Chapter 1

1

There’s an old saying that goes something like this: when one is raised by monsters, one tends to become a monster. I don’t necessarily believe in the truth of that statement; not the becoming part anyway. I do, however, believe that being raised by monsters lends to ‘monsterian’ behaviors when one is in the nest. We were all so very young, so very alone and afraid, and there’s only two ways a body deals with fear. It runs from it or it fights against it. Problem is, when you’re a child, you can’t really run far or fight hard. To run from fear as a kid is to retreat into your own head; to fight against it is to take back power where you can.

And oh, man…the power we took back. The little bastards we were.

In the late fifties and the early sixties, there were far more important things on people’s minds than us. Orphans be damned, they had to get ready to vanquish some Communists. So, our tears went ignored, or downright condemned, until we just stopped crying altogether, and the unshed tears, as they tend to do, became the poison of rage. When you clench your fists long enough, you start seeking out ways to use them, and although we couldn’t stand against the self-serving hypocrites pretending to be righteous men, we could lash out at the smaller and the weaker. It was a vicious, predatory circle. Too many nights I’ve opened my eyes and found myself crying in my sleep over memories I wish I could erase. And the worst part about these is that they are not memories of atrocities being done to me. They are being done byme.

* * * *

Current Day, Chicago, 1982

“They have one hundred and three acres right off the waterway,” Mark says, twisting the knob on the overhead until the map on the screen sharpens into a proper view. He walks towards the image and taps it around the southwestern mid-mark, then turns to glare at both Devin and I. “A veritable gold mine in real estate potential alone.”

Devin opens his mouth and lifts a finger in that way that says he’s about to disagree. Which he does; I knowhe does. He’s told me half a dozen times this morning alone that he’s completely against the venture, and every single time he’s told me, he’s managed to find a different “why.” Neither Mark nor I need to hear it again. Mark beats me to the punch, cuts Devin off with an, “I get it,” and starts pacing in front of the screen. “Development costs, environmental issues, blah, blah, blah. But what you seem to be missing, Dev, is that this is practically waterfront. Water. Front. Even if it costs us a couple of million to clean it up, we’re going to triple our investment on housing potential alone. We all know what people are willing to pay for houses on the water. And this close to the city? Two words, my friends: gold, mine.” He pauses and looks at each of us in turn. “Come on guys, it’s the eighties. We have to stop thinking small time and start thinking like the powerhouses that our customers expect us to be.”

“It’s not waterfront,” I clarify, lifting my eyes and holding Mark’s gaze in an attempt to diffuse the man’s rant. As much as there are days when I’d give my eye-teeth to find some way, anyway, to get rid of my two partners, I also know that I’d be screwed without them. We make a damn good team. We always did. And I don’t want to lose one of them to a popped brain cell mid-meeting. “It won’t ever bewaterfront. It will merely be what it is now. Property off a channel that’s been heavily polluted by industry and full of run-off.” Mark growls and tosses his pen on to the table, flopping into the three-hundred-dollar, extra-padded, black leather boardroom seat like it’s nothing more than a lawn chair. “That being said, I’m not specifically against your idea.” I pull the plans he’s spread out on the table closer and pinch the bridge of my nose to get my eyes to focus again. It’s only Tuesday. I should not feel so exhausted.

“But I’m going to play the part of this seesaw’s fulcrum here, Mark. I have to. Devin has legitimate concerns. Why don’t the two of you get out there and get some of those environmental studies done before we make up our minds, and—”

“And Dolwynn and Associates will steal it right from under us while we waffle over bullshit concerns,” Mark says. “You know that, I know that, and goddamn Devin knows that, which is why he’s making this so fucking difficult in the hopes that they’ll get it before us so that we won’t have to worry about it.”

“Excuse me for trying to save us three million,” Devin hisses.