I found myself in my study again, in a similar echo of the night a week ago when Karin had come to me.
Every night since had been spent idling around in my apartment, obsessively checking the clock at midnight, as if by some stroke of luck she would come to me again.
She hadn’t, and I’d never felt more relieved, or more bitter.
It was for the best, anyway. That little trick I’d pulled had been nothing short of idiocy. I had spent a decade trying to put Karin out of my mind, and it took a scant fifteen minutes in her presence for any progress I’d made to be completely annihilated.
I downed a mouthful of vodka straight from the bottle, staring out the windows at the city beyond.
Even at night, New York was as quiet as a fish market by a wharf, a far cry from the peace of Karin’s watchtower. There were few other places that suited my preferences quite like the city that never sleeps. There was always bustle, always noise to fill the otherwise silent background that made the echoing in my head seem even louder.
Karin and her sister had moved here after their father’s death, and naturally I took up residence across the country to be away from her. Seattle wasn’t as chaotic as I liked, but it was crowded, and more importantly, it was a thousand miles from Manhattan.
Big fucking load of help that did me. I had resolved never to be in the same city as Karin again, yet here I was, just miles away from where she slept at night.
And then I nearly mauled her within minutes of seeing her again.
What a bloody disaster.
My phone vibrated on my desk then. I crossed the room in ground-eating strides, snatching up the phone to see who it was.
It wasn’t Karin. The text came from Liam Berling, an acquaintance from college.
“Match @ Madison tonight. U in?”
Madison was Berling’s code name for an unused factory space in Brooklyn that held events that were less than legal. It was a damned sight better than rotting here and going insane with my thoughts about Karin.
I fired back a reply to Berling and started getting dressed.
“There you are,” came a sarcastic voice at my door. “I've been looking everywhere.”
I half-turned to see my secretary at the door, glowering at me over her wire spectacles.
It was odd; I’d always thought I’d hire a redhead to mess around with whenever I got bored. Instead, I got an elderly floral-dress-wearing Catholic whose screeching grandchildren were the light of her life.
“Security let you in without my permission,” I muttered. “They must be sick of their jobs.”
“You leave them alone. I proved that I was your employee, so they weren’t wrong to let me in.”
“Yes, they were.” I gave the file under her arm a dark look. “Your morning reports are more effective than Advil; you might as well kill me and be done with it.”
“It’s already midnight.”
“Like I said. Morning.” I took a clean shirt that matched my black slacks and shrugged it on.
Mrs Smith frowned. “And just where are you going at this time?”
“Church.”
Her lined face crinkled further with reproach. “Don’t patronize me, Theo, I know it’s somewhere unholy. You didn’t even show up to work today. You do realize you have a job?”
“I also realize I have no fucks to give.”
“Theo! Language!”
“Fuck my language.” I yanked on a navy jacket impatiently. “I hired you peons for the sole purpose of doing my work for me while I indulge in any fucking vice that strikes my fucking fancy.” I slammed the closet door hard enough to vibrate the walls. “Not to mention this is only the branch office. Perhaps if they did something interesting once in a while, I might deign to show up.”
Mrs Smith’s eyes seemed to smolder behind her thick glasses. “Ever since you came to New York, you’ve been distracted by negative influences!”
“Quite sure I’m the negative influence here, Tabitha.”
“You don’t show up for work, you don’t handle any cases, you don’t meet with any clients. I know you know important people who need our services, Theo.”
I rolled my eyes as she bustled after me, nagging like a hen.
It had been a good idea to hire Mrs Smith back when I was just starting out with my company. I had needed someone capable and trustworthy, and there had only been one person I knew who fit the bill—our housekeeper from San Juan.
Now I found myself wishing she took her job a little less seriously.
“I do know a handful who’ve fucked up so badly they’re eager to shell out a quarter million for it to go away,” I cut in. “A couple of them have even approached me.”
Mrs Smith clasped her hands. “Oh Theo, that’s wonderful! Where are the files?”
“Possibly up their asses where I told them to shove it.”
A shocked silence. “Why?”
“I'm tired of cleaning up the messes of others when I can barely fix my own,” I murmured as I checked my hair in the mirror.
“Then fix it! Stop all this nonsense!” Her short gray curls practically frizzled. “You’re wasting your life away, Theo!”
“As is my right. I started the company as a distraction, not a burden.”
Horace’s murder had done a complete number on me, and I had been desperate to throw myself into something that would consume me.
As far as I was concerned, there were only a few options open to a man in my situation.
He might choose to pursue law, for one, to understand the very thing that he had cheated, and perhaps to set about discovering all the loopholes he could find to cheat it some more.
Or he might spend every evening at the seediest establishments in the city to drown himself in alcohol and parties and gambling, hoping that each new vice he pursued would be the one to finally take him.
But without fail, every single damned time, he would wake up after the night of revelry sporting nothing more than a damned headache.
