by Jake Irons
My face is flushed with embarrassment. “Yes, but I didn’t—”
“That doesn’t seem fucked up to you?”
I’m mortified already, and he’s talking to me like I’m some kind of naughty child. No one likes to be made to feel stupid. Especially not me. “It’s a big couch, and that’s where all the blankets were. So what? I got on the side you weren’t on, and then, I don’t know, I guess we just ended up spooning.”
“This is—I don’t even know how to describe what I think of you right now.”
“You seem to be doing a good job,” I snap.
His eyes widen. “Now you’re going to get attitude with me?”
“It’s not attitude, I’m just don’t like being demonized. I came up here and I was going to write a story and I didn’t! Big deal. It’s not like you didn’t get anything out of it.”
“You mean the sex? Is that how you balance things? You get my story and I get your pussy?”
“Don’t you dare imply I’m some kind of whore!”
“I’m not saying you’re a whore, I’m saying you’re a sociopath!”
“How dare you! You don’t even know me!”
“I know what you did.”
“And I work at your former website so I know a lot of things that you did too!”
He glares at me, and I glare back. This is not the way I wanted this to go. Not at all. “I’m sorry, Eli, I—”
“Just drop that ‘sorry’ shit, okay?”
“But I am.”
“Bullshit. Someone who would do this isn’t capable of feeling sorry.”
“What? That’s—that’s ridiculous! I am sorry!”
“I bet your leg was never even hurt.”
“Yes it was! You almost ran me over!”
“What a happy coincidence for you,” he sneers. “The only reason you were up here was to find me, right?”
“Yeah, but—”
“So you found me, and you lied, and you—”
“Will you give me a second and let me explain?!”
“The only thing I want to hear you explain is how you found me.”
I swallow. There’s a hush in his voice that feels menacing. “The internet.”
“Bullshit.”
I shake my head. “It’s true. I have a friend who’s obsessed with you. She works for The Watcher, too, and she goes on all the sites and stuff. All the forums where people try to find you. She made a list of all the facts she thought were credible, and she gave them to me, and I decided to ask at donut shops and—”
“So this friend suggested you look for me in Boulder?”
I nod.
“Why?”
“She never really explained why she thought—”
“Is she a reporter?”
“No, she’s a graphic—”
“But you trusted her enough to come look.”
The rapid fire questions are starting to make my head spin. “It was a desperate move. I—I wasn’t completely lying to you—I am losing my job. I’m going to be laid off by The Watcher unless I get this story. And I didn’t even think—”
“So this was Sean’s idea?”
“It was mine! Well, Frankie’s—”
“Who is Frankie?”
“My friend. She’s the one who, you know, was obsessed with you and stuff.” His face is aghast, and I trip over myself to apologize. “I’m really sorry, Eli, I was desperate! But I got up last night to write it, and I couldn’t think of a title, and I stared at the screen and realized that I didn’t want to write it. I was gonna ask you if—”
He interrupts with a question, but I don’t hear it cause I’m talking so fast. “What?”
“Did you tell anyone you found me?” The quiet in his voice scares me. “Answer me Chels—Tara. Did you tell anyone that you found me?”
I shake my head, and put all my effort into looking and feeling innocent. “No. I told my friend I was close, but that’s all.”
“Close. What does that mean, close?”
“Just that I thought I was close to finding you. That was—”
“Is this ‘Frankie’ you’re talking about?”
I nod.
“So you told her I lived up here?”
“No, no, I just sent her a text, telling her I was close.”
“How did you find out I lived ‘up here’? I don’t mean Boulder, I mean here in this house.”
I don’t want to sell out the old lady at Dozer’s, but I feel like I owe him honesty. “Someone at Dozer’s. I had pictures. I showed them to her. She told me she thought you lived up Flagstaff Road.”
He stares at me for a full minute before making a disgusted noise. “Miranda?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. She didn’t have a nametag.”
“Older lady, white hair in a ponytail.”
