Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Completely oblivious to the impending threat half a block away, Carrie skips on the sidewalk, window shopping at every store that has anything on sale. She doesn’t stop at any of them, though I wouldn’t mind if she did. I’m here to spend time with her, and if she enjoys shopping, then I do too.
We get to the bistro and find a table outside under a parasol that matches Carrie’s eyes. The thought makes me smile.
Everything reminds me of her.
I order coffee, a stack of pancakes, and a handful of waffles. Carrie gets the Death by Chocolate waffle, and when it arrives, I can see why they call it that. It’s thicker and wider than the ordinary ones on my plate and smothered in a mixture of chocolate syrup, shavings, and broken-up blocks.
We eat in silence, a habit I picked up a long time ago, and she barely makes it through half the sugary treat.
“Too sweet for you?” I ask, taking a big bite of my syrupy treat.
“It was after the first bite,” she says, pushing the plate away from her. “I’m pretty sure the rest is going to put me in a sugar coma.”
If only . . .
Then I could handle my bloody business without her ever having to know it happened.
As the thought crosses my mind, Carrie’s attention snaps toward the glass-paneled door that brought us out here. Her eyes widen, and her entire body becomes rigid. That’s the look I’ve spent all morning trying to avoid.
“They’re here?” I ask, taking another bite. There’s no point in acting the fool now. I’m sure she’s summed up my odd behavior as having something to do with her boss coming to town.
She gulps down hard but doesn’t respond. Not even a nod of the head. Stunned and frozen with fear.
Time for Daddy to get to work.
I look over my shoulder just in time to see two men approaching us. They’re both wearing grey suits with earpieces dangling from the side of their heads. One’s wearing shades and walks with a cockiness I’d love to slap clean off of him. The other is bald as a cue ball, and his head sparkles in the sunlight.
“That’s him,” Carrie whispers so quietly, I almost miss it. “That’s the guy who followed me around.”
“Shades or baldy?” I ask. I want to know which one of them is getting more of my attention.
“Baldy,” she repeats my name for him. I like to think that if it were under different circumstances, that would’ve made her laugh.
“Sit tight. Don’t pay them any attention.” It comes out as an order. “Look over that way, pretend they’re not here.”
“What are you—”
“Mr. Aimos is very upset, Carrie.” Baldy cuts her off. “He would like you to come with us. He wants to have a word with you in private.”
As soon as they arrive at our table, Carrie looks away. When he speaks, she doesn’t give him any attention at all.
“Nah, pal, she’s not going anywhere with you.” I drop my half-eaten waffle onto the plate.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “Who are you?”
I ignore him. It’s prudent to remember that this doesn’t have to end in blood. Then I realize I always tell myself that right before things get messy.
“He asked you a question, big man,” Shades jumps in.
I stand up out of my chair to show them how big I really am. To my surprise, Baldy is nearly as tall as me, but he’s got a much leaner cut. Shades is short, softer-bellied, and has pencil-thin arms.
I like my odds.
“Listen, boys, we’re not doing this dance here.” Years in the military, followed by years as a thief and a short stint in prison, have taught me how to keep my temper in check. Where, beneath the surface, my blood is boiling against my skin. I don’t show it. Calm on the outside, ready for war on the inside. The best way to survive. “This is a nice place. We’re having a nice meal. These folks don’t need any of your trouble.”
“These folks can go fuck themselves,” Baldy says. “We’re here for her, and we’re not leaving until we have her.”
“Fine, I understand.”
“Yeah, so get out of my way,” Shades steps forward and tries to push past me.
When he’s in arm’s reach, I shoot a hand out and grab him around the throat. I hold him there a moment before lifting his stubby legs off the ground while staring deep into Baldy’s eyes. Shades latches onto my wrist, clawing at the skin to be let go, but I don’t budge until Baldy makes a move.
He comes at me with a right hand that I slap away. Dropping Shades, he crumbles to the floor, gasping for air and rubbing his hands against his throat.
One on one. I like those odds even better.
Baldy throws a few more jabs in my direction. One of them connects with my chest, but they’re just testing punches. Not too hard that he might hurt himself, but not soft enough that I won’t get bruised.