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Beautiful Scar Tissue of a Five-year-old Wound – Arc Two

No matter the era, humans would always find ways of dirtying their habitats. Take the continents, for example. The only time there was no pollutants was most likely the time before fire. Then came technology. If there is technology there is pollutants, it cannot be helped. Even now, with the main sources of energy being water and sunlight, certain plants and fewer chemicals, there was dirt. Calen had always despised filth.

Years ago, noxious fog created from the power plants and factories that still insisted on burning their energy covered Aquaria. It was impossible after a while to see even the Northern Lights. The daytime sky had a yellow-green haze to it. Now, after some changes, things were back on track. Calen smiled as he took in the view from the apartment on the twenty-seventh floor. From there everything was clear, not a moist, toxic cloud in sight. The gurgling scream from behind him did nothing to dampen his mood. A whimpering sob had him turning, polite smile in place.

The soggy stains of blood would definitely look unbecoming on his new shoes so he made wide steps around them. With a push Laura Grover, now deceased wife of Albert Grover, landed on the crème carpet with a thud and he sat in her previous spot on the couch. More stains, it seemed, would be decorating the floor. The thirteen year-old girl kneeling a few feet from him gave another sob but stopped reaching toward her mother when a hand fell on her shoulder. Calen looked to Kit and shook his head. This one did not need to be hurt just yet.

“Oh, Alisson, what in the world am I going to do with you?” He watched as she flinched, tears gliding down her cheeks.

“Why? Why did you do this?”

Calen sighed and crossed his legs, steepling his hands over one knee. “You have been to many of Mecca Corps. business parties, so you know your father was one of my investors. He was also quite fond of using my loan offices, Alisson.” He kept from smiling as the child’s eyes snapped up to his. “Do you have any idea how much your father indebted your family for me to consider his next three unborn children collateral?”

“You didn’t have to kill them!”

He wanted to sigh again and rub his temples. Youngsters always gave him headaches any more. “I have been collecting from him for months. Things would not have had to come to this if the idiot had come to me and not listen to his wife and try to run.” Calen stood, smoothing his suit jacket down and looked to the man and woman standing by the door of the apartment. They came and took hold of the girl’s arms to walk her out. “I am terribly sorry you had to become involved in this, but it could not be helped. Don’t worry, Alisson, you will find that I am quite reasonable. Had your parents not stolen from me, I would not be involving you now.”

When she was shown out, Calen ran a hand through his hair. He was so tired of stupid people pushing his hand. Walking across the room, he stooped to look through Albert’s pockets.

“You are not going to kill the kid?” That silky voice was bored, the owner of it making it clear that he would rather be anywhere else but here and having to deal with such common things.

Calen looked up and smiled at Kit. “Nope.”

“Sell her to a pimp?”

“Don’t be vulgar, Kitty.” He chuckled, feeling the glare burning into the back of his head. “Little Alisson Grover will begin a more privileged life, study hard and become another asset to me.” Calen huffed and pushed the corpse away after finding nothing on the annoying man’s persons. When he heard Kit scoff at him he shrugged. “What? I checked up on her. The kid tested high on her exams. It’d be a crying shame to let a bright mind go to waste.”

Kit only grunted a reply, watching as his employer made his way back over to the fallen woman, turning her over. “The child will more than likely hold a grudge. It’s best to deal with it now instead of having an adult version try and hunt you down.”

“She won’t, not after finding out who her father and mother really were.”

“Oh?”

“What child would associate with parents who had a ring of children prostitutes, ties to cartels and a lucrative business trafficking human organs on the black market?”

“The Grovers?” Kit actually laughed then and pushed his hands into his pockets. “Aside from their botched thievery near the end, those two were quite the boring, suburban pair.”

Calen smiled, finding the key card to the deceased couple’s safe, where his money and technology secrets were held, on a chain around Mrs. Grover’s neck. Snapping it from her he stood and made his way to Kit. “True, total Dullsville, but little Alisson doesn’t need to know that, does she?”

“Not at all, Boss.”

Sky-blue eyes narrowed, liking his name drip from those lips better than formalities. Calen pressed himself against the taller man, giving him a teasing kiss. “Let’s get out of here. You can buy me dinner.”

Kit smiled, wrapping an arm around Calen’s waist as they made their way out of the gory room. “Of course.”

* * * * *

“What exactly does Mecca Corporations do?”

Calen gave a polite smile as Constance Filipo, widow to Junistus’ governor, asked without taking her eyes from the menu she read. What didn’t his empire do? Instead of saying something so cliché and rhetorical he gave his own bland reply. “My business that will pertain to you, Miss Filipo, is that I specialize in computer-based technology and land expansion. That is all you need know.”