He would try again the next night, and the next. Ten years of endless replays of memories like a broken reel, no end in sight, starting and ending with a girl with wild hair the color of fire and a laugh like the warm sun.
Eventually, he would learn to get used to it.
“You may have the luxury to feel bored,” Mrs Smith continued, “but the people who work for you have families to feed and bills to pay—”
“And a thousand sob stories to bore me even further,” I snapped. “Am I not paying their salaries?”
“For now,” she said ominously.
“For fuck’s sake, Tabitha, we’re raking in the cash. The only thing that should concern you is how to count all that money.”
“I know you built this company ground-up, Theo, but some days I can’t help worrying about your state of mind. It keeps me up all night, and I just keep thinking and thinking…”
“Then for god’s sake, stop. I don’t have that problem; there’s no reason why you should.”
Tabitha looked disapproving. “You don’t worry because you don’t care about anything.”
Horseshit. There was one person I gave a damn about very much, and look where that had gotten us.
Last week had been a mistake, that much was clear to me by now. I had spent years trying to put Karin out of my mind, and now the clock had been reset. She had crashed back into my life with the force of a freight train, leaving me just as wrecked.
“I won’t let the firm fall,” I said curtly. “Not because I give a damn about any of you; I don’t. It’s a matter of pride and nothing more.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Mrs Smith snarked.
“Just another of my many virtues. Leave the report on my desk, I’ll take a look when I’m in the mood.” I snapped my fingers in the direction of the side table. “And hand me that bottle.”
Mrs Smith ignored my command. “Won’t you tell me about the past? Something happened that made you this way.”
“I’ve always been a nightmare to deal with.”
“You got worse since.” Mrs Smith placed the folder on my desk, not meeting my eyes. “It’s a sickness, Theo, and you need help.”
“I’ve got my medicine right here.” I retrieved the bottle myself, lifting it in a salute before I swigged from it.
“If you keep living like this, I’m going to resign,” she said quietly. “I refuse to be a part of your plan to self-destruct.”
“Is that a threat?”
“An ultimatum.”
I nodded once. “I see. Well then, kindly fuck off and take your ultimatums with you.”
Mrs Smith pressed her lips together in a thin white line. “I know you’re better than this.”
“The last person who believed that was sorely mistaken, so I urge you not to do the same.” I drained the liquor in a single go and set the empty bottle down. “One last thing. I’ll need a ticket next month.”
“Are we going back to Seattle? Oh, that’s wonderful, Samson is just starting to walk—”
“Tabitha, I don’t give a damn about your leaky grandson. It's for me. A flight to London, and make it one-way.”
Mrs Smith went still, the implication of that order dawning on her. “And the company, Mr Valentine? What’s going to happen to it?”
“Everything will run as usual, but start looking for suitable buyers discreetly. No parties with a history of running things to the ground, or with excessive debt. I’ll also set aside a stipend for your retirement. You’ll find it more than sufficient, and if not, help yourself to the bank account.”
“You’ve made up your mind to leave for good?”
“I have.”
I could tell my answer troubled Mrs Smith. She was hesitant, clearly worried about what my decision meant.
Not even I knew that, but whatever the case, I wasn’t going to leave her penniless. Mrs Smith had been with me for the better part of my life. She was the closest thing to a relative I had, aside from Estelle.
“Go home to your family, Mrs Smith,” I said gently. “You’ve earned it.”
“I’ve known you since you were a youth. But if that’s your decision, I respect it.” She squared her shoulders. “I’ll take care of things for now.”
“Thank you.” I headed out to the front door, eager to be somewhere that wasn’t quite so silent.
“But Theo?”
I turned back at Mrs Smith’s question. She wore an expression of regret and pity as she watched me.
“If you keep going down this path,” she said quietly, “you’ll end up a very miserable man.”
I returned with a wry smile as I swung on my coat and opened the front door.
“Am I not there already?”
***
The basement of the abandoned smelting factory still bore traces of burnt metal from the last century in its concrete walls. There was a party upstairs on the first floor, but down here it was a stone cavern, housing over a hundred people comfortably.
Madison was an illegal entertainment club masquerading as something more. It was fortunate I didn't expect much from this place, because it was turning out to be a complete disappointment.
It was the exact replica of every other underground club I'd been to in my two months here in New York. These places prided themselves on being establishments that hosted only the most powerful of the population, the most influential, the ones with the most money to burn.
They never looked anything like it.
This one in particular was designed like a regular strip club with the atmosphere to match. The air was choking with entitlement, thick with smoke from a hundred different cigars and blunts. Faces that graced the covers of prestigious business magazines by day were here in person, snorting lines of coke off the tits of hostesses as they discussed the fine art of money making.
You’d think that man would want to live better if they had the option to. They didn’t. They turned into animals the first chance they got, and they liked it that way.
I sat at one of the numerous card tables on the central floor, deep into my fifth poker game for the night. I wondered if this would be the moment I felt disgust at the way I was leading my life, but as usual, nothing came.
