by Hamel, B. B.
He pulled out his cell phone and looked at me expectantly.
As I rattled off my number, I wondered: what the hell just happened? I was all ready to turn him down gently, but then I’m suddenly agreeing to see him. It was like I lost my mind because of how close he stood to me.
“Great. Have a good night, Miss Boucher,” he said once I finished.
He was so arrogant. So fucking cocky. I couldn’t believe he came on to me right there in front of the school with his little brother just a few feet away.
And I couldn’t believe I went for it.
“You too, Mr. Sullivan.”
I smiled and he turned away, gathered Richie up, and walked off, back the way he had come. I watched them and shook my head softly to myself.
He was definitely more animal than rational. But I couldn’t tell yet exactly how much, or how badly I wanted to find out.
After that, the kids all filtered onto their busses, the parents shut their doors and hung up their phones, and people slowly left the building, out to other places. I watched them all go, not feeling any particular hurry, though a little guilty about making Petey wait for his nightly walk. Finally, when I was one of the last few people left, I walked down the steps and headed back toward my apartment.
I felt good, really good. I felt good for the first time in a while.
Chapter Five: Liam
The van hit a pothole, jostling me around. I grimaced as I was crushed against the cold steel of the exposed door.
Max grinned at me. “Buckle up,” he grunted.
I gave him a look, not in the mood to deal with his bullshit. He shrugged and looked away.
I stared back down at my fingers and felt the blood again, the junkie’s blood, and knew it would be worse this time, much worse. The weight of the black pistol with its long, smooth silencer was more a burden than a reassurance. We’re always told guns are protection, guns are necessary, but in that moment the gun felt like a burning hot iron I was forced to hold on to like my life depended on it.
And truthfully, my life did depend on it.
I hadn’t agreed to do Colm’s dirty work, not right away. I agonized about it all that day after meeting with him. But no matter how many rational arguments I came up with about the Right People’s code of honor, about protecting innocent people, about protecting our very way of life, none of it mattered. Colm had ordered me to do something, and Colm was the boss. I had to either kill the girl or be killed myself.
And where would Richie be if I got a bullet in the brain? He’d be stuck with his drunk mom. He’d end up walking the very same path I did, if not something much worse, much darker. I had the protection of our father back then, and was spared the worst of it early on; Richie would have to dive in head first and get his hands dirty if he wanted to survive without me.
It wasn’t just Richie, though. It was everyone who worked for me, probably even Colin. They’d all be guilty by extension, and if I knew one thing about Colm from the past few weeks, it was that his purges were very, very thorough. Nobody would be left standing.
I couldn’t let that happen.
I adjusted myself, trying to find a comfortable position against the cold metal wall. The plan was absurdly straightforward. Jimmy and Max would drop me off a few blocks away from a dark underpass. They said the girl walked her dog along that path, or at least had for the past two nights; they figured she’d go there again. If she didn’t, we’d reassess. But my job was to stand in the shadows of the underpass and, as she walked by, put two bullets into the back of her head. Then I’d walk away, toss the gun down a storm drain, and go home.
That was it. That was all there could be, although there were a thousand potential issues. I voiced them all, and they were all shot down. If there are witnesses, don’t do it. If she doesn’t walk by, just go home. If the dog attacks me, kill the fucking dog.
I gripped the gun tighter, my finger carefully off the trigger. I could kill someone. I’d already killed someone. I didn’t like it, but I knew it was necessary. But I was finding it very, very hard to justify murdering some innocent bystander just because she saw something she shouldn’t have.
But dead bitches don’t talk. At least that’s what Max said to me as he handed me the pistol twenty minutes ago, his grin making me want to punch his teeth into the back of his skull.
Suddenly, I felt the van slow and then stop.
Jimmy turned around and looked back at me.
“Showtime, Liam,” he said.
I looked at Max, and he nodded at me. There was a brief moment, a very brief but satisfying moment, where I imagined myself killing the two of them and driving off with Richie.
Instead, I double checked the safety, slipped the gun into my waist band, slid open the van’s door, and climbed out into the twilit evening.
“Underpass is a few blocks ahead. You know what to do,” Max said.
I looked at him and didn’t respond.
“Do the right fucking thing, Liam.”
He slammed the door and they were off.
I watched them go for half a second, and then I began to walk down toward the underpass, my mind reeling. The gun felt like a weight attached to my lower back, and I was barely treading water, in the middle of the ocean. One deep breath and there would be darkness and nothing.
But I wasn’t a quitter. I would let myself become a monster before I’d give up on those that depended on me.
I walked down a steep hill, my boots making noise on the rough concrete, and entered the tunnel.
Above me, I-76 stretched through the heart of the city, though the cross street where I pressed myself up against the cold concrete wall was hidden. I thought I knew where she would be coming from, and I knew more or less when, but there was so much I couldn’t control. I fiddled with the gun in my waistband as my pulse began to race.
