There were a handful of things that Deena knew to be true. One of which was- love is like a candle. If used, it's end is inevitable, if not used it will live forever, and if you were lucky enough to light it and stay with it- when it eventually does die out you'll be stuck in an unfamiliar darkness ... one you may not know how to deal with.
The one thing that Deena wasn't sure of is which fate would be worse- never getting a chance to light it... or having enjoyed it, watched it die, and falling in the darkness of its death.
Her love for her mother and sisters wasn't used.
The candle of her father's love offered no light for the darkness to be frightening.
But the darkness that she was left with after Michael, that was a darkness that seeped through her pores and found a home in her soul.
And now no matter whose love tried to lighten her world, it meant nothing.
Watching Jack trying to convince her to stay was the only time she grew conscious of how numb she felt towards his attempt. There was nothing. No spark. No warmth. Not like the first couple of weeks with him. The only thing she felt now was a sense of urgency. She wanted him to hurry in realizing that it wasn't possible for her to care any less for what he felt.
All she wanted was for him to finish trying.
When Mr. Masser told her in detail what he did to the only man she could ever love, Deena saw her world tumbling right before her eyes. She never wanted to relive the months that followed... but she did want Mr. Masser to.
Deena studied her expression in the mirror attached to the visor. Green eyes complimented her olive skin in a way she never imagined. She was undecided about the blond hair.
She looked nothing like the Deena Masser her parents last saw. No longer timid, or afraid. No longer in that awful white dress.
The only emotions coursing through her veins were those that would allow her to execute her plans without faltering.
Valentina Santiago was her new alias and she sure looked like every bit of this Argentinian woman she made up.
Flipping the visor shut, Deena grabbed the incriminating paperwork her father had stashed in the bank she robbed weeks ago.
He was probably expecting her. There was no way the bank hadn't notified him of the incident. Maybe he was even covering his tracks. Dismantling his own business himself.
Mr. Masser laundered money for a Turkish crime boss. Owning a chain of successful restaurants was how he was doing it. The thing that the government didn't realize was that Mr. Masser wasn't the real owner of those establishments. Ferhat Karim was. The notorious crime boss of The Cage.
Looking around the city heavy clouds lingered in the sky. She could see exactly why they called this place The Cage.
It smelled of concrete and metal. Raddock was the kind of city that sucked people in but refused to spit them back out. And the Raddock Police Department played an important role in maintaining this prison. Well, RPD and the border.
Raddock's border was completely sealed. The only way Deena was able to make it past the checkpoint was by timing the officers.
She studied one checkpoint in particular from the roof-top of an abandoned warehouse.
There was a new boy, clearly someone whose hormones could be manipulated. So she waited until his shift was on and drove through using a key pass as old as time. Her cleavage. He was too busy painting a mental picture he could use later to notice an obviously fake ID.
The insides of Raddock was no different than any other city after it's empire hit climax and came crashing down. Poorly maintained buildings and apartments whispered a song of poverty she was unfamiliar with. It was like New York City with less sophistication and more rats.
Finding the particular building she was looking for wasn't that difficult as she knew every path to the outside led directly to one central point.
Deena smiled to herself as she made her way up the steps of the one establishment she was sure she'd find Ferhat himself in. A club called Pins and Needles.
It was a ridiculous name, she thought to herself. She remembered hearing something about the reason why Ferhat called it that.
The accent she assumed he would have played in her head "Because wiz every person in Za Cage blaying a role in creating za fabric of zis society, we need the bins and needles to hold it together."
She chuckled under hear breath. "What a self serving arrogant asshole."
Behind the first set of double doors stood a large man in a red and black suit. He put his hand on Deena's chest holding her back.
"Can I help you?" the bald man asks.
Deena smiled up at him. "I'm here to see Mr. Ferhat."
Using the respectful title left a bitter taste in her mouth.
"Mr. Ferhat ain't expectin' nobody."
"He ain't expectin' nobody?" she mocked.
Baldy nods.
"Yeah, he ain't expectin' nobody 'cause he's expectin' somebody. Now you go in there and let your master know that I got a collective 5 whole seconds before I walk out of here with something that'll give him life in prison. And if after you tell him that he still thinks I'm a nobody, you come and you let me know." Deena made use of the New York accent she picked up in the short time she was there.
He stands still for a moment hesitating. Not sure whether to take her threat seriously or not. The man swept his eyes over her body. Probably looking to see if she can hide a weapon under her clothes- or profiling her physique to determine if she was capable of causing real trouble.
She gestured for him to make up his mind.
"Wait here. And no funny business. else I've got a collective 1 whole second to put a bullet in your head." He turned and disappeared behind a set of curtains.
She counted to 5 then followed fat man in.