The older woman smiled and leaned over the table to play her fingers across the top of his hand. “Ah, good. It is good for business to have more than one avenue of production. I can relate. So I will not ask for further knowledge until I need more.” Her smoky grey eyes flitted over to land on the Chinese man sitting diagonal from her, who only moved after taking up his own menu until she touched the blonde by his side. His eyes could have burned her hand. “There is nothing to fear, Mr. Li.” She smiled when he looked up at her, nothing showing in his dark eyes. “At my age a woman has sex far from mind to replace it with more exciting plans.”

“Such as joining two islands?” Calen smiled, moving his hand beneath the table to settle high on Kit’s thigh. “When you contacted me, I will admit I was surprised. Five years after your husband’s death you run for governor you win, and now you have some very big plans. I will also admit, Mrs. Filipo, I am intrigued about your proposal.”

Constance shrugged, quiet until the waiter who took their orders left. “Why be so surprised? You are the best. My husband, God rest him, left many great plans behind and I will need all the brilliant minds I can.”

“Thank you for your praise, but please leave that for when I have completed the job.”

“Of course,” she smiled again, tilting her wine glass back and forth. “This is going to take some time. How long do you suppose?”

Calen kept his hands in front of him, ignoring the steak placed before him, and leveled serious eyes on his current employer. “That’s hard to say. I do not think I am wrong in the assumption that after the main plan has been laid out, you will want me for my other avenues of production?” When she smiled, inclining her head toward him in a slight nod, he took in a deep breath, calculating an estimate. “There will be people who are against this, people of influence. Be ready to buy, scare or kill. Then there is keeping the peasants happy, so to speak, foreign relations and extra construction to consider. You are looking at ten years at the least, Mrs. Filipo.”

“Do I want to ask about the cost?”

A charming smile slid over Calen’s lips. “My work is worth every penny you’ll spend.” His smile deepened when Kit’s hand found its way to his knee.

“I have no doubt, Mr. Fisher.” Constance pushed her plate aside, laying her black leather checkbook in its place. “What do you say to seven billion, to start you out?”

Calen did not have to look to Kit anymore to take his cues. He smiled at his lover as Kit poured him another glass of champagne. “I think I can kick-start something with that, Mrs. Filipo.”

“Fabulous! To our fruitful and happy union.”

Their glasses clinked together to signal the deal done. Calen sipped his drink, smiling over the rim at his new business partner. The day had started with annoying disappointments but now it was ending with wonderful promise. Life was definitely good.

* * * * *

The last of the data was safely put on file, another job done and another few million to add to his company. Calen saved everything before shutting down his computer, the information within buried beneath layer upon layer of encrypted texts that he redid every week. The screen went blank, basking his office in darkness except for the dim lamp on his desk. He was tired, it was late and he hoped to not have to look at another order sheet, memo or contract until the next afternoon.

His good mood had been in a steady decline since his meeting Monday with Constance Filipo. Nothing but silence could be heard outside his home office door, no lights on in the halls. Calen sighed, rubbing his temples. He could guess that Kit was tired of his mood swings and left his ass behind while he either went to bed or was waiting to take his revenge out on him as soon as he stepped inside their room.

Every fifteen minutes he had to remind himself of who he was and what his future was. He had worked damn hard to get where he was, regain relationships that he crushed half a decade ago and to step out of the protective shadow his father had created for him. Calen would never regret what he did, after all, things were better and Calen was happy. He was the king of the fucking metal paradise. As much as he said this, he could not stop remembering at it was all because of one God damn article.

On cue Calen glanced to a stack of papers on his desk. Beneath the files and reports a corner of newspaper stuck out. Usually he enjoyed Rory Lochlan’s style and content but she was the proverbial messenger at the moment and his hand itched to aim his gun at her.

THE PEARL ANXIOUSLY AWAITS THE RETURN OF OUR KING

The article did not feature an interview because the man in question had been unavailable. Useless information that Calen already knew and the picture from the back of all of Gale’s books he had released since he left Pearl was what the article enticed him with. Calen pushed away from his desk, ignoring the paper to nurse a shot of whiskey.

Almost six years. A part of him he thought he had killed began to panic. Gale was the only other person who really knew about the circumstances around Mika Knightly and his father’s murders and the bombing of the old Mecca Corps building. They had both changed – Calen was positive there was nothing left of his old personality, the connection that he once felt for Gale O’Kirk . Everything he had once worked for had been destroyed and Gale was nowhere to be found to help. Calen had the fortune of being one of the few who had everything taken from them and building something better in its place.

He preferred how things were. It took some getting used to but eventually he had grown up and took hold of his responsibilities. When the time came, he would do his best to not lay eyes on Gale. He prayed the older man would do the same. A noise from outside his door roused him from his thoughts and he smiled, leaving his office behind. Kit had never gave up on him, no matter the choices he had made. Calen felt like showing his appreciation.

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