by Wolf, Alex
Without thinking, I reach over and grab him by the collar of his shirt and choke him so hard saliva bubbles at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t say her name again, ever. I don’t give a fuck what you have going on, or what you think you know about my firm, but you so much as mutter her name again, and I will bury you behind this goddamn building. Look in my eyes and see if I’m lying, bitch.”
He paws at my hand, and his face starts to pale. He manages to nod and choke out the word, “Okay.”
I let go and he gasps for air. “Fucking lunatic, Jesus Christ.”
“Finish your story so I can get the fuck out of here.”
He takes another sip of whiskey, probably to help with the burning throat pain. “Wells Covington’s data is on a computer. An antiquated one that’s not networked. It’s where he does all his equity analysis, so it can’t be hacked remotely.”
I shake my head, but he keeps talking.
“All I want to do is get in there and make a copy of it. Won’t hurt anyone.”
“Graduating to financial crimes now? Always going after shit you know nothing about without doing your homework. It’s how you got caught last time, fucking reckless.”
“I’m not as spry as I used to be. Intellectual theft is what the future holds. I have a few people lined up to pay me 400k each. I’ll net over a million dollars, one time, then I can disappear into retirement.”
I trace the rim of my empty shot glass with my index finger. “It’ll never be enough. You’re addicted. Don’t you remember what you used to tell me as a kid? The empty promises? Every job was the last one. Then we’d be good. Then I could go to a regular school and have friends and not have to move around the city to evade the authorities. I should’ve been playing little league and having sleepovers and slumber parties.”
“Is that why you sold me out? Let me get busted by the cops while you ran away? Over something so petty?” His words come through his teeth.
“It wasn’t petty. I was a kid and you stole that from me too. You were already caught. They caught you. What’d you want me to do? I thought you’d want me to get away. Not voluntarily turn myself in because you fucked up.” I sigh. “I don’t even give a shit. And the answer is no. So, don’t come near me again. Or that choke hold will feel like a tickle compared to what I’ll do to you.” I stand up and start to walk away.
“This is happening, son. Don’t pretend like it’s not. This is what you are. You’re just like me, whether you want to admit it or not.”
“Fuck you.”
He stands up and pretends to brush some invisible dust off my shoulder, then taps me on the cheek with his open palm. “I know everything about you. What you’ve become. How you became it. I don’t think you want that getting back to your boss, the authorities, or your little girlfriend.”
My stomach rolls, and nothing but pure shame rolls through me.
He doesn’t even wait for me to respond. “That’s what I thought.” He walks a step past me and says over his shoulder. “I’ll be in touch.”
It all hits me at once. This was my biggest fear. I knew all this was going to come back to me, even though I lived in denial. The thing is, what’s eating me up inside isn’t that everything is about to end for me. It’s that I know what I have to do with Mary. It’s the only way to keep her safe.
My heart shatters at the thought, but I can’t have her around all this. I just can’t.
Mary Patrick
I haven’t heard from Rick since last night after he walked me to my apartment. I don’t want to be that clingy girlfriend who freaks out about little things, but something just doesn’t feel right.
Today was the most uneventful day I’ve had at work in weeks. It was awesome. No Wells Covington drama, no gossip—I just did my work and went home. Afterward, I went to the church to help out Pastor Jeremiah.
Rick didn’t show up. He’s almost always there unless he has to work. Even Jeremiah mentioned it and said he hadn’t heard from him.
Now, I’m sitting here worried because Rick hasn’t texted me, hasn’t called, never showed up at the office, didn’t show up at church.
Maybe I’m a little more worried because I saw him arguing with that guy in the street, and then they walked away together. Am I just overanalyzing things? Is this what needy girlfriends do? He’s a private investigator. I’m sure those types of encounters happen all the time with him. Maybe he just ran into someone he knows. Maybe it was a contact for a case, and they just had a disagreement and worked it out. I don’t know.
I’ve never been the person who needs to know everything about everyone, always have the latest gossip, but I care about Rick so much. I want to know things about him. I want to know what he does, where he comes from, what made him—him. My mind goes to the worst possible places. He always calls and texts nonstop and now he just cuts me off.
Yes, I’m definitely worried.
Relax, he’ll call.
I start bingeing Friends because how can Joey not turn a bad day around? It’s my go-to move, and not even that is working. I just stare at the screen, but none of it makes sense. The dialogue is just words out loud, but I don’t know what they even mean.
I’m a rational person, very grounded, and right now my mind is going to places I’m unfamiliar with. An hour passes. Then two. Still no word, and Rick said we were going to hang out tonight. It’s almost time for bed and that promise has been broken without so much as a phone call or text. What’s even worse is I cannot allow this type of precedent to be set. I don’t want him to put me in this kind of a position. We’re less than a month into this thing, and this is starting already. It’s unacceptable. I’ve seen these patterns. I’ve talked to friends and observed relationships and marriages. It’s the worst sign there is.
