“Rocky?”
I press the phone to my ear and step back, blinking my eyes.
“You there? It says you answered. Can you hear me?”
“Uh-huh,” I say, shifting my feet inward.
“Why do you sound weird? You know what? Never mind. Did you make the delivery?”
“Which?” I say, with the chilled air causing my throat to tighten.
“I’ll take that as a no. Do I seriously have to do everything? You’re lucky you’re my brother or your ass would be at the bottom of the fucking lake like the last guy who screwed me.”
“Uh-huh,” I say again, looking around as my car and everything else blends more into the dark.
“Are you high again?” He lets out a frustrated sound. “Always fucking high. Look, I’m going to give you two more days. Your ass better do what I pay you to do and stop wasting away all day in that fucking dump trailer of yours.”
The line goes quiet and I flip to the images, my stomach knotting when I get to the third one. Zooming in, the next breath I take is like glass cutting at my throat. Rocky didn’t sound familiar, so I was hoping the guy whose phone I held was no one I knew. No one anyone could ever connect me to. I didn’t recognize the name because it’s not what I knew him by. When we were deployed together, I knew him by the name Sanchez.
He was one of the guys who stayed behind with me in the barracks that day . . . the day when I started to hate everything I became. I couldn