Hope you're happy, fucker. You just signed her death certificate.
Maybe it was a little childish. Maybe Jstorm would never see it. But it needed to be said. It needed to be put out there. She wasn't safe on her own. If something happened to her, I wanted Jstorm to know it was on his head.
There was a refreshing of the page and a reply was made on my comment.
She follows instructions, she's safe. Worry about Shooter and yourself. I'm dealing with Lex.
I didn't bother to reply. If they were that cocky, they were stupid. If they were stupid, there was no reason to argue with them. It would lead nowhere.
I sat there, watching the afternoon lead way to evening and the darkness blanketing the world
She could still be out there. In the woods. At night.
It was cold at night.
She didn't even have a fuckin' jacket.
My phone rang in my pocket and I fumbled for it with a surge of hope. She had my number. The burner wasn't left behind. It hadn't escaped my notice that neither was the gun. She had it, she had my number. If she really found herself in a bad place, she would call.
“Yo.”
“Breaker...” Lex's slimy voice said into my ear, making the hope plummet with a sickening crash.
“Lex,” I said, trying to force my voice to be casual. Nothing was wrong. Nothing was off. Everything was going according to his plan. I was just his puppet like he wanted me to be.
“How's my girl?”
“She eats like a teenage boy,” I supplied, hedging. It was true. It would ring true to his keen ears.
“Well, you won't have to worry about feeding her for long. I will be back the day after tomorrow and I need you to bring her to my house.”
His house.
Fuck.
God damn it.
How the hell was I going to get myself out of this?
“Alright, Lex. What time?”
“Breaker, my man, you sound stressed.”
“Anxious to get onto my next job.” Killing your sorry ass. For Alex. And Shoot. Any myself.
“I understand. As I said, just another day and a half. Seven in the evening should work for me.”
“Right,” I said, shaking my head at myself.
Janitor. Used car salesman. Guinea pig trainer. I shoulda made a career change by the time I turned thirty. Before it was already too late.
“You will drop the girl and get your friend in trade.”
“Wonderful.”
“And the rest of your money, of course.”
Money I had every intention of using for fireplace kindling. I didn't want his fuckin' money.
“Right.”
“See you then.
“Yep.”
I threw the phone on the couch, raking my hands down my face, trying to think of any way out of the shitstorm of a situation.
I didn't show up, Shoot died.
I did show up without Alex, we would probably both die.
But at least we would do it together.
Seemed like an almost fitting end to two lifetime criminals. Two people no one knew well enough to miss. Except for Paine and maybe Alex if she ever learned what happened.
She said she cared.
She said I gave her a reason to believe life was worth living.
Fuckin' A.
It wasn't just that she was an important piece on the chessboard we were playing with Lex. It wasn't just that she was an innocent thinking she could make it on her own like a five year old running away from home.
I just... I fuckin' wanted her back.
If I lived through the week, I wanted her there with me, getting the fuck out of this shit town once and for all and building a new life. I wanted her there. In my bed. Across from me eating dinner, trying to bite her tongue about how much more comfortable it would be to eat in bed. Laughing with me and Shoot over some stupid comedy.
If I lived, she had somehow become part of my future plans.
And I didn't even know where the fuck she was.
God damn it.
And I only had a day and a half to figure out where she was and come up with a plan that didn't ensure bloodshed and death. Well, at least not ours.
I got up from the couch and made my way out to my truck.
A day and a half.
Either way, I was walking into Lex's house in less than thirty-six hours.
Come what may.
Eighteen
Alex
Okay. It was cold. Like cold cold. The kind of cold that seeps into your bones and makes you feel like you'll never get warm again. It was also dark. And the woods were creepy as hell. And with just a map with a line drawn for where the woods would break to a side road, I was not feeling super confident that leaving was the right choice after all.
Well, no. That's not true. It was the right choice. For Breaker and Shooter. My leaving didn't make things simple. Breaker was going to have to come up with some excuse for where I was. Or find a way into Lex's to get Shooter back before Lex called him. But that was something I had confidence they could handle. They were professionals. They got themselves into and out of situations all the time. They would be fine.
Or, at least, that was what I had to keep telling myself or I wouldn't have the will to keep pressing on. As it was, each step sent a stab into the vicinity of my chest.
Which was something I was trying to ignore.
I was just starting to lose faith in Jstorm (whilst cursing myself for being such a fool) when the line of trees finally broke and there was, at last, a paved side road. No houses that I could see. Or businesses for that matter. Just a road. My instructions ended after finding the road. So I figured that meant I was on my own.
Which was fine.
I had been on my own all my life.
I was used to it.
Until Breaker.
God damn it.
I pushed that thought away. It wouldn't help. It wasn't going to help me press on, thinking about how nice it was to not have the weight of every decision weighing on me. To know I could share it- hash it out- make a mutual decision.
Just a short stay with Breaker and my life had changed so much. Hell, I didn't even have to wonder about what I was going to eat because Breaker cooked. He let me try once and I succeeded in somehow turning a box of angel hair pasta into one giant, doughy glob of disgustingness that even I couldn't palate and I had been surviving on sodium-laden ramen and old Chinese for longer than I cared to admit.
Breaker had just laughed, tossed the pasta, and made a fresh batch that came out annoyingly perfect.
I knew I had only gotten a small view of his life. A life when he was home which, he admitted, wasn't often. He was off on jobs all the time. In town. Out of town. All around the country. I only got to see vacation Breaker. I didn't see him coming in covered in blood. I didn't see him coming in covered in gashes and bruises. Things I knew happened frequently because his body had more scars than I could count. I didn't know what it was like to worry about him not making it back.
I got only a small view of his lifestyle.
But I feel like I got a full view of him. As a person.
And I liked what I saw.
Too much.
I've never known much about relationships between people. I had never been given the opportunity to get close with another person. And maybe that could be blamed for the irrational, overwhelming connection I felt to him.