dawn was just his latest buyer.”
“Why—”
“ —should you believe me?” she shrugs. “Your choice. I don’t have any reason to lie to you at the moment, though. I do wish I could tell you Jack shot a decent man—the suffering in those big eyes of yours would be delicious. But I don’t really feel like lying just now. If Jack hadn’t plugged the bastard, Byron would’ve killed you or taken you straight back to his employers—and from what I’ve heard of New Dawn, I can assure you: You wouldn’t have enjoyed that experience very much. Not very much at all.”
“There’s not a single good man in New York,” I gripe, but joy is flooding through me despite my best efforts to keep it at bay. Jack saved me. He protected me. He told me the truth!
"No. That Ariadne Jones is a good egg, though. Ugh. Dreadful woman. She raided one of my apartments last week before I got the D.A. down there and scared her off. A girl can't have a few pieces of priceless, stolen art in one of her penthouses without being harassed in this…"
I ignore Talia again and stare out the window. Something starts to rise from the horizon; a giant structure standing in the ocean on four enormous pillars. I realize it’s an oil drilling platform or at least it was.
“We’re going there?” I ask Talia.
“Home sweet home for my dear brother.”
“Isn’t he worried about James Bond finding it and blowing it up?”
“Yes, Daemon’s methods are sometimes rather extreme—even cinematic, I would agree.”
“Is he trying to be a literal fucking movie villain? He actually has an ocean base on an oil rig?”
Talia shrugs. “Just don’t mock it to his face, dear. Don’t mock anything. He’d kill you for that.”
The plane begins to descend for a water landing. It’s too late. I’ve lost everything. I’ve lost Jack.