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“Stay away from us. That’s the best thing you can do for him.”
I hung up. Jack’s laughter was a temporary balm, but as he played, my mind couldn’t escape the shadows. That phone call had shattered our peaceful moment. I put on a brave face for my nephew, but I was reeling.
I called Jack. “It’s time to leave!”
Jack fussed as I dragged him from the swing set. As we marched through the parking lot, I glimpsed a man in a car, his arm slung over the steering wheel.
Achille.
He raised his head, his glare piercing.
I ripped out the piece of notebook paper with the lyrics, folded it, and stuck it under his windshield wiper. Then I tugged Jack’s hand and we left. The playground was only a few blocks from our apartment, but my skin crawled. He probably already knew where we lived. I opted instead for the strip mall nearby.
I held Jack a little tighter. Every beat of my heart pledged to keep him safe, even if it meant standing against a world I barely understood. I glanced over my shoulder.
The silhouette in the car shifted, and the door opened. He stood beside the car, facing us. I felt his stare. It was like he’d grabbed my throat again.
I shivered.
Jack squeezed my fingers. “Who’s that, Auntie?”
I wrenched my eyes away from Achille’s, those whiskey-brown mirrors reflecting a future I wasn’t ready for.
EIGHT
ACHILLE
I grabbed the piece of paper under the windshield wiper. I unfolded it, staring at four neat lines of blue ink.
In the city’s maze, where lights cast shade,
Met a man whose heart’s like a blade.
Thought he’d scare me, with a glare so cold,
But his bark is louder, truth be told.
My lips curved.
I turned the page, but it was blank. I flipped it back over, pressing my thumb into the ink. Her rage seemed to pulse through the lyrics. For an hour, I’d watched her and the kid. She’d spent that time obsessing over me. I laughed. I pictured her in her apartment, her skinny arm gliding over a notebook. Writing hateful lyrics about me. Scratching out words. Replacing them. I didn’t hate that image—not one bit.
There’s something about you, Bumpkin.
Elise’s sister had fire, for sure. She wasn’t like most people in Boston, who folded the moment I introduced myself. She had a way of turning things around on me. I enjoyed our banter. And her voice…fuck. She could get me hard by reading a recipe.
Smiling, I slipped the note into my wallet. Being the subject of someone’s passionate rage thrilled me, especially when it was captured in a song. She was different. Her spirit intrigued me.
I got in the car and started the engine. I followed her to a strip mall down the road, watching her disappear into a bakery. I looked forward to unraveling a mystery that sang in dive bars and didn’t flinch at the sight of me.
I thought about calling her. Just to hear her voice. Instead I texted a merc who sometimes helped me with jobs.
I have a job for you. Pay will be premium. Need you to break into a home and steal something for me.
V
Where?
After forwarding the information in a message, I reclined my seat. Then I waited. I needed a plan to ensure my kid’s safety. But before I proceeded, I needed proof he was mine. I’d bought a paternity test kit, but Violet wanted nothing to do with me after yesterday.
