Page 75 of Blood We Steal

Rubin had cleared his throat. “It’s nothing.”

I’d smiled then. “Did you wrap this?”

He’d adjusted his tie. “Open it.”

I had and revealed beautiful, heavy, one hundred and six pound cream-white paper thick enough to absorb the ink from the jade fountain pen that had accompanied it.

Strange that I remember that, but given the state of things, what could I call strange anymore? Strange would have been the fact that all of my worldly possessions had been reduced to the bottom drawer of a cheap office desk in a city jail.

Two weeks ago, I had lived in a modest condo that I’d managed to pay for in cash and had even convinced myself that using Rubin’s money to do so wasn’t bad. I liked the place enough. It had great windows, even in the kitchen.

But as I walked back to the common area, I tried to think of what I might miss from there. All I could come up with was a picture of Nana, Aaron, and I at my high school graduation. And then the back of the closet…that pen that I’d never been able to discard.

It didn’t mean anything, but even knowing that didn’t kill the little stab of sorrow at the fact that I’d never see it again.

“Oh, you sorry son of a bitch!” I heard Aaron yell.

I shook my head. His victory and comeback were apparently delayed. When I went back to the common area, Besnik was there, Arben at his side.

“Good morning,” I said.

Besnik smiled, Arben said nothing, and I went back to work. Felt a presence and looked back.

“Mornin’, Moni,” Aaron said.

I smiled at him, stood, and pulled him into a hug. “How’s it going?” I asked, a brow arched.

He chuckled. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what, Aaron?”

“You know, Moni. Like that,” he said.

“Oh, you mean like you’re losing at cards,” I said with a little smile.

“Baby, I never lose. I’m just down for the moment. Was hoping I could get a little advance on my rations.” He glanced furtively at Arben and Besnik.

“Aaron,” I said, my voice laced with warning.

“It’s mine, and I’m gonna win it back,” he said.

“So what happens when someone else wants an advance on theirs?”

He smiled, his eyes twinkling. “You know I’m one of a kind, Moni. It’ll be fine.” He spoke with a certainty I didn’t understand, but I never had. He’d told me it would be fine when my mother left and didn’t come back. He’d been right then too.

“Aaron…” I dragged out his name in that way he hated.

“Your face is gonna get stuck like that,” he said with a smile as he tweaked my chin like I was ten years old. “Don’t worry about it, Moni. It’s just something to pass the time. No big deal.” He gave me another hug. “All right, they’re about to start up another game.”

He walked away and I looked at Besnik, who thankfully said nothing.

“Damn it,” I said as I stared down at the paper. The lines this time were even more crooked than the ink-splotched one I copied. I pressed the ruler against the paper, the pen in my hand flimsy and cheap, and drew the lines again, eager to lose myself in the task.

When I finished, the lines were still crooked.

I dropped the pen and ruler and stood and went to the kitchen. The honey bun and cup of noodles felt like polonium in my hands.

Aaron spotted me when I emerged from the kitchen and stood quickly. I pushed the items into his hand with a warning. “That’s coming off yours tomorrow.”