He’s no pretty boy; he’s a killer in a suit.
“I didn’t know you were here.” I clear my throat, stepping past him.
“I was going to knock at 7:29. You’re ahead of schedule.”
That makes me roll my eyes. “Let’s go–” I stop at the edge of the porch. Parked next to my silver Jaguar is a black SUV.
“Whose car is that?” It’s nice, with tented windows and shiny wheels.
“Mine.” He opens the passenger door for me, but I don’t move.
“Where did you get this?”
He looks at me in confusion.
“You didn’t steal it, did you?”
“Jesus Christ. Get in the car, Liv.”
I climb in, needing the grab handle to hoist myself up into the lifted vehicle because of my pencil skirt. The interior is just as luxurious, and it smells brand new.
“How did you afford this?”
“Did you assume that I’ve been unemployed all this time?”
“Well, no, I guess not, but I didn’t think the sanctuary paid that well.”
“So do you think I stole it? Or that I came about the funds illegally?” He asks in exasperation.
“I’m sorry, I guess I don’t know what to think. I don’t know anything about who you are, now.”
He sighs, throwing me slack like he always does. “When you’re first hired at the sanctuary, the pay does suck. But that’s because you get free housing and food. The little bit ofmoney you save can get you started, and for most guys, that’s enough. That’s all they need, so they move on. I stuck around, and the pay got better as my responsibilities increased, but I didn’t rely on it.
“I learned different trades, skills, and taught myself how to invest. I don’t have lawyer money,” he glances at me, “but I’m doing okay for myself.”
“I’m glad,” I whisper, only because I can’t get my throat to work. All I ever wanted was for him to be happy.
He jerks his head as if nodding is even too much to express his response. Silence falls over us, and I can’t stop my mind from wandering.
He was in prison for six years.
He’s been out for five…
“Were you ever going to reach out to me?”
“What?” He asks, lost in his thoughts also.
“If we didn’t run into each other at the sanctuary… Would you have ever tried to find me?”
Each rotation of the tires against the pavement grates my eardrums as the deafening pause grows longer. Louder.
Each breath that fills my lungs becomes painful until I can’t stand it.
“So, that’s a no,” I laugh humorlessly.
“It’s not a no,” he argues.
“Then what is it?!” I don’t know why I let my temper flare or why I keep beating the same dead horse. We were not meant to cross paths again, and it’s becoming clear.
