Devil's Contract

My tongue is too stiff in my dry mouth to respond. My head hangs down, too heavy to hold up. Maybe the spectators will believe I’m praying.

Finally, the minister’s last “Amen” arrives and he dismisses everyone. I sense people approaching, wanting to express a final condolence. I’m shocked, and begrudgingly grateful, when Z acts like the gentleman he isn’t, politely letting everyone know I need some privacy to say my final goodbyes to my husband.

“Find her a chair,” Dex quietly barks an order to Gordon, who scurries off without a fight.

Dex easily holds me up as Z approaches with a bottle of cold water.

“Drink,” he orders as Z holds the bottle to my lips. I’m too woozy to fight him.

Seconds later, Dex lowers me onto a folding chair, staying close enough to catch me if I topple over. Z forces a few more swigs of water on me until I finally start to feel better.

As I recover, embarrassment closes in. I want to be angry at the men for coming to my aide. God knows I’ve done all I can to eradicate them from my life.

I hear Dex behind me, snapping orders at poor Gordon to have the limo pull around closer so I won’t have to walk all the way back to the front of the church. I’m sure it grates on Gordon’s nerves as much as it does mine, but he doesn’t argue, probably because he knows Dex is right.

While we wait for the car, Z kneels in front of me, holding out the water bottle again, but I wave it away.

It’s been three years since I’ve seen him. He’s changed... matured. I’m not sure that’s a good thing.

Remembering his recent loss, I offer, “I heard you lost your dad, Simon. I can’t say I was a fan of his, but I’m sorry. I know it hurts to lose a parent.”

A rare smile comes to his lips, making him look less like the felon he is. “You know, you’re the only person on the planet that gets away with calling me that, right?”

“I do it to annoy you. Is it working?”

“Not really,” he says, nervously glancing up at Dex who is standing over us with his arms crossed.

“If you two are finished with the small talk, we need to get moving toward the drive where the car is meeting us. The sooner we get you behind closed doors the better.”

Just like the night Tristan died, Dex swoops in and takes control.

Despite being grateful for his help, he’s going too far.

I push to my feet. Even in my high heels, he still has a good six inches on me, but I pull myself up and look him in the eye. “I know what you’re doing.”

“Oh? And what’s that?” he taunts.

“Trying to weasel your way back into The Whitney. It isn’t going to work.”

Leaning in closer until I can feel his warm breath on my cheek, Dex answers, “We’ll just see about that, won’t we?”

I’ve had a nagging question for days, and now’s my chance to ask for the answer.

“You confuse me, Dex. I’d have thought you’d love to see me make a fool out of myself today. Why would you go to any trouble at all to help me?”

Several seconds tick by and I can hear the limo pulling up not far away. I decide he isn’t going to answer and turn toward it, but then he finally speaks.

“I’m not helping you, Katja. I’m protecting The Whitney. You may have temporarily made me leave, but like it or not, The Whitney is my home just as much as it is yours, and I’m not going to stand by and let anything tarnish her reputation.”

I don’t bother to rein in my bark of ugly laughter. “That’s rich, considering you invited murderers, thieves, and assassins in. Kicking you and your gang of thugs out was the best thing I could ever do to protect The Whitney, and if you love her half as much as you profess to, you’ll never step foot in her again.”

“You’re too naive to see that you’re running her into the ground. Now that your money-train is dead, we’ll see how long it takes for you to come crawling back to me for help.”

He turns to leave before I can think of a snappy reply.

Twenty-four hours later I’m in the back of The Whitney’s limo once again. I never dreamed there could be a place I’d want to go less than Tristan’s funeral, but I was wrong. Keeping this appointment with our lawyer is taking every ounce of the little strength I have left.

The driver pulls up in front of the glass skyscraper just off Wall Street. I take a cleansing breath to settle my nerves just before stepping out into the mid-day sunshine.