I nod. He glares at me for what feels like forever before finally saying, “I can’t tell if you’re lying or not, so I’ll tell you this: I didn’t leave New York to find myself.”
He pauses to eye me up. It’s unnerving.
“I didn’t leave to get closer to God, or Mother Earth, or to be a better person, or any of that shit.”
He’s still staring at me. “Then why did you leave?” I ask.
“To hide from some—some bad men.”
“Bad men?”
“Bad people. One in particular who wants to kill me.”
Is he serious? “Are you serious?”
Eli nods.
“So are you, like, in witness protection or something?”
He nods. “Something like that.”
“Oh fuck, for real?”
“Do I look like I’m joking!”
Fuck. “What kind of bad men? Who are they?””
“The kind of people you better hope don’t find out about this.”
“They won’t, I—”
“I hope for your sake you’re telling the truth. If you tell anyone you found me, anyone, you’re putting both our lives in danger.”
“But—”
“Anyone. Don’t tell anyone. They’ll come for you to get to me, do you understand?”
My head spins, and I have to swallow hard to find my voice. “I do, and I won’t tell anyone, but you have to tell me who you’re talking about.”
“I don’t have to tell you shit. And besides, the less you know, the better.” He stares at me for a long moment, clearly trying to control his anger.
“Now get your stuff,” he finally says. “It’s time for you to leave.”
Chapter 12
Tara
I watch Eli’s truck pull out of the parking lot. The windows are tinted, so I can’t tell if he’s looking back. Probably not.
It’s a nice truck. A green F-150. Big tires. Brushguard. The kind of truck every high school boy in my little hometown wanted.
I wonder if it’s the kind of truck Eli wanted when he was in high school. I know what kind of car he had: a Honda Civic. I think it’s weird that I know that. That I know so much about him.
But it’s time to forget all the E-facts. Time to stop thinking about him, and start thinking about me. Starting…now.
I pull my phone out of my pocket.
I find Chris’s number.
I press the call button.
Chris answers before the first ring finishes. “Hello? Tara?”
“Yeah.”
“Hey! What’s up?”
I swallow. “Not much. How are you?”
“I’m good. Good.” He sounds like he drank too much coffee. “Where are you? Do you need a ride?”
“Yes,” I say. I’m trying not to cry. Trying very hard not to cry.
“Where are you?”
“At the corner of Baseline and…Broadway. I’m outside a coffee shop.”
“Okay okay, so you’re down here?”
“Yeah. Is that—”
“It’s fine! I can be there in like three minutes. I’ve got two riders already, but I’m on the way!”
&nbs
p; “If you’re too busy—”
“No! No. You guys don’t mind, do you? No, they don’t mind.”
I didn’t hear anyone answer, but I’m not in a position to turn down a free ride. “Okay. Thanks. Tell them thanks.”
“We’ll be there soon.”
“Okay, I—” The line is dead.
I put my phone back in my pocket and try to decide what to do with myself. I spot a bench under the coffee shop’s awning. It’s snow-free. I trudge to it and sit. The rest of Boulder has lots of snow. Unlike on the mountain, the snow down here isn’t sparkling. A lot of it has melted, and what remains is slushy-looking and gray from car exhaust. At least here in this parking lot.
I bite my check and try so hard not to cry. It’s stupid, because I’m not much of a crier. I hardly even cried after Cory and I broke up. I feel terrible for what I did and almost more upset by how Eli acted about it. It bothers me that he didn’t understand. But I don’t really have a right to be bothered.
I’m also worried about Eli’s “bad men,” but that’s not something to cry over, I tell myself.
I want to believe Eli was lying. That maybe he was trying to scare me. I mean, wouldn’t the fact that Eli Murphy is hiding from “bad guys” be out there somewhere? Wouldn’t someone at The Watcher have figured that out? And why is he even hiding? Why do they want to kill him? Who the hell are “they”?
I wish he had told me more. I wish I’d had the courage to ask, or to say anything during the drive down. Instead I endured thirty-plus minutes of stony silence.
