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“Uh… I… don’t… uh…” I’m stuttering and my tongue feels heavier. My brain is freaking out, it’s all static-like and it just can’t process the information it just received. I must be mistaken. Then I hear it again. That laugh. Nightmarish, familiar, ugly.
It’s like reality has slowed down as I move toward the door to let myself out. Mikhail follows closely behind me when his boss yells, “Noah! Where the hell are you?”
I vaguely feel Mikhail’s touch as he checks in with me before answering but I can’t give him my attention, not until I can confirm for sure that this is all just a mistake.
“Yes sir!” Mikhail yells back and hurries to the front. My feet catch up to him where I see the boss ushering him to the man I never thought I’d see again in my life.
I had imagined that he was dead, dreamt of creative ways he could’ve suffered to make me believe that I’d never had to worry about seeing his face again. Mikhail approaches him, professionally, with a smile and respect and I feel sick.
He’s not alone. He’s with two younger children and a woman who looks younger than I am. He has the nerve to be smiling even. To be alive.
I had been frozen in shock but now fear engulfs me as I stare at my sorry excuse for a father. Survival mode kicks in and all I can think about is getting Mikhail away from this parasite. Protecting him from this vampiric energy that has just infested our lives. I can’t let him near anything or anyone I love. His energy is poison; he’s a very bad person. And these children? Who are they to him? Are they safe? He shouldn’t be allowed around children. Who is this woman?
I want to say something but I don’t want to alert this man to my existence. I want to get Mikhail away in private, warn him, expose Harry Burns for the vermin he is. I can feel my heart beating beneath my tongue as I struggle to be discreet and get a word in. But that heaviness of the tongue persists still. My brain has melted into a puddle and I’m drowning in it.
I’m trying hard not to stare because I don’t want the rat’s attention on me but he doesn’t seem to recognize me. He wouldn’t, he sold me when I was twelve, probably thinks I’m dead. Doesn’t give a shit. I hate that he’s smiling with one of the men I love. I hate that he’s around children. I can’t cause a scene because I’m supposed to be blending in. And if I stand here any longer, I’m going to pass out. I need to put some distance between us.
I wait until Mikhail glances at me while speaking and mouth to him. “I’m going back to work.”
He excuses himself from the customers and walks over to me. “No, are you okay? They’ll be gone soon.”
At this point, it’s too late for that. I want to just run away. I force a smile. “No, it’s okay.”
“Are you sure?” he attempts to confirm.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. I was just overreacting.” I rub his arm for reassurance and he smiles.
“Okay. See you later.” He winks and jogs back over to the demon that’s staring at us with a lack of patience.
The nerve of this fucker. I grab my bike. I just need to put as much distance between us as I can. Head back to work so that I can catch my breath. Who am I kidding? I wouldn’t be able to catch my breath there if I gave it my best shot. Still the more distance I put between myself and him, the more I’m able to see past my fear of him that I didn’t know I had. I know I hate him but fear him? Me? Julissa Burns? No fucking way. Yet, I could throw up now with the pressure my heart is exerting, pummeling my stomach.
Yet, now that I’ve ridden away some, my fear increases for those two little girls and my back becomes a magnet to the mechanic shop as I feel as if I’m being pulled back, being told not to go.
I can’t go. That’s not who I am. I can’t feel this fear for these children and do nothing about it, especially knowing that the man they’re with is the devil incarnate with no regard for human life. No, there’s no way I’d be able to get through the rest of the day having done nothing. I have to know they’re safe. I won’t let myself be spotted, I won’t risk the safety of my men and me but I also won’t neglect the safety of these children.
All I need to know is if they’re strangers to each other or if he’s a part of their lives. Because if he’s a part of their lives, that’s a big problem. And the only way to find that out is to follow them. So I pull my bike up next to a nearby building close to the mechanic shop where I’m sure to see him when he leaves. And I wait.
What if I find out that they’re not safe? What am I going to do next?
Chapter 2
Mikhail
It’sdifferentcomingtowork now. I dreamed my whole life about having one career and it’s all I’ve known really, all I’ve trained to be. Then it all changed when I realized that the thing I loved was infectious—poisonous. And sure, while I would have loved a chance to try to change the system, that was not going to happen. Not after what we did. I risked it all and I wouldn’t change a thing.
Luckily for me, I learned another thing or two from my pops as a teenager working on cars because he thought it would make a man out of me. So when we got here, it was the only other skill I had that I could use immediately; without going to school and finding a whole other fucking career. Grateful I found this place.
I need a job so I’m not at home driving myself crazy with nothing to do, constantly pining over my lost years as a cop, feeling like a failure, and turning to the bottle or some other self-sabotaging bullshit. And also, because I need an alias and that alias needs a career, otherwise, it would have people talking and I don’t want people peeping through our windows, curious about who we are, trying to find out what our deal is. I want people to mind their business and I want us to mind ours. I want us to be the least interesting people these folks have ever come across. We have way too much to hide.
This little mechanic shop allows me to stay hidden and I don’t have to talk to people while I work. Plus I get to do something with my hands so my brain doesn’t hotwire itself and take off with me. We don’t get a lot of customers here in this ‘one bay, two-car maximum, baby blue interior, white exterior with the owner’s name written in bold red letters on the front, automotive repair shop. So I wasn’t expecting to be interrupted. I usually work undisturbed which, you know, leaves time for some fun stuff.
It’s not the first time I’ve fucked Julissa in random areas around this shop or taken her further into the forest areas behind it and fucked her up against a tree or in the dirt and fallen leaves. Although that leaves a lot to be explained when she returns to work with debris sticking out of her now strawberry-colored hair which brings out the freckles on her face even more making her seem softer than she is. We get to live out this fantasy with each other as two different people with nothing to worry about, their only sin is sneaking away from work. The only reason they fear getting caught is getting in trouble with the boss. It’s exciting and we crave that with each other several times a week, just to forget for a bit, pretend we have different pasts.
Still, I’ve never known Julissa to react like this when we’re together. The possibility of getting caught is all part of the thrill for her. She needs that sense of thrill and I know that she’s been struggling with adapting to this change. This woman who wears a pink waitress dress and white clunky shoes who smiles at customers while a boss is constantly over her shoulder, telling her what to do is NOT Julissa. But she’s trying, for all of us. And I’m not complaining at all about this type of thrill. Usually, it’s hard, it’s fast and we finish within her lunch break and she’s hopping out of here, her cheeks matching her hair.
But I’m not sure what happened today. This time she was spooked. Maybe it’s just as she said; an overreaction. Probably she forgot that she didn’t do something at work? What other reason could there be? These strangers? I look them over. Nothing is terrifying about the old man, dressed in a flat hat, baggy clothing, and missing a few teeth, standing before me. Or the two adorable little kids and their mother.
The little boy who looks no more than three years old dashes off through the shop in between all the equipment sitting against the wall and the car parked in front of it. My stomach cramps as I run to scoop the kid up.
