Page 33 of Lovely Darkness

He looks back down at the pedigree. “And does it matter?”

“We’re on the same generation, so I’m assuming this is but one… lab, or whatever. We both came out of here.”

“Wait. Where’s Harper’s name?”

“There are no females on this chart.”

“Why?”

“We’d have to ask Donovan. But I think this was just a stud book.”

This makes him smile, then shake his head. “Why is life so fucked up?”

Maybe it’s not a serious question? Maybe he’s just thinking out loud. But I answer anyway. “Greed. Anger. Gluttony. Arrogance. Lust. Envy. Sloth.”

“The seven deadly sins. It’s just that simple, huh?”

I nod. “It just is.”

“All right. What do I do with this?”

“I have no idea.”

“And why is my name on the envelope? I didn’t know your father.”

“Well, apparently he knew you.”

“Is this some kind of clue, then? Or some stupid secret that no longer matters?”

I think about this for a moment. Because I hadn’t really considered the idea that maybe none of this matters. Maybe… this secret is old. Or maybe, this secret stopped being secret a decade back? “Well, this was part of the reason I wanted Donovan to live. I wanted to ask him. I found this stuff right before all that shit went down, so I never got the chance.”

“And do you still want to ask him? I mean. Does any of this shit really matter? You’re the one in charge now. It only matters if you make it matter.”

I look up at Nick and shake my head. “Ya know, I’m not really sure about the first part. But the second part—what am I really in charge of, Nick? Hm? A bunch of leftover assassins. Taking out some hold-out small-town Company assholes?” I hold up the folder. “Because I don’t do any of this shit. I don’t have any labs, I don’t own any scientists, and I don’t have some secret operation going on in some out of way place. I mean, not even I know what happens down in Antarctica. So what am I really in charge of? And the only people who care if Donovan lives or dies are all right here in this house. Would the world end if he died?”

“Well, he’d definitely take some secrets to the grave with him.”

“Like you said, does it matter anymore? I’m the head of the Company. And our job these days is mostly getting rid of people. We’re paring down. So maybe I just let it all fall apart? Maybe that’s the answer?”

“Are you the head, Adam? Are you really? And don’t look at me like that. I don’t want your job. I want Donovan or Carter to wake up and help me fix what’s inside Wendy’s head. The rest of it, I give no fucks at all. But if your human vices theory on why people do the things they do is right, then there are probably a whole lot of pissed-off people out there wondering why you took away their good thing.”

“It’s all so fuckin’ evil, that’s why.”

“I know that. You know that. But we’re…” He spreads his arms wide. “Us, Adam. Maybe we are some fucked-up people. Killers. But we have what we need. We’ve lived the good life. You, especially. Me, I did that stint down in Central America. It sucked. I thought they were gonna kill me. But I learned things from them. Important lessons about poverty, and desire, and what some people are willing to do to get more. We don’t think the same way they do. And I’m not talking about the elites, OK? And I’m not talking about the low man on the pole, either. I’m talking about the ones our age. The ones who grew up in it. Who worked their asses off. Did things that keep them up at night. Put in the sacrifices. And then got nothing in return. That promotion never came. That bonus never appeared. And most of them were hunted down and killed. The ones who are left, Adam? They know what we took from them. And they are pissed.”

A lot of what he says makes sense. I’ve heard it all before, of course. Some people only do evil things. I can deal with them. They’re in it for themselves and they’re just willing to do what it takes. If I give them what they want—and sometimes I do—they’re happy. These are the kind of men I have on my payroll right now. They do evil things but they aren’t evil people.

But there’s another kind of person inside the Company. The ones I do not work with.

The ones who avoid me. Who went into hiding the moment the chain of command was shattered and everyone in charge started dying.

They are the ones we need to worry about.

The ones who like the evil.

The ones who get off on it.

The ones who need it.