My palms were full of sweat. I couldn't sit still. I rubbed my hands together and bounced the balls of my feet along the floorboards of the car. Damn, if I was standing, I'd be pacing, projecting to everyone the nerves that were coursing through my system. I wasn't worried about the deal about to go down. I was worried about Charlie.
Me and Charlie.
I thought knowing the truth would give me closure, stop me from measuring every girl to her. But her truth didn't set me free. Her truth weighed me down, sunk me deep under water, shackled to wrecked remnants of history on the bottom of the sea. It took time to learn how to brush away the everyday truth of this job. But when it hits home, when someone you love was subjected to the horror of violence, it guts you. It eats at your soul until you get lost in the darkness of it all.
Bren yanked open the passenger side door, snapping me from my thoughts. I needed to focus on him—on his hands, his forever bouncing eyes, his every tick, and everything around us. My firearm wasn't in the best place for me to get to. It was in an ankle holster, and my frame was way too big to maneuver around in the car.
"Whaaaatup, son?" he asked.
"Ima 'bout to make me some money. That's what's up,” I feigned my excitement. “But, bro...You gotta tell me exactly what you need. There ain't no going back after this."
Bren smiled wide and scratched at the back of his neck. "Dude, she's been screwing around with this one guy she texts every day." He shrugged and looked out the window, "She's trash. My mom picked her up off the streets and we grew up together. My mom died and left almost everything to that girl. It's all mine, supposed to be. She's just in the way now. I need her gone."
"Gone how? What’re you thinking?" I asked.
"Gone as in dead. I don't care how you do it," he said.
"You want her to suffer?" I asked coldly.
"No. Man, no. Shit, I didn't know you were that crazy," he laughed.
I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel. "I'm not saying I'm into that racket. But, you're the client. I could do her peacefully, like buy her a drink. Put something in it. Drive her body out to a place I know and dump it. But, bro...hey wait I got it..." I pulled out a small notepad and a pen and tossed it at him. "Write some shit down for me."
"Write what down?" he asked, confused.
"Where she hangs out. Where she works. Her address. What car she drives. I'm going to need to find her, right? Stuff that'll make it easy to kill her."
He wrote two pages full.
Dick. Bag.
"What about suffocation? I could get into her place while she's sleeping—"
"Dude, whatever. I don't need to know. I just need her dead,” Bren explained heartlessly. “Two weeks ago she dumped a shipment of pills into the trash, because she has no clue what I do right under her nose. Cost me a ton of money. She's just in the way."
"And you said five thousand? Yeah?"
He pulled out an envelope and tossed it into my lap. "Count it."
I took out the cash and thumbed through it. "Hey, Bren. I was meaning to ask you. You need a bigger clientele? I got a ton of people looking to score off me. Maybe we could make some serious cash together."
Bren bobbed his head. "Maybe. I'll see how it goes with the shop. With Sage out of the way, I can bring in more merchandise and clean more money."
"Yeah, bro. Get back to me on that," I said.
"All right. When do you think you're going to...do it?" he asked.
"I'll have her out of your hair in the next twenty-four hours. Go celebrate. Make sure you go big. Have people take pictures of you, so everyone sees you. Secure an alibi."
His face paled.
"No worries. You're not going to need it. But it's always good to have in case one of her family members reports her missing."
Bren barked out a laugh. "Ah. That girl doesn't have any family. We don't have to worry about anyone looking for her. Nobody'll even miss her."
∞
It was after midnight when I stumbled into my apartment, body heavy with fatigue. I headed straight for Charlie.
