Modern Divinity

2. Poison

Celestine spent the next day decompressing, deliberately avoiding the idea of going in to work. Her imagination constantly teetered between eclectic feelings of dread or excitement at the thought of Donovan being there. Rather than deal with it, she chose to lay in bed, her warm blanket canopied over her head like a tent as she browsed through her phone. She was sure if she ignored it long enough, the whole situation would go away. Or so she told herself.

Her phone buzzed, vibrating unexpectedly in her hands. The unread message icon flashed at the top of the screen, and she thumbed her way to the messaging app.

Got a lead 4 u. local club owner doin big shady business. Address below. B on guard, they r not 2 b trusted. Use full name if u hav 2, 2 get him 2 listen.

She knew 'not to be trusted' was code for unsavory elements that her superior didn't want to mention for a multitude of reasons. Her nose wrinkled in befuddlement at the message. She didn't know of any night clubs nearby. The town she had been posted in was as sleepy as it was dull, and despite the whole 'don't judge a book by its cover' adage, if there was some seedy underbelly, she would have noticed by now.

She flipped over to her maps app to input the address provided. The location pinged about 45 minutes away, in the heart of the closest city. Though calling it a 'city' was a bit of a stretch. She let her head flop down on her pillow in dismay over the thought of traveling that far.

"Someone needs to explain what the word 'local' means to that man," she grumbled, the pillow muffling the sound of her voice, "And if this isn't the most cliché bullshit..." To her, the trip was one thing, but the location was even worse. She hated large public gatherings, especially in enclosed spaces. And a club? Not only was it claustrophobic, but the number of stimulating distractions around her was no doubt going to cause her brain to go into shut-down mode.

"I hate this." She said as she threw her blanket off and rose out of bed.

"I hate this." She said, again, as she walked to her closet to find an outfit that was gaudy enough for a club but not flashy enough to stick out.

"I hate this." She repeated to herself in the mirror, doing her best to apply makeup on her deeply frowning face.

"I hate this." She said a final time as she waited by the door, checking her phone to see when her ride was arriving. A notification scrolled by, and she opened the door just enough to take a tentative peek outside. There was nobody there except a couple of children playing in the driveway of the house next door, and the SUV that sat idling in the street. She began to exit the house, but she was not used to the height of her heeled shoes and stumbled over the threshold.

With all the grace of a duck trying to navigate tall grass, she waddled her way to her ride, keeping a tight grip on her purse and phone. She flung open the door and planted herself on the back seat, fighting her urge to make herself more comfortable by taking her constricting shoes off during the drive.

The driver kept his back to her, instead opting to tilt the rearview mirror down to get a good look. He wore dark sunglasses and maintained a passive expression, shifting the vehicle into drive without even so much as a 'hello I only take cash sorry.'

Speeding past houses, then trees, then open highway, the ride was quiet and uneventful until they reached an offramp, at which point the man spoke for the first time.

"You sure about this?"

Preoccupied by the night sky and bright lights of the city passing by, she almost didn't hear him in time to respond.