Runner

by A. J. Summer

  She’s so excited. “Yeah right, good luck with that. Mike won’t let you go,” I say like it isn’t obvious enough.

  “I’m not Mike’s prisoner. I’m not Mike’s anything. But that doesn’t matter because you are going to ask him.” She beams triumphantly.

  I snort at that but stop short when Jonah and Mike come out of the office. “Talon, I’m heading to Bailey, do you need a lift?” Jonah asks me. Well, there goes Ana’s plan, but these boys don’t look like they are in the mood for annoying girl talk, so I give Ana a sympathetic smile and nod to Jonah.

  “Wait, can I go with?” Ana asks Mike.

  “No, you have to come with me,” he says.

  “Where are we going,” Ana asks.

  “For once could you just shut up, Ana? Just once, do as you are told,” Mike says, trying to keep his voice low.

  Ana takes a step back then straightens her shoulders. A crash comes from the back of the building, but neither of the guys even turns his head. I’m getting a bad feeling about this. Something isn’t right. Or maybe it’s just my conscience playing up. Ana looks like she’s about to scream at Mike, but then Jonah steps up behind her and wraps his fingers around her arm. “We’ll all go,” he says to her, but his eyes are trained on the door they went through earlier. That bad feeling I was talking about locks my knees, and I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a really bad thing. I can’t decide if I want to stay put or make a run for it.

  Mike clears his throat and nods his head toward the front door. “Great,” I squeak, trying to sound chirpy. “Oh my word, Talon, you are pale as a ghost. Are you feeling okay?” I shake my head and take a deep breath to try and keep the nausea down. “Get her a glass of water or something,” Ana says, but Jonah just keeps leading me out the front door. “Fresh air will be better. We have to go,” he says.

  Take a deep breath, Talon. Runner told them to get rid of me, I’m sure of that. He didn’t want me in that house. Or he knows…? My thought process gets cut off as I double over and empty my stomach into their flower bed. The tension finally becoming too much for me. I’m not cut out for this. I don’t even know how I’ve managed to survive this long. It’s nothing, Talon. He probably just doesn’t want you to hang around here. I didn’t know it was a crime to sleep with a gang leader and show up again later. He just had to say he never wanted to see me again. I’ll stay away.

  I have no business with him anyway. I hiccup and hurl some more. Ana is holding my hair and rubbing my back soothingly.

  “I better stay with her tonight, Mike. She doesn’t look good,” Ana says while still soothing my back.

  She couldn’t have played this better even if she planned it. Let’s hope it works. Mike won’t let Ana stay over if they plan on killing me. All of this could just be my imagination.

  “Ana,” Mike says sternly, and my stomach lurches upwards again. There was a definite warning in that one-word reply. I dry heave and look up at Ana and Mike locked into some kind of silent stare-down. I’ve seen that look on Ana plenty of times. Mike’s is a first. Ana use to tell me how Mike was always the doting boyfriend until she cheated on him and left with their dog. He didn’t take that very well. “Please, Mike, my friend is sick,” Ana tries again.

  “Ana, that is enough of this shit, just get in the fucking van before Runner comes back out here,” Jonah snaps, looking frustrated. What happened in that office to make these boys so tense?

  Ana starts leading me toward the Indigo van, but my stomach rebels one more time, and I cough up some more puke all over the sidewalk. My head feels hot and clammy, and I swipe it with the back of my hand. I hold onto Ana for support and look Mike in the eye. See how sick I am. Why would you want to kill me? I’m no threat to you. I say with my eyes, or at least I hope that’s the message he gets.

  “Okay, okay,” Mike says, holding up both his hands. Then he shoves us gently toward the van. “You can stay over at Talon’s tonight, but you better be back tomorrow.” “Yes!” Ana says, fist pumping the air. She is so going to get busted. Nobody gets that happy to be looking after their barfing friend. I feel much better now that I’m sure nobody is going to be offing me tonight and that my secret is still safe. I didn’t survive this long just to end up in a ditch now. Not now, I don’t plan on failing just yet.

  RUNNER

  “What is she doing here?” I demand from Mike. Mike’s eye twitches a little. Just a quick tremor of the muscle before he pulls himself together.