So, what happened? Did Rick get what he wanted and now he’s just going to string me along with empty promises? I know that’s not true. It might be what my brain is trying to tell me, but I’ve seen the way Rick looks at me, the way he behaves around me. I hate this cycle.
This is how my whole night goes every time he does this. I go down this entire train of thought, imagining the worst. Then scold myself right after for making it about myself, and what if Rick has things going on in his own life that have nothing to do with me? How selfish can I be?
I reach for my phone more times than I can count and play out a thousand scenarios in my head before setting it back down. I need to just be patient. I’m allowed to be upset, but I need to be patient. I’ll just wait until he makes contact, take whatever information he has to give, and make an assessment. That’s the correct and rational thing to do.
The only thing is, as I lay down in my bed, turn out the lights, and don’t feel his arms wrapped around me—I feel empty. It’s an emptiness I didn’t even know I could feel just a short time ago, but now that it’s there, I don’t know what to do. I’ve given part of myself to him and now I don’t know if I could get it back, even if I wanted to. Before, I was self-reliant, had control over everything. Now, I’m powerless over my emotions.
I glance to the phone once more, begging it in my mind to ring. But, it doesn’t. It feels so silly. To care this much about hearing someone else’s voice.
I don’t know if I should be mad, sad, call someone to check in on him. I have to remind myself he’s a grown man and can take care of himself. I’m sure nothing is wrong. He’s probably working and just forgot. Maybe that’s it.
As I rest my head on my pillow and close my eyes, the only thing going through my mind is that he better have a damn good reason for this.
Rick Lawrence
I have a plan, and it’s not pretty. It’s going to ruin my life, but I have to force myself to do it.
Going inside the office building today seems impossible. I have to do it, but this is the worst, gut-twisting feeling I’ve ever had in my life. Nausea creeps up my throat every time I even think about it.
How could I be so stupid to think everything wouldn’t catch up
to me? How could I ever think I could have a normal relationship with a woman I love, or a real job that I actually care about? That type of life doesn’t exist for a man like me.
Every footstep I take, it’s a knife in my gut, twisting and ripping, knowing what I have to do.
I have to look Mary in the eye and break her heart.
I have things I need to do, sins of my past I need to atone for, and she’s not safe around me. Nobody is safe around me. It’s why I’ve always kept everyone at arm’s length. I’ve never gotten close to anyone before her. She’s been pushing for this information, and I was going to give it to her and let the chips fall. I thought maybe there was a chance we could form a plan.
But not with my father back in the picture, blackmailing me into shit. It’s no longer safe.
If I’m honest with her, she’ll try to help me. She’ll want to be involved. I can’t let that happen. I don’t want her to be an accessory to anything. I won’t let my father ruin her life too.
The second I round the corner and see her, all the air leaves my lungs. I didn’t want to have to do this at the office, but anywhere else is just a bad idea. I wouldn’t be able to hold it together if we were alone. Mary’s a professional, takes her job seriously, and she won’t cause a scene here. She won’t freak out or have a breakdown until later. This is going to hurt her, but it’s better than the alternative.
This should go quickly. At one time I was proud of being an asshole, having the ability to push people away. At least now I can make it quick and try to be as painless as possible about it.
The second her eyes meet mine they burn a hole in my face. Even receiving her disappointed glare, my first instinct is to go hold her, apologize, beg for forgiveness. I have to do what’s best for her, though. I have to keep her safe, even if it crushes both of us.
I start toward her and know she’ll walk away before I get there. I know what she’ll do before she does it. It’s how she is. I predict people for a living, and she’ll make me come to her, in her territory, on her terms. I would expect nothing less.
She turns into the breakroom, and I follow her in. Quinn is over by the refrigerator, rummaging through it. She looks over at the two of us, sees the look on Mary’s face, then looks at me like I feel sorry for your ass. Within a millisecond, she’s on her way out the door, without a word.
I glance over at Mary. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look mad a day in her life, but the look she gives me… I didn’t know she had it in her. Part of me wants to march over there and kiss her until she smiles again.
Do what you need to do. Get it over with.
“Morning.” Probably not the best opening line, but it’ll do the job it’s supposed to do.
Mary doesn’t respond. Just folds her arms over her chest and glares at me. I could apologize right now, and she’d forgive me. I know she would. It would take a few days, but I could still overcome this. I could tell her everything, and she’d understand. I can see it now. You can tell how much someone cares about you by how pissed off they get when you wrong them.
“Work going okay?”
She doesn’t flinch. Her eyes sear into mine and she says, very cold and calculated, “Where were you?”
I shrug. “What do you mean?”
Her expression doesn’t change, other than her jaw clenching tight. God, I love her so damn much. The rage I feel inside, and the shame, mixes together to form the most toxic cocktail of emotions I’ve ever experienced. Can I really hurt her like this? Am I really about to sever the only real connection I’ve ever had with anyone? Can I really protect her from me?
“You mad or something?” Fuck, my acting is horrific. I sound like an idiot, and it has to be so obvious what I’m doing.
She takes a few steps toward me but stops far enough away that I can’t touch her or make any kind of physical contact. “The truth. Now.”