The next few minutes were going to be some of the most important moments of my life. I knew that. I also knew that what Colm wanted me to do was wrong, but not doing it would be even worse. I was stuck in a position I never thought I’d be in. The air underneath the overpass was damp, and there were puddles in the street from a recent rain. The stone was worn down from the years, with small glittering bits of reflective rock and mildew stains rolling up its length. It was cold, and the humidity made it feel even colder. I felt like I was miles below the city, alone and freezing.
I sighed and clenched my jaw, trying to get myself under control. I looked to my right and saw that the empty expanse was fenced in. There was small, stubby crab grass and dirt, plus a whole bunch of trash, covering the tiny field. I realized I could probably jump the fence afterward and cut across the block, which would immediately put me away from the body. But if someone happened to walk by at the instant I pulled the trigger, or really anytime in the few seconds after, I’d be fucked. But there was a chance I could get away.
I was probably fucked either way. There was no doubt in my mind that the cops would come down hard on Colm and the Mob. There was no way they didn’t notice the increased violence and strife; I was sure they had informants in our ranks, if not a few undercover people. All of that meant that when the heat came down, I was going to get thrown under the bus.
I cursed under my breath. That bastard Colm would probably get to take over my territory while I rotted in prison, or maybe he’d pass it on to one of his cronies.
Up the street, back the way I had just walked, I heard a dog bark. It startled me, and I glanced out around the corner. In the distance, I saw a young girl coming toward me, black dog pulling at the leash. I looked quickly away, not trying to linger too long on her. But I knew it was her, it had to be her. She matched the description even though I barely got a good look at her. Young, blond, walking a dog. I didn’t bother trying to get any more features; I didn’t want to see her, didn’t want to know for sure that I was about to kill a real person.
I reached back and slipped the gun from my pants and slowly checked it. Full clip, safety off. I h
eld it behind my back, glancing around the area one more time to make sure that the coast was clear. I slipped farther back into the shadows, away from the sidewalk, and waited.
It felt like an hour before I heard her shoes banging on the concrete as she came down the steep hill. I gripped the gun harder, my hands beginning to shake. What if she saw me before she passed and got spooked? What if the dog attacked me? I shook my head, trying to get my shit together.
I had to be strong. I had to follow orders. I had to, for Richie’s sake, and for my people.
I stared down at the ground, at the dirt and pebbles, and watched an ant struggle across the uneven ground. The little black speck made its way toward my feet. I heard the girl descend into the underpass, heard the dog sniffing and walking ahead of her, but I kept my head down and blended into the shadows. I stared at the ant, praying the girl wouldn’t notice me, my hands shaking, sweat forming and dripping down my back. Silently, I kicked the small black speck away, but I didn’t crush it.
Once she was a few feet beyond me, I pushed away from the wall and walked up behind her, the gun gripped in my hands. I held it tight, maybe eight feet away, and stared at the back of her head. There was something strange, something familiar about it; I couldn’t figure it out, but I could have sworn I knew her. Trying not to think too much, I held the gun up, finger covering the trigger, hands shaking like mad, but it wouldn’t matter: I was too close to miss.
I had to pull the trigger.
Fuck, I had to kill her.
Otherwise, Richie was fucked.
My people were fucked.
Colm would burn everything I loved to the ground, and his people would spread the ashes across the city as a message to those that defied him.
As I tensed my finger, the dog suddenly looked back at me and started to bark.
“Petey, stop it,” the girl said and began to turn back.
My eyes went wide, terror springing into my chest. I didn’t think it was possible to feel more afraid, more broken and confused, but it was. Adrenaline spiked in my core, causing me to feel almost dizzy. Time slowed down, and I made my decision faster than I even knew possible. Before the girl could turn fully, I whipped the gun behind my back, out of sight.
As she faced me, I felt something break inside my chest. I felt something change forever, something shift in my world. I knew I wasn’t going to pull the trigger, and could never pull the trigger again for a man like Colm. I knew my life just got that much more dangerous.
I worked my jaw, trying to find words, eyes wide and heart racing.
Chapter Six: Ellie
“Liam? What are you doing down here?” I asked, laughing.
He looked as surprised as I felt, although he was sweating and a little pale. Still, he was as handsome as always, with a chiseled jaw and a certain presence about him. Petey barked some more, and I pulled softly at his leash.
“Stop, Petey, calm down,” I said, and he looked up at me.
Liam didn’t say anything. He looked like he was trying to formulate words, but nothing was coming out. Something felt weird about the whole situation, and I wondered what the hell he was doing down in an underpass with nobody else in sight. I hadn’t seen him as I was walking, which meant he must have been hiding somewhere out of sight, or maybe he had come from a path I hadn’t noticed. I stared at him quizzically.
“Liam?” I asked again, taking a step closer.
Suddenly his shocked and confused expression melted away, replaced by his large, cocky smile.
“What, are you following me or something?” he said.
I laughed. Petey barked again, and I kneeled down next to him and began to gently pet his shoulders, calming him. Liam did something with his right arm, maybe dropped something behind him, and then came a little closer.
“Who’s this guy?” he asked.
“This is Petey.”