  “Easy, Runner. She just came with Ana. It’s probably best to let Ana spend some time with her only friend in a controlled environment where we can keep an eye on her. We don’t want her to run off to go get drunk somewhere. She knows too much,” Mike says, sitting down on the desk. He looks like he just had to explain himself to a four year old. And of course he is right. Ana has proven countless times that her tongue wags when she’s boozed up. Jeez, what’s wrong with me?

  “You’re right.” I breathe out a heavy sigh. I open the desk drawer and take out the painkillers inside. I shuffle two into my palm and swallow them down with the Coke I grabbed when I came in. I wonder if these damn headaches are all just in my head. I’m not the kind of person to get addicted to painkillers, but I’m starting to get worried here.

  “That’s not the reason why I called you in here. Reno called.” Both guys sit up straighter and give me their full attention. This isn’t about me having a hissy fit anymore. “He is worried about Daniel Migelli. Told me to watch my back. I don’t know what is going on with those two, beside the usual macho pissing contest, but I have a feeling this is about to get bad,” I say. I drop my head into my hands since it suddenly feels too heavy for my shoulders. Peace doesn’t last long when you always have to look over your shoulder. It’s a miracle I haven’t developed neck strain from always watching my back.

  “And that’s all he said?” Jonah asks. “Just that,” I confirm. I don’t tell them about the girl in the background because it sounds stupid just thinking about it.

  “If you are worried, I’m worried. It’s the weekend. I want to go get Mary,” Jonah says, looking from me to the window like he can’t get outside fast enough. His eyes are cautious, looking for some invisible threat ready to pounce on us. I’m not entirely sure that his sudden hysteria is unfounded. Just then my phone beeps with an incoming mail. I slide my finger over the screen.

  “Shit! LaVaas has just been tagged,” I say loud enough to make the guys jump.

  “Fuck! I hate that dick! Why would he run, Runner? He has a business here,” Jonah says. “And he is not due until next week,” Mike finishes.

  “Yeah, but Reno wants us to go tonight,” I say.

  “He isn’t going to be happy, and the chances of him having the money right now are zero. We had an agreement for next week,” Jonah grumbles.

  “He won’t have the money,” Mike says. He walks over to the desk and pulls out his gun.

  “Something is definitely wrong. If I didn’t trust Reno, I’d say this was a trap, but he hasn’t betrayed us once in the last six years, why start now?” I ask. Some of Jonah’s restless anxiety creeps over my flesh, making the skin feel too tight.

  I look at Mike and Jonah, but neither have an answer for me. I didn’t really expect one. Their silence fuels my heart, and it starts a steady thump, pumping fresh adrenaline through my veins.

  “Let’s get Talon out of here and get this over with. Jonah can take her back to Bailey and bring Mary back with him. I’ll send Ana to fix up the cabin for Mary’s visit,” Mike says.

  “Okay,” I say, then I turn my back to them to open the safe. I hate what’s inside.

  The same gun I used to shoot Danny Migelli mocks me from the darkness. If Daniel Migelli ever finds it, there’s no escaping what I did. He’ll know I shot his son. He’ll know I’m not dead. He’ll know Reno betrayed him.

  I palm the gun and let my skin grow accustomed to the cold steel. It still feels so weird in my hands. I feel like I’m another person when I have t
his gun. Powerful, dangerous, but I’m no fool. I know it’s the man that makes the guy, not the gun. So Daniel Migelli can come, LaVaas can bring it. I’m not the same boy that shot Danny Migelli, son of the most powerful drug lord in Bailey. No, I’m a totally different man now. I stick the proverbial death warrant into the back of my jeans. No rest for the wicked.

  Suddenly, the room feels too small, there’s too many useless things standing around. I eye the expensive looking lamp standing by the desk and measure the distance to the wall. Then I sweep my arm in a wide arc and send it flying. It shatters against the wall with a satisfying crack, showering the floor in a rainbow of crystals. Now I know why Ana enjoys it so much; that shit is liberating.

  * * *

  I don’t leave the office until I’m sure Talon is gone. Then I go and get a beer out of the fridge. I don’t open it though. I’m not much of an alcohol fan. Late nights at work have us stocking everything from booze to extra toothbrushes in this place.