I need to text Frankie. I need to tell her…I don’t know. Should I mention the possible bad men, or just swear her to secrecy?
Regardless, I need to text her. I whip out my phone, but is that…? Yeah, that’s Chris’s Subaru pulling into the parking lot. He pulls to the curb in front of me and waves me in. I stand on shaky legs, sling my pack over my shoulder, and walk to the front passenger’s side door. I see two shapes in the backseat, but Chris has tinted windows, so I can’t exactly make them out.
I open the door, slide inside, and immediately say, “Thanks for picking me up.”
I turn to two men in the back seat: they’re both big, and both dressed in jeans and gray sweaters. The one on the left, behind Chris, stares ahead, not even acknowledging me. The one on the right, behind me, smiles and says, “Happy to help.”
I turn back to face the front, embarrassed to be so close to tears in front of strangers and ignoring the weird vibe I’m getting. It’s probably just me projecting things into the car.
“Did you find him?” Chris asks as he pulls out of the parking lot.
I shake my head, and say, “No.”
“You didn’t?” He sounds shocked. I guess because I spent the night up there.
“No. A nice old lady picked me up just as the snow was starting. She let me stay at her house.” That sounds like bullshit even to me, but I don’t care. I can’t talk about it.
Chris seems to get it, because he doesn’t ask any more questions. I turn my head toward the window, and lift my gaze to the sky. It’s blue. Cloudless.
My eyes dip down to the treetops, where most of the snow has already melted away. I follow clumps of it falling down into the yards of people that I imagine are happier than I am. They have homes, and…and some of the homes look familiar. I look at the road, and yes, we are travelling in a direction that could lead us back up the mountain.
There are maybe a dozen residential streets to cross before we start climbing, though. And Chris did say I was on the way.
But now that we’ve passed about half those, my unease is growing. “So where are we going?” I ask Chris as casually as I can.
He doesn’t say anything. I glance at his face. His eyes are wide, and staring straight ahead.
“Chris, where are we going?”
“To see your boyfriend,” says the man in the seat behind me.
My heart stops. The man’s voice is deep, slightly accented, and so casual I hope it’s a joke. I glance at Chris again. He’s still staring straight ahead. His hands are gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles are white.
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” I say smoothly. “Chris where are we going?”
“I’m sorry Tara they forced me to,” he mutters through clenched teeth. “I’m sorry.”
My heart is pounding, thudding, about to beat out of my chest, and Chris is still talking. “I don’t know how they knew I drove you yesterday. I didn’t tell them—”
“Be quiet,” the man in the seat behind me orders.
Frankie. Or Sean. Or someone at The Watcher. Betrayed me. I—I can’t wrap my head around the likelihood that it’s Frankie.
“My name is Borys,” the man behind me says. “And you are Tara?”
“I’m not going to tell you where he lives,” I say automatically.
Borys tsks. “That is not the attitude you want to take, I promise you. You want to cooperate.”
I bite my tongue and try to swallow my fear. “I don’t know anything about whatever this is. Please let me go!”
“I’m we can’t do that. We’re have business with your friend Eli. And we need your help.”
“I have no idea who that is! Please just let me go. So far I haven’t heard or seen anything—”
“We are not going to let you go until we—”
“I’ll never tell you where he lives!” I cry. We’re about to start climbing, and even though the ride up is hardly isolated, I feel like I’m losing my chance. I eye the door handle.
“Then it is good for us that we do not need you too. One of our associates is already at his home.”
My stomach drops. “But how did you—”
“When my boss wants something done, it gets done.”
Eli!
“As for your fate, that will be decided once we confirm your not-boyfriend is dead.”
To be continued…
Part two, Unraveling Eli, will be for sale on Amazon May 25. Pre-order it now: https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias=aps&field-keywords=unraveling+eli+jake+irons&rh=i%3Aaps,k%3Aunraveling+eli+jake+irons