LOLA

 

As soon as the elevator doors rip open, I race out and down the hallway as fast as I can. And though there's no air conditioning in the entire building right now, it's like I can feel a gentle breeze wrapping around my body, but maybe that’s because I'm running so fast. I'm sweating and my chest is heaving, but I'm also running out of time and I know that I can't stop for anything.

My heart beats against my chest and then threatens to beat right out of it. It's beating so fast that I'm almost terrified I could have a heart attack at any given moment.

But I keep going. Keep racing towards the inevitable.

I don't know why I didn't think about it before but there's another option to take all of these men down. Perhaps the reason why it never crossed my mind was because I was too filled with bloodlust. I was too busy focusing on not only destroying their lives but ending them. As retribution, perhaps, for all of their sins.

And the total sins of all of the men standing on the rooftop right now as Richard takes the stage is probably too high to count. It's an astronomical number. Up there are some of the worst men in the world, and the worst of all the men I’ve ever known. Some of them are even worse than my father.

And that's saying something because my father was a terrible man. Not once did he ever care about who he had to step on or who he had to destroy, nor did he ever think twice about ending someone's life if it suited his purpose. If something got him farther ahead in life, he had no problem doing whatever the hell he had to do to make sure he got what he wanted.

And he always got what he wanted until the moment someone put a bullet into his head, finally ending his life. And someday I'll figure out who that person was and I'll seek out vengeance upon them. It wasn't their place to take away my right to kill my own father. I know how terrible that sounds and I don’t care.

At the very end of the hall of the seventh floor there is an office that used to belong to my father, though it’s probably long abandoned like most of the rooms in the building. And they’ll stay abandoned against Richard’s wishes.

Inside that office are secrets capable of bringing down everyone my father ever associated himself with. There are two glass doors with my father's name printed on the glass. I reach for the door and try to pull it open but it's locked. That's not going to stop me though. Nothing is going to stop me right now.

I spin on my feet and look at my surroundings. And out of the corner of my eye, I notice Zach looking at me with confusion written all over his face. I can read him now, almost like an open book.

I don't pay him much attention though. Not right now because there are more important things to deal with. I locate a fire extinguisher hidden behind a pane of glass and rush to it. Using my elbow and nothing more, I shatter the glass and grab the extinguisher before rushing back to my father’s office and launching the heavy object through the glass door.

Before the glass can even shatter to the ground, I'm climbing through the opening I've made with the fire extinguisher. And behind me, I hear Zach’s feet crunching against the broken glass.

I take a quick glance around the room and though it looks mostly the same as it always had before, it's been cleaned out. It's a sterile environment with nothing more than a desk and cabinets remaining, with the only evidence my father ever owned the place being the words written on the broken glass door.

Gone are the pictures of my father, my mother, and myself. There were never any pictures in his office of my sister because for all intents and purpose, she didn’t exist. She hid her life in the darkness once we reached a certain age. I used to believe it was because she wanted nothing to do with this life, but as it turns out, she was simply waiting for her chance to strike.

It’s beyond fitting that in the wake of my father's death—his fake death, anyways—that he was basically erased from this own life. And in the intervening months since he first died—again I'm talking about his fake death—there has been a power struggle to try and claim what was rightfully his.

The only legacy he really left behind is the infighting of his people as they try to claim his money and his power. And that's why they're all here today. That's why Richard is here, to assemble all of the associates into one room so he can rule with an iron fist. And in the twisted delusions of his own mind, after the night is over, he will no doubt be the new man in charge.

Not if I have anything to say about it.

“Are you going to tell me what we're doing here?" Zach questions from behind me, still clearly confused. It's not like I blame him for being confused because I haven't even come close to telling him why we’re here. The only clue he has is that I said that there's another way to take these people down. Other than that, he's running on nothing. "Lola!"

I crane my head over my shoulder to look at him, glare right at him, but I don't answer his question before turning back around and standing behind my father's desk. I reach underneath the desk and find what I'm looking for. There's a small, tiny trigger in the corner crevice.

I click it.

And then, I race back around the desk and pass Zach.

“What the hell are you looking for?" he questions me with a growing sense of agitation in his voice.

Still though, I don't answer his question, not because I don't want to but because my mind is focused elsewhere. There's another switch in this room and I'm trying to remember where it is. I stop in place and spin around in slow circles as memories begin to flood my imagination.

I've spent so much of my life in this office building and in this very room. I should know it like the back of my hand but with all of my father's possessions gone, it's like I'm looking at a blank slate. I've hit a roadblock and I can't find what I'm looking for and the longer it takes, the more frustrated I get. I drag one hand through my hair, calming my slick locks as I try to think harder.