“Hey there, Petey.” He held his hand out for Petey to sniff, and he began to softly stroke his back.
“What are you doing down here? You scared me,” I said.
He laughed. “Sorry about that. I was just out for a walk.”
I looked around. “Where’d you come from?”
He gestured back the way I had come. “Back there. I saw you from a block up and thought I’d catch you, say hello.”
“Oh, well hey.”
He grinned at me. “Hey yourself.”
There was something about him, something irresistible. I couldn’t tell if it was his muscled body or his confidence, but I hadn’t been able to get him out of my mind ever since he had approached me earlier to ask me out. He had acted like it was obvious that I would say yes, and for whatever reason, he was right. Just like back at the school, I felt compelled to be around him.
I stood up and looked around as he kept petting Petey.
“Creepy place,” I mumbled.
“What’s that?”
“Just saying how this is a creepy spot.”
He looked around and shrugged. “No different than anywhere else.”
“You’re probably right,” I said softly.
He stood up. “Where are you headed?”
I shrugged. “Just a few more blocks and then back home. Feel like joining me?”
“I’d really like that,” he said. He said it with such a serious expression, like it was the most important thing in the world. I couldn’t help but laugh.
“What?” he asked, the serious expression fading, replaced by his smile.
“Nothing. You just looked so serious. It’s just a walk,” I said, teasing.
“Not just a walk, the best walk of your life.”
“Yeah, why’s that?”
He grinned his perfect, arrogant smile. “Because I’m here.”
I laughed again and shook my head. “All right then. Let’s get going.”
I started moving, and Petey charged ahead. For some reason, he was being particularly bad, like he had no interest in doing anything but pulling me along behind him. I guessed it was punishment for coming home later than usual.
“So, how long have you had him?” Liam said.
“Little more than a year. He was a rescue.”
“Good looking dog.”
“You should have seen him when I got him. He was a mess, way underweight, had worms and bite wounds from fighting other strays.”
“That’s horrible.”
“He’s a great dog, though.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I like him.”
We walked together in a short silence as Petey moved ahead of us, sniffing at the ground. We hit the other side of the underpass and started to walk uphill, heading south and away. For some reason, I felt relieved to get out of there. It felt claustrophobic and strange, like the roof and all the cars were going to collapse on top of me. I had been feeling a little off-center ever since I saw those guys dumping the packages, though, and it was probably nothing to worry about. Except, for some reason, even with Liam walking beside me, I couldn’t shake the funk.
“So, how did you end up teaching?” he asked me.
“I’m not really sure, honestly.”
He laughed. “Not a ringing endorsement.”
“No, but it’s true. I studied education in college and all that, but I don’t really know why I decided to.”
“I hear you. Funny how that can happen sometimes.”
“What about you? I mean, how did you get into restaurants?”
He looked away. “It was a family business. I took after my old man.”
“What sort of place did he own?”
“He owned a bunch of spots downtown. Most of them are gone now. Some of them were sold.”
“Anything I would know?”
He shook his head. “Probably not. Real shitty, small places. A few Irish bars, a few delis, stuff like that.”
“What’s your place like?”
“The hipsters call it a gastropub, but I call it a bar with decent food.”
I laughed. “I’ve never
heard that before, ‘gastropub.’”
“What can I say, I’m very sophisticated.”
I laughed again and touched his arm. I wasn’t sure why I did it; there was something about the moment, funny and intimate, and I wanted to feel him for a second. He didn’t flinch away, and I got a short moment to feel the bulging muscles under his tailored black button-down shirt. He smiled at me and moved a step closer as we turned a corner, heading west.
“Anyway, that’s enough about me,” he said. “Where did you grow up?”
“Outside of the city, in a suburb called Trevose. What about you?”
“Here, in Philly. I’m a born and bred native.”
“I figured. You have that something.”
“Oh yeah, that something? I can’t tell if I’m being insulted or not.”
“You’re not, or maybe you are, I don’t know. You just have this attitude.”
He laughed and moved closer, our bodies inches away. I could practically feel the heat rolling off him and smell his clean musky scent.
“You don’t seem to mind it, Miss Boucher,” he said.
“Careful, Mr. Sullivan,” I replied, smiling.
He opened his mouth to say something when suddenly his phone started ringing. For a brief second, something flashed across his face, some emotion I wasn’t sure I could read. It was possibly terror, but that didn’t make sense. But it was gone before I could really understand what had happened.
“Sorry. I need to get this,” he said.
“Sure, okay.”
He pulled the phone out of his pocket, turned, and walked in the opposite direction from me. He flipped it open and answered it, speaking low and moving farther away. I watched him and could see how tense he was, his whole body practically wrapped around the phone. I crouched down next to Petey, who wagged his tail at me.
“What’s this about?” I said to him.
Petey sniffed at me in response.
After a minute or two of talking, he hung up the phone and slipped it into his pocket. He walked back over to me, holding his hands out.
“Hey, I’m really sorry to have to do this,” he said, “but I have to get going.”
I shrugged. “Sure, it’s no problem.”