Thirty-Four
STONE
JULY
I'm sitting on the stone ledge of a massive ornate fountain that stands across from Memorial Hospital. It's a sweltering Philadelphia summer day, and I'm eating a cherry water ice, while random droplets of water from the fountain hit the back of my neck. Temporarily cooling me down.
I'm waiting for her.
It's become a ritual lately.
It's actually kind of pathetic that it's come to this. Skulking around in parks or across streets, but I need to do this. Sometimes I get a glimpse of her when she goes out for lunch. Sometimes I catch a peek after work. Once in a while she's with the asshole doctor from the juice bar, but I don't even let that bother me. I just need to put eyes on her, and I'll take it any way that I can get it.
Just because I fucked up doesn't mean I'm ever going to stop looking out for what's mine. And make no mistake about it–Ariana Carter is mine. She'll always be mine. I just wished she agreed.
Unfortunately, the night that I confronted Nate, Ariana overheard at least fifty percent of that conversation. That wasn't how I planned for her to find out. She knows that I've been lying to her for months. She knows that I've been sneaking behind their backs looking for money. Money that I planned on taking. She knows that Nate said he'd give it to me if I just left and never looked back.
But she doesn't know everything. At least I don't think she does. He has yet to admit that he was a heroin trafficker back in the day, and that he fell in love with the girlfriend of one of his partners. But even if she did hear parts of that, I suppose it doesn't matter.
That wasn't why her face was contorted into ugly tears when I opened that door and found her there.
It wasn't why she threw the few items of clothing I own out in the street.
It wasn't why Bottle growled and bit my calf as I desperately tried to plead my case.
It wasn't why she changed her number, so that now when I call her cell phone, all I get is a man with a thick Taiwanese accent.
God, I fucked up.
I can barely remember her voice anymore.
"You stick out here like a sore thumb. If you're trying to be inconspicuous you aren't doing a good job. You're big as shit."
It's Bucky.
As I figured, six months on the nose, he's found me.
Ready to collect.
And like the idiot I am, I'm within six feet of Ariana. Putting her in danger yet again. When will I learn.
"You stick out as well," I counter. "With that hot ass suit on in ninety-degree weather and that godawful pirate patch. Why don't you wear a pair of glasses like Stevie Wonder or Ray Charles. Have some class.
"This is a war injury, thank you very much, and I'm not blind. Wearing this patch is like wearing a badge of honor."
"An honor for pirates everywhere."
Bucky sits down next to me. I can tell that my words have annoyed him which will probably be the highlight of my day.
"I'm dying to see how things have panned out. Do you have my money?"
"No."
"Aww, that's unfortunate. I was actually routing for you. With the balls on you, I thought you might have figured something out,butI guess that left you with option number two. Were you able to make Miss Carter fall in love with you?"
"Yes."
A slimy grins spreads across his face.