This place might be a fucking zoo, but I was easily the worst of these animals. Nothing was too low or too vile for me. Not gaming. Not drugs. Not murder.
Liam raised his glass at me, clinking the ice cubes inside. “What’s so funny, Valentine?”
I took another glance at my cards before placing them face-down on the table. “The fact that I’m here with the lot of you.”
The other four men at the table didn’t know if they should take that as a joke or an insult, so they smiled back in a pinched way.
“You've got a losing hand,” Liam guessed. “It's written all over your ugly mug.”
Liam Berling was chained to the poker table most nights and was easily the most skilled player here tonight, but he would get nothing out of me. I didn't even have to feign my boredom; this was utterly mind-numbing.
I tapped my cigar and let the ashes fall to the carpeted floor. “You're welcome to up the stakes if you like.”
“Done.” The blond Dane tossed out the remaining of his chips. “All in.”
Two men folded. The rest matched the stakes. I added my chips to the pile.
Contrary to what Berling thought, I held a winning hand, but even the imminent windfall gave me nothing more than mild interest.
“What brings you to New York?” one of the men who folded slurred. “The pussy in Seattle not good enough for you?”
Rob Dalton, successor to a mammoth shipping business, had a hostess perched in his lap. His eyes were nearly black, the pupils dilated from the LSD the woman had dripped into his eyes minutes earlier. The guy was tripping balls and doing a piss-poor job of hiding it.
I took another draw on my cigar before replying. “I'm here to clean up a mess.”
Liam nodded slowly like he knew what I was talking about. “One of your clients? Must be a big contract for you to be stationed across the country for two months.”
The dealer signaled the end of the final round, and I flicked my cards face up on the table. I had the strongest hand at the table.
Cue the outraged reactions.
“If you want to count cards, Valentine,” Picard sneered, “do it at a curb-side strip club.”
I ground what was left of my cigar on the table, burning a hole in the green felt. “I would if you pricks hadn’t invited me here. I’m running out of excuses to flake.”
Dalton simply shrugged at his loss, delving his hand between the thighs of the woman on his lap. “Hey, at least it’s for charity. That’s what I tell the wife.”
I couldn't help a cynical smile. The rich did adore their charity. It gave them a hard-on to bestow their gifts upon the wretched poor and then crow about it to anyone who'd listen.
“A nice sentiment, but unfortunately, this money will be leaving with me.” I got up and buttoned my jacket. “Cash those into my account.”
The croupier obeyed without another word.
“What the hell, man?” Liam stared at me in shock. “It’s a charity tournament. We’re raising money for troubled teens.”
“Cut the bullshit, Berling. We all know the money’s going back into your father’s pockets.”
Liam was speechless at my unexpected hostility, but I wasn’t in the mood to be friendly.
“You want charity?” I plucked a few chips from my winnings pile and tossed them on the table. “Here’s my charity. Spend it wisely.”
The guy beside Liam got up so fast his chair toppled back. He began hurling insults, spit spraying out his mouth, but his curses were nothing I hadn't heard a hundred times before. I never learned to play nice with the other kids, after all.
I adjusted my cuffs before strolling off.
It had been an uneventful night overall, but at least I hadn’t been waiting on Karin like a lovesick sod. She had evidently taken my advice to stay away, and with luck, we wouldn’t meet again. That was perfectly fine.
A humorless laugh escaped me the moment that thought crossed my mind.
Fine? Nothing had been fine for years. I was fucking haunted, a walking shell of a man.
A sudden glimpse of bright color caught the corner of my eye, and I looked out of habit. But of course, it wasn’t Karin, just another woman with similarly-hued hair. Hers was pin-straight, not Karin’s wild waves. The color was paler and muted, not Karin’s blistering fire.
The woman turned and caught me staring. She sauntered over, trailing her fingers across my chest.
“Heya, big guy. Lucky night?”
Her voice was low and sultry, not the lovely song-like quality of Karin’s.
“Come with me and it will be for you.”
“You’re very cocky,” she purred. “I like that.”
She was attractive, and nothing compared to the woman who haunted me. Perhaps I’d fuck her from the back, tell her to keep her mouth shut and not make a sound. With the lights turned off, her hair might pass off as Karin’s and I might be able to pretend. God knew I’d been doing it for years.
The woman leaned up to kiss me, and I obliged. Once more, she tasted nothing like the one I wanted.
I broke away with a curse. It had taken me years to dull the edges of Karin's memory in my mind, but a single meeting with her had been enough to ruin me.
“Everything okay?”
“No,” I said bluntly. Nothing would be, not as long as I couldn't forget her.
And so I took the woman who wasn't Karin into my arms and kissed her harder. She moaned and laced her arms around my neck, giving herself to me. I could see only Karin’s sunny smile at the forefront of my mind, the way her nose crinkled when she teased me. I gripped the woman’s face harder, trying desperately to force Karin out.
No matter what it took, I would forget her. Just like I promised ten years ago.