I snicker, but I can barely fake the smile to convince her of it. “Jesus, what’s your deal?” I know saying Jesus will piss her off, speed this thing along.
Her eyebrows narrow just slightly, but other than that she remains remarkably calm. “I thought…”
I can see her breaking on the inside. It’s happening slowly, but it’s happening. She finally starts to show that vulnerable side, and I can’t take it. I have to do something to make this end, so I cut her off. “Thought what, Mary?” I shrug. “We had some fun together. I stay busy with work, though. I can’t have you on my case about every little thing.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t even know who you are right now. What are you even saying?”
Manipulating people’s emotions is what I do all day long, with zero conscience about it, and now, it’s a fucking sledgehammer to the chest. My heart beats for this woman and I can’t have her. At least not right now. If I thought there was a way, I’d tell her everything in a heartbeat. I’d beg relentlessly for forgiveness. I just can’t.
“You’re acting like a jealous psycho. What do you think is going on between us?”
She glances up at me and I can tell I’ve already destroyed her, but she has too much pride to let me see it. “Nothing. Obviously.” She walks toward the hallway.
“We had some fun. It is what it is.”
She stops at the door but doesn’t even bother to look back at me. “No, it was real. You’re just a coward.” Then, she walks off.
The fact she held it together and didn’t even look fazed, makes it a million times worse. It would’ve been easier if she flipped out, or cried, or screamed at me. I would’ve gotten what I deserved that way. I don’t deserve the dignity she just gave me, and it makes me love her even harder, and makes my heart shatter exponentially more.
I need to get the fuck out of here.
There’s only one problem. There’s one more thing I have to do first.
Rick Lawrence
I walk past all the Collins brothers in the hallway except for Decker. They all try to ask what’s up, but I just keep walking past them. Fuck this. I have to get mentally prepared for this next bit of theater work, despite the fact I want to crawl in a hole and die. I want to run after Mary and apologize a billion times and beg for forgiveness, but I can’t. I just hope when this is done, I never have to see any of them again.
Why did my piece-of-shit father have to walk back into my life? I’m a mentally tough person, but this is pushing things beyond limits. Limits I don’t know if I can handle. In fact, I know I can’t. It’s only a matter of time before I snap.
You deserve this for everything you’ve done.
I walk past Quinn’s replacement. Don’t even know her name yet. Don’t care. No reason to learn it. I’m gone after this.
I’m two minutes early for the briefing Decker wants on Wells Covington. He probably wants to assign me even more work on it.
Decker’s on the phone, and I walk over and slam my hand on the button to hang it up.
His eyes widen. “What the fuck?”
“I don’t have all day.” I stand there in front of him, chest puffed out.
“The hell is your problem? That was a million-dollar client.”
I don’t give a shit.
He stands up and takes a few deep breaths. “Unbelievable. Fuck it, I’ll call them back. What do you have that’s new with Covington?”
“Nothing.”
We lock eyes for a long moment.
“What do you mean, nothing?”
“What I said.”
He shakes his head. “Five years and you’ve never once stood in front of me with nothing to report.”
I shrug and don’t bother to respond.
“I don’t know what your deal is. Is it Mary? Personal shit at work?”
My hands ball into fists. “Don’t fucking say her name.”
He stands there, attempting to read the room for a few long seconds. “You need to get your emotions in check. This is unacceptable. Now take your ass back out there in the field and get me more information on these new holdings
you’ve been staking out.”
“No.”
This time, his eyes damn near pop out of his head. “No?”
“I said what I said.”
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I’m getting pissed off now. Get your ass out there and do what I pay you to do, goddamn it.”
“Sounds like you have a hard time listening. I said I’m not doing it.”
“I don’t think you understand our arrangement. You might walk around here doing whatever you want, but you deliver what I ask for, or that goes away. I pay you money for information, not insubordination.”
“I’ve been through everything. The firm doesn’t have any liability, so get off my dick about it.”
He shoves a finger into his chest. “I make that decision. Not you!” His voice raises an octave.
“Fuck off. You don’t own me. I’m an independent contractor. I’ll go to the nearest competitor if you don’t like it, and I know a lot of shit.”
He starts to say something, and I cut him off.
“Don’t think you can run over me like some of these junior associates or your fucking brothers. I do what I want. I control what I want to do, and what work I’ll do.” My face turns red. “You might get away with that shit with them, but you don’t with me, motherfucker. And if you don’t like it, come over here and fucking do something about it, bitch.”
His teeth grind together. “Pack your shit and get the fuck out of the building.”
“About goddamn time.” I turn around and walk out.
I want to crawl into a cave and never come out as I walk through the halls. Believe it or not, I love working here, I love everyone in the building. They’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a real family. I want nothing more than to be with Mary and keep working here with all my friends. I want it so bad I might die.
I have to sever these relationships, though. I have to protect the people and the things I love. Sometimes, that involves removing yourself from the equation, no matter how much it hurts. I’m a disease, and they need to be rid of me before I infect everyone else.