  Sometimes after someone has been flagged we come back to the loan house after our little courtesy call, just in case we are followed. At least it keeps the cabin safe. It keeps home safe. I pop the top on the beer and sit down on the nearest couch. Why is Reno doing this at random? Why flag LaVaas, who has always paid his debt on time? Reno only flags flight risks and LaVaas won’t run. He loves his scaly, disgusting business too much. LaVaas runs an outdoor bar where they use to bet on dogs. That’s right, dog fights. Pit bulls. I hate these kinds of people, and if I could get one round with them in that tire enclosed ring, I would rip them to pieces instead of them watching the dogs tear each other apart. I’ve been to the place before when LaVaas first made the loan to repair the bar that burnt down. Or at least that is what he said he needed it for. We didn’t know what we were walking into until it was too late.

  Jonah found the puppy on the side of the field leading up to the area where the old carnival used to be held. She was bleeding badly. We were trying to figure out how she got hurt when we heard the hoots and hollers coming from the stairs leading to what looked like a basement. Jonah tied his belt around her mouth, picked her up, and took out his gun. Motioning for us to move forward, we descended the steps that opened into a smoke-filled cavern with dim lighting. The sound of people cheering and cursing filled the air, but as we pushed our way through the sweaty crowd, the sounds of dogs snarling and yelping became prominent. There was a rusty scent in the air, and I kept my breathing shallow, too afraid to inhale the evil of the place. For a second I doubted what I was about to do, and in the next it was done. I fired my gun three times into the air, bringing both relative peace and utter chaos simultaneously. People were cowering on the floor, security guards were scurrying around looking for the threat. All the while we were calmly standing in the crowd, waiting for someone to recognize us.

  When LaVaas stepped toward me, I pointed my gun at him and demanded his name. I wanted to rip a chunk of flesh out of his smug face. “We don’t do business with scum like you,” I said, and we walked straight out of there. Jonah took care of the puppy until she was well enough to eat and stand on her own. Then he took her to a shelter in Bailey. He told them he found her next to the road. When he came back to the cabin, there was something wild in his eyes. And I knew my friend was thinking the same thing I did earlier. Just one round with the sick son of a bitch and he would never do it again.

  Reno eventually phoned us to ask why the deal didn’t go through. I told him I refused to do business with people like that, and if he wanted the deal, he’d have to do it himself. If that deal went through, I’d do everything in my power to sabotage the place. Reno told me he didn’t know that was the kind of operation LaVaas ran; otherwise, he wouldn’t be doing business with him either.

  Two days later LaVaas was conveniently raided and shut down. And by some mysterious force, his bar really did burn down. Now he runs a bar and a club on the same premises, and we loaned him the money to pay for the bar that I might or might not have burned down. Mobsters with good intentions don’t make friends easily, and it seems I’m just making trouble as far as I go. A bucket full of enemies and a handful of friends. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. I am who I am.

  * * *

  It’s just turned midnight, and the road leading up to the fairgrounds is swallowed in darkness. The only sources of light this far out of town are the bobbing headlights of the van. But all that is about to change as Mike steers the van into the open space of dirt serving as the parking lot for Benedict LaVaas’s business. The rusted remains of the old Ferris wheel look like a haunted skeleton in the midnight sky.

  It’s busy. Even in the dark I can see the outlines of the many cars parked outside. On the other side of the fence, it hums with life.

  Mike finds a parking spot close to the exit with a clear escape route, should things go bad like the last time we were here. He parks and looks at me with concern weighing down his brow. I nod my head and open my door, indicating that we are definitely doing this. I adjust the gun in the back of my jeans and look around for any guards or lookouts. If LaVaas is still fighting dogs, there are sure to be people keeping an eye out for cops. After the raid, he has to be very careful. I don’t see anybody around, but I can hear music playing from somewhere in the distance.

  Mike and Jonah climb out, and we walk in the direction of the many fires showing the way. Half-cut barrels filled with fire line the path up to the old ticket booth. A guy is taking entrance fees and stamping people’s hands. I pay for the three of us and look down at the purple clown stamp on my hand. Fucking peachy; if this is a circus, we are about to meet the ringmaster. I almost hope he sicks his lions on us. I’m pumped for a fight. It’s this damn gun. But I’m not stupid and I’m not reckless. I have Mike and Jonah to think of. I won’t put my friends in any danger that can be avoided.