And that's when it all clicks into place. I race to the large windows that hang just behind the desk. And I drop down to my knees and pop the plates off the silver electrical outlet. From behind me, I can see and feel Zach's shadow hovering over me before he, too, drops to his knees and looks straight ahead at the open electrical circuit. And I can hear him gasp just slightly when I go to reach my finger inside.

And there is the switch.

I click that one too.

From behind me, I can hear moving parts from within the walls. I rush to the far right wall of the office and caress the wall with my hand until a partition slides out of the way.

And I pray under my breath that whoever cleaned out this office didn't find this particular partition. My father was a paranoid man, not that I blame him, but it was because of his paranoia that he often hid away secrets on all the people he associated with.

And he had always told me that if he should come up missing or dead that I could find whatever I needed to take his enemies down inside this partition.

The hole in the wall is dark but I can make out what looks like a safe nestled safely inside the black space. I retrieve it and spin around to toss it on to the desk. Zach follows me as I step over to examine it to see that there's an electronic lock on it and it requires a four digit pin, which I don’t know.

"Shit," I grunt out under my breath and shake my head, wrinkle my lips into a tightly pursed frown.

"What is this?" Zack questions. “Can you get in it?"

"I don't know!” I scream out, growing more and more frustrated as the seconds tick by. The longer this takes, the less chance I have at succeeding. My only opportunity to do this is tonight, while they’re all gathered in the same place. "I don't know what code he would use."

Zach reaches past me and enters a four-digit code into the keypad. It’s the simplest of codes; 1-2-3-4. It obviously doesn't unlock the safe because nobody is that stupid to use those four digits as their code.

I make an educated guess, knowing how much my father loved me and adored me on occasion. I mean, after all, he had forgiven me for shooting him three times in the chest. If that's not love, that I don't know what love is. And I oftentimes struggle to believe that my father ever loved anyone but himself or money, but if he ever did love something in this world, there’s a good chance it was me.

Using that information, I decide to key in the code 1-2-0-1. It’s my birthday—I was born on the first of December.

To my amazement, the safe unlocks. The mechanical door swings open and inside, as I suspected, is file after file after file. They are stacked all the way to the top and each one has a name of one of his closest associates.

Relieved, I smile and turn around to face Zach. I’m met with the same look of confusion on his face so I decide it's time to explain to him the new game plan.

"This right here is enough information to take down the entire operation and all of my father’s associates. These are detailed documents outlining the crimes of each and every person that's on that roof."

"If you knew about this, then why didn't we just do this from the start?" He takes a measured step back, shaking his head in disbelief. And there's this look in his eyes that just about breaks me in half. It's almost like he's ashamed of me, disgusted even. “Did you want to kill them? Even knowing there was other options. Did you choose to kill them instead of letting the authorities handle this?" He swallows nervously and looks at me again with confusion and anger glistening in his deep emerald eyes. "You know, I was starting to believe that you changed—”

"Don't do that," I beg of him. "Don't look at me like I'm some kind of monster. It's complicated…”

“If it's so complicated, then uncomplicate it because I'm telling you right now that I don't understand you."

"I don't know!" I yell at him, taking all of my pent-up anger and rage out on him even though he's the last person I should be doing that to. Even though he is the one person in this life who ever trusted me even when I didn't deserve his trust. “I think I just got so caught up in revenge that I couldn't think straight. I couldn't see any other option. I look back at the person I could have become and I blame my father and all of his associates. They almost turned me into someone who is just as evil as they are and that's not something I could live with and I just wanted them to pay.” I drop my head and stare at the ground because it's easier than staring at him right now. "I guess I got so blinded by all of those emotions that maybe I forgot there was another way. Maybe I forgot that these files even existed. I've never seen them before." I look up to him, my eyes pleading with him for him to listen to what I'm saying. “Looking back, I’m not even sure if I ever believed they even existed.”

He swallows a gulp in his throat and then sighs, scrunches up his lips as he works in overdrive to understand what I’m telling him. When he finally steps forward, steps towards me, I sigh with relief knowing that I haven’t lost him.

“I’ll always choose to see the good in you,” he says as he approaches and brushes a thumb against my warm, clammy cheek. “Even when you don’t give me reason to believe otherwise, I’ll always find a way to believe you.”

I shift my head against his touch, wanting to revel in the way he makes me feel when he looks at me. I want to make this moment last forever because I’ll be damned if those aren’t the sweetest words anyone has ever said to me. But I don’t have the time right now to get lost in anything but the task at hand.

Just as I’m about to break away from him, he lifts me by the chin and kisses me shortly. It’s enough to give me motivation to do what has to be done. I take a step back and dig my phone out of my pocket. I scroll through a long list of contacts until I come across the name Samantha Waters.

