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Shit. Shit. Shit. That’s the real deal. And dad’s right. This is the big fish he’s been waiting for. If we get a confession out of him, the promotion is Dad’s. With all that’s on the line, I’m almost more excited to get this creep off the streets. Dad can do what he wants with him and I will sleep like a baby tonight.
With the details settled, I need to work on calming my nerves, so I change the subject to dad’s promotion and the perks it will come with.
Dad’s eyes light up instantly. “Boss says the new job will have me living on site. You can come with me. I’ve already gotten it approved.”
“That’s great dad. But I have my own place.” He looks momentarily disheartened before the look vanishes. I tried to remind him softly. He doesn’t like that I rent a one bedroom off campus.
“I know. And I’m proud as hell of you.” His smile is genuine.
“Maybe we can set me up with a room so that I can visit often.” I offer.
The smile grows wider again. “Absolutely.”
“So tell me about the new job.” I don’t need to fain interest. I am genuinely curious.
“Boss says that changes are coming. Big changes. All for the better. They want to make sure we are solid. Going to be more training. Specific to what we’ve been doing. Well me. The information gathering.” I don’t interrupt or correct my father. While yes he does gather a lot of information once he has a bat or blade in his hand, it is my initial interaction that gets them talking first. You can teach it, to a degree. I’ve been trying for years to teach dad. Best I could do is point out markers that are typical indicators of lying. If he learned anything, I’m glad it was that.
The more dad talks about the jump, the more I agree that the position sounds perfect for him. Dad has a soft spot for the young soldiers. Always has.
The new job means less risk for him and free housing. He will finally be able to get out of this crappy trailer that’s been falling apart since before we moved in when I was a teen. I’m thankful for this house though. For as cramped and as shitty as it was, it kept us warm and dry. In a weird way I’ll miss it while simultaneously be excited to never see it again.
My father wasn’t a perfect dad in my youth, but he tried. Damn did he try. Worked himself to the bone trying to move up from lowly soldier even before mom passed. He’d be the first to admit he isn’t book smart. Didn’t even graduate high school. I think he had potential. Potential no one else saw and therefore couldn’t cultivate. Once I noticed, I did.
I can’t take all the credit for the upward momentum in his career. He puts in the work. Does the grunt work and the dirty jobs. No one can ever know, but he’s been my personal project. I’ve spent years tending to my father in a way that hasn’t emasculated him in front of others.
I feel kind of like a mad scientist at times. I push him in the direction I want him to go and line up the tools he’ll need along that way. It’s the opposite of the saying you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make them drink. Screw that. If you know what you’re doing you sure as hell can. I lead my father to water and he drinks, then he fills up a canteen with more for later.
Though I will admit I may have pushed him too far. He’s taken my extremes and grown them. Now I’m wrapped up in his business too. A business I have no place being in. But I love my dad and for that I’ll do anything he asks of me. Even if there is ample risk.
I’ve let my mind wander too far. He’s stopped talking. Waiting for me to reply or at least acknowledge what he has said. I just smile and nod. It’s appears to placate him and he goes back to talking as though I am listening intently.
Tonight I’ll go out one more time. One final big fish to secure dad’s new position in the mafia. One more. I can do that. Then I can go back to my boring simple life.
A short time later, I’m excusing myself to go to my old room. I keep my clothes here that I use for these missions. It’s just easier to get ready here after dad and I go over the finer points of the mission. As I close my bedroom door. I turn around and lean against it and give myself a minute.
My stomach is in knots again. Something about tonight feels different. I’m just not sure what. It’s making me second guess the risk of going after this target. It’s hitting closer to home than I am comfortable with. The guy is also presumed to be involved in selling girls. One wrong move tonight and I could be his next victim. Kidnapped, bought, sold, and shipped off to some far corner of the world to be a toy for some sick fuck.
Dad had assured me everything would be fine. Just like always. He promises he’s got my back.
I take a deep breath before pulling myself away from the door to get ready. Once dressed, I check and double check that I have my pepper spray, knife and gun hidden on me. Then I look into the mirror and go through the last piece of my routine.
The pep talk.
Ending it with a reminder. If caught, don’t talk. Never reveal who you work for. Don’t trust anyone you don’t know. Even if they show documents. They can be spoofed.
One more mission. One more night. I’ve got this. What could go wrong?
CHAPTER THREE
Livianna
I DON’T HAVEthis.
The man is an utter creep. He’s not even drunk and he’s being grabby. He makes my skin crawl. I’m ready to call the mission off and leave. The only reason I don’t is because this is too important. I need to get this guy’s trust. At least enough for him to invite me to his place, or a hotel. I’m not picky on details. We’ll never make it there anyway. Once outside this bar, dad will take over and I can head back to my apartment.
I want this bastard off the streets. He hasn’t confessed but I know he runs girls. It’s a hunch. A good one. Based on several indicators I’ve read off of him. His biggest tell is the way he looks like he sees dollar signs every time he looks at a woman. The younger they are, the more he stares.
It is taking everything in me not to pull out my knife and stab him. Over and over again.