  There are several tents pitched up on the old fairgrounds. A big white one where people are dancing with glow sticks and another where some people are sitting playing cards. Another has people sitting at the bar LaVaas build with Reno’s money. But no dog fights so far.

  We walk in the direction of the underground basement where we found the puppy last year, but there’s nothing there. Just a bunch of old empty cans and rubble. Off to the right is a big crowd huddled close to each other hollering and shouting. My stomach ices over, but I move forward faster anyway. Mike and Jonah do the same. When I finally break through the crowd, I stop short and stare at the spectacle in front of me. It’s a mud pit with two women wrestling in a cage. I look at Jonah and then at Mike and burst out laughing. Jonah’s is a slow build. First a chuckle until he is bent over and clutching his stomach from laughing too hard. Mike actually looks intrigued by the dirty mess. It’s definitely not what I was expecting to find when I saw the size of the crowd. But as far as I know, there’s no law against this, and the women are definitely not underage.

  I push back through the crowd to go find LaVaas, relieved that I wasn’t faced with the same situation as last year. I don’t think I would be able to let him live if he was still betting on dogs. On our way to the bar, two of LaVaas’s men flank us from each side and guide us to the tent where the guys were gambling earlier. LaVaas is sitting at a table with two other men and a small pit bull at his feet. The puppy lifts her head when we walk toward her master but loses interest quickly and curls up on top of his foot. She’s beautiful, her coat is a shiny brown, and her nose gleams a healthy reddish-brown in the dim light. She looks well cared for, but that’s the bitch of this whole set up—they feed their dogs well, groom them, train them, and then they throw it all away by putting them into a ring, with a dog that’s equally well cared for, equally well trained. The dogs are never the same after that. The puppy we found a couple of months ago was barely eight months old. She didn’t stand a chance. She was terrified, shy, and downright vicious. If Jonah hadn’t put that belt around her muzzle, he would’ve lost a finger trying to pick her up.

  LaVaas bends down and scratches be
tween her ears with a smug grin on his face. I wonder if it’s just for show or to piss me off. I’m tempted to shoot his yellowish, tobacco-stained teeth out. But instead I curl my fingers in and squeeze my fists tight while I shift my focus back to the dog. Her ears aren’t cut yet, so I don’t think he plans on fighting her, but then he can always do it later. I already know that Benedict LaVaas and I will never be best buds.

  “Runner, Mike, Jonah. Please take a seat. Would you like a drink?” LaVaas asks, looking at each of us in turn. We sit down in the three empty seats in front of him. I decline on the drink, not even a glass of water, mostly because I’m not sure they won’t try to drug me. I did cost a lot of these guys a toilet full of cash. Mike and Jonah do the same, you can never be too careful. “What can I do for you gentleman?” LaVaas asks, taking a mouthful of the amber liquid in his goblet.

  “Reno wants early payment,” I say. There’s no need to waste time with chitchat. Or explanations.

  “My payment isn’t due until next week. I don’t have the cash. I haven’t made arrangements,” LaVaas says, shrugging his shoulders like there’s nothing he can do about it now.

  He uses all the excuses we knew he’d use. I could probably empty his registers and count the cash out there. It looks like he is doing good business tonight.

  Movement on the other side of the tent catches my eye, and I see one of LaVaas’s men talking to a well-dressed middle-aged man. His suit jacket looks out of place among the other patrons of Benedict’s establishment. The man looks unhappy and seems to be looking for someone. When he turns around, my heart rate spikes. I recognize the Migelli enterprise emblem on his suit pocket immediately, even in the dim light. I’ve been avoiding that mark for six years, but being so close to Bailey, we risk running into them from time to time, and I’m sure I’ve seen this guy’s face before. Is LaVaas in business with Daniel Migelli? That could explain the sudden boom in business. Does Reno know? That would explain the tag. I have to get out of here. I don’t need a meet-and-greet with Migelli’s men, and I have to find out what Reno knows about this, right now.