I put the phone to my ear and wait impatiently for her to pick up. She works for the FBI and though she doesn’t work with my father, I’ve been in contact with her before. The ringing stops and there’s a quick clicking sound before she answers.

“Samantha Waters.”

“Hey, Sam. It’s Lola Grimm and I—”

“Who is this really?” she questions, cutting me off. “Lola Grimm died in an explosion nine months ago so I’m going to save both my time and your time.”

“Samantha,” I implore her before she has the opportunity to hang up the phone, “I know there’s no way you can verify my identity over the phone, but trust me when I say I have some information that could skyrocket you onto the top of any promotion lists.”

“You have my ear,” she says, but I still don’t think she believes it’s me. “But don’t waste my time.”

“First things first, I need to know that no matter what happens in this conversation that I remain a dead woman.”

“You’re being serious,” she questions lowly. “How did you—?”

“The hows and the whys aren’t important right now, but just promise me that you’re not going to come after me. I know you can’t give immunity to a dead girl, but I need to hear those words from your lips.”

“I promise,” she says shortly, and it’s enough to allow me to pass the information over to her.

“Send a unit to the old Grimm Industries complex.” I wet my lips and swallow, fully knowing that there’s no returning from this. “There’s an invite-only party of sorts on the rooftop and every single man up there is responsible for domestic acts of terror.”

“This sounds insane,” she scoffs. “If this is some kind of joke, I’ll find you, whoever you are, wherever you are.”

“Just listen to me!” I yell, my voice cracking in half. “The people responsible for the Lillabee Supermarket bombing are here right now.” I catch Zach staring at me blankly, shaking his head in almost disgust. I can’t bear to look at him right now though so I pivot on my feet to stare out the large windows. “Every single one of my father’s closest associates are all gathered on the rooftop of the Grimm building, but they’re not going to be here for long and I don’t know if they’ll ever all be in the same place again.”

“Can you prove any of this?”

“Yes.” I glance back at the stack of files on the desk. “I’ve got documented proof of every single one of them. But you need to hurry.”

“I’m sending a unit, but like I said, I swear to God if this is some kind of joke or prank—”

“It’s not!”

“I’m going to need you to stick around to hand over the papers. I won’t be there for at least thirty minutes but I’ll have the local authorities there within five minutes and then investigative units within fifteen.”

I nod, as if she can see me through the phone or something, before hanging up and pushing my phone back into the pocket of my pants. And when I twist back to face Zach, I don’t know if he’s afraid of me or something else, but there’s this look on his face that I can’t quite pinpoint the nature of.

“Your people were responsible for that supermarket explosion?” He shakes his head and sighs, almost collapses to the floor like he’s giving up or something. He takes a careful step backwards and drops down into the chair to steady himself. “Thirty-seven people died that day. Some of them were children.” He hooks a gaze up to me like I planted the bomb myself.

“I didn’t know about it until it was too late.” In an instant, tears begin to stream down my face because of the guilt I feel. “That’s right before I came to you the first time. I thought back then that I could change my father, but I was still holding onto a fantasy.”

“You’re not like your father,” he says softly and wets his lips before looking up so that his eyes meet mine. “You’re nothing like him.”

“Then why are you looking at me like that?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs, he sighs, he looks anywhere other than straight at me. “It’s not you. It’s these people.” His teeth sink deep into his lip, deep enough to draw blood before he rises to his feet and steps to me, caresses each of my arms with his hands. “I get it now. I get why you wanted them all to die.”

“We should go,” I say as I continue to wipe away the tears from my eyes. “Grab the evidence and get out of this building before the authorities get here. And then…” I look up to him and force a smile. “And then I need you to leave and I’ll handle this. I’ll exchange the files with Samantha and then I’ll meet you at the factory afterwards.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

I purse my lips flatly. “I’m not giving you a choice.”

“That’s the Lola I know.” Though the tension is wire-tight in the air, he still manages to smile as he cradles a palm against the back of my head and pulls me into a kiss. His lips are cracked and dry but I’ve never felt more loved than I do right now. He’s seen every single one of my demons and he still wants me.

More than ever, I believe that my father never loved me. If he did, he never would have exposed me to this world. And now more than ever, I know, too, that I don’t love him. May he rest in peace, but I will never utter his name again.

I retreat from the kiss not because I wish to—if I had it my way, I’d stay here kissing Zach forever—but because we need to get out of this building before the shit hits the fan. And it will hit the fan. Once these men realize that their time is just about up, they’re going to fight like hell to escape their fates.

I don’t want to be in the crossfire.

Zach grabs the safe off of the desk, but forgets to close it first so a handful of files fall out onto the floor. He groans before sitting the safe back down onto the desk and then bending at his knees to collect the files.