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I just want to see the woman happy, and even though I know it won’t be with me, I can’t prevent the fantasy from poking its way into my gray matter now and then. Flights of fancy are all they are. Just a tease that I know will never and could never happen.
No one could ever love a man like me. A killer. A loner. Someone who doesn’t know the first thing about relationships or how to share his life. I’ve been down that road once before, and I quickly learned that it just wasn’t for me.
I am destined to be alone.
But that doesn’t stop my service to others. In my sick and twisted way, I’m just trying to make the world a better place, but I have no delusions that I’m a good and decent person. Good and decent people don’t murder others in a form of vigilante justice, and they sure as hell don’t get a thrill out of it either.
Truth is, I enjoy killing. Enjoy the high, the rush of adrenaline. It is as much a part of me as the hands that carry out the acts, and I know without a doubt that once I hang it up for good, it’s going to haunt me all the rest of my days.
I feel the itch in my throat first, my fingers tingling with the need to feel something between them. It’s the campfire. The smoke is in the air, and that delicious char of it makes me want something I rarely give a passing thought to anymore: cigarette.
Just like my addiction to smoking, even though I fully plan to break my killing habit, I know it will come back again and again and in the least likely of places and most inopportune times.
Resistance will be difficult but necessary.
Just this last one, and then never again.
The couple in front of me sit down on giant logs from long-ago fallen trees that have been arranged around the fire in a semi-circle that reminds me of something I’d expect to see in a Boy Scouts camp, and Brenda dishes up a whole but headless fish on two paper plates that Glenn dutifully holds out.
As they sit together to enjoy their meal, my stomach growls, reminding me that I haven’t eaten in…a long time. I can’t actually recall when the last time was. I’d been so eager to get back on the job, I hadn’t given any thought to food, and then they’d hit the road, and I’d been driving ever since, not stopping for anything when they did so I wouldn’t lose track of them.
This job isn’t always the healthiest, for the mind or the body, but it’s all I have, and the rewards far outweigh anything a normal nine-to-five could provide.
My phone rings and my hand immediately clamps down over my back pants pocket, grateful that I always kept it on vibrate. Still, as quiet as I’m being, the muted noise startles me and has me watching for any signs that Brenda or Glenn have somehow picked up on it too.
It’s impossible, of course, but I’m relieved to find they continue eating without pause.
Carefully and slowly, I back out of the tree line I’ve been maintaining watch in, and, deliberately stepping away, I make a path through the forest brush and back to my car with hardly a sound.
The phone stops ringing by then, but the caller ID displays Tony’s name on the screen. I consider not calling back. I don’t want whatever they were trying to sell, but I’m also curious, and I know to ignore the Costellos is impossible. And if Tony is calling me instead of his brother or one of his other men, then it must be important.
I am just about to call back when the screen lights up again with an incoming call from Tony. This time, I answer.
“I’m on a job.”
“Glad to hear you’re still working,” Tony grunts. “That makes me more hopeful that this call wasn’t for nothin’.”
I can feel the request before it’s issued. “What do you need, Tony?”
“What, no hi, how ya doin’? Just jump straight to business?” He chuckles, while I remain mute, unmoved by the attempt to lighten the mood. Tony, unfazed, continues on and gets right down to business. “Listen, I don’t want to take up too much of your time. We have a situation here.”
“I told you I’m retiring. I’m not taking on any new jobs.”
“It’s not about that. Although I’m bummed you’re bein’ so hardheaded about that. We could use a talented hand like yours on the payroll. But sixteen years and ya haven’t budged, I’ve learned to accept that I’m never gonna get ya onboard.”
I make a noncommittal noise, uninterested in all the chitchat. Tony needs to get to the point, fast. I’m losing my patience. Brenda is already cleaning up the site, gathering trash and uneaten food to be taken back inside. I need to keep my focus, not have it divided.
“Anyway, Rudy has some idea about going to marine school or some such nonsense. Says you told him to follow his dreams. That bein’ a lawyer ain’t for everyone. Now, ya know I love ya like a brother, Dec, but tellin’ a man’s kid somethin’ like that?”
I sigh. I don’t need this kind of drama right now. “I didn’t say that, Tony. I would never. You got your ideas for the kid, and the kid has his own ideas. I just reminded him life is short.”
“You callin’ my son a liar?”
I bristle. “Did you hear me call you a liar, Tony?” I’m not one to mince words, and if Tony is going to start throwing around accusations, I’m going to be the first one to stand up and nip it in the bud…however that needs to be done.
“No, I was askin’ you if ya were. Listen,” he says, switching gears, “I didn’t call to pick a fight. I just wanted to get the truth. You ain’t never lied to me before—that I know of—so I’m gonna take your word for it and chalk all this up to a misunderstanding. Maybe Rudy’s just tryin’ to be a rebel, push back against his old man.”
“Maybe the kid just isn’t what you want him to be,” I suggest, knowing it’s dangerous to do so but unable to help myself. I like the kid, and I don’t want to see a brilliant mind go to waste when there is a potential to make a difference in the world.
