Yes, I could see how that would be worrisome to him. At the same time, he’d known the risks. Better than I did even.
This also still didn’t tell me why he was bringing this all up now. Months after my run in with Liam.
He took a deep breath and slid a square piece of paper to me. “I have a job for you.”
Puzzled, I took the post-it size piece of paper and glanced at the name and address on it.
Sunshine Diner
9:00 p.m. tomorrow night, third booth from the back.
Don’t be late.
I didn’t get it. What was all the seriousness about if this was just another job? There had to be something more.
“This run will require a little bit more from you. It’s not the average pick up and drop off.”
“What does that mean?”
He was silent, his face creased with lines. He seemed almost worried, which was a little scary. Jerry didn’t get worried. For the most part he was as calm and steady as a rock. Nothing fazed him.
“You’ll see when you get there.”
His face dropped back into its normal impassive expression. I knew I wasn’t going to get anything else out of him.
I stood as he turned back to his papers. Hesitating in front of him, I finally left when he didn’t look back up.
It was almost eleven p.m. so the meeting wasn’t until tomorrow night. At this point, there was no use worrying about this mysterious job and what it would entail until tomorrow.
Why did I have a sinking feeling this job had something to do with the vampires?
Chapter Three
Pressing lightly on the bike’s brake, I turned into the parking lot, barely noticing the sharp jolt as my wheels fought for purchase on the broken pavement. There were so many cracks in the asphalt that it was practically gravel at this point. Weeds, some as high as my knee, had burrowed through those cracks and made the already treacherous ground even harder to navigate. Luckily, my apartment’s parking lot was about the size of a postage stamp.
I threw one leg over the seat and stepped down while the bike was still moving, bringing the bike and myself to a gradual halt.
I rented a second story walk up in an old duplex, just outside of campus, that looked like it was built around the turn of the nineteenth century. The cement stoop to the downstairs apartments had settled since its creation and drooped forward and to the side like a drunken sailor on shore leave. The rest of the foundation had settled in the opposite direction at some point because the brick next to the windows looked like they were slightly off kilter.
Knowing the owners like I did, I doubted they’d mitigated any of the settling and it was likely this place was one crazy party away from folding like a stack of cards.
The wooden stairs leading up to my place were no less rickety and rundown than the rest of the building. Anytime anything larger than a cat used them, they shook and trembled like they were in the midst of an earthquake.
It was a slum, made acceptable by the fact that they mostly rented to college students who planned to vacate within a year or two of renting. In the mind of a college student, who cared if the place wasn’t safe and the landlord took three months to get around to fixing the hot water heater. It was cheap and that was all that mattered.
It was also all I could afford right now. Sometimes you had to just deal with the hand you had been dealt.
Someone walked out of the downstairs apartment closest to the staircase. I paused, curious. I’d never met one of my neighbors before. They were usually out when I left for the night or fast asleep when I got home in the very early morning.
The man hesitated when he caught sight of me at the bottom of the stairs, preparing to pick up my bike. He was taller than me, probably over six feet by an inch or two. He had shoulder length copper, brown hair and a face that was all hard plains. His nose was a little too long and his mouth a little too thin, but those imperfections helped give his face character and break it out of the too pretty mold it would have fallen into otherwise.
He gave me a nod before continuing to a truck parked in the lot that I just now realized was full of furniture and boxes.
I watched for a moment. Was I getting new neighbors? How had I missed the last ones moving out?
It was possible they’d moved out during the day when I slept or while I was away on a run. To tell you the truth, I’d just kind of assumed both apartments on the lower floor were empty since the occupants were so quiet. From my experience, students aren’t normally silent on the weekends. Where were the parties and general shenanigans that typically happened when you’re young and dumb?
I shouldered my bike and headed upstairs, not wanting to get involved in small talk with my new neighbor. If he was anything like the last ones I’d had, I probably wouldn’t even know he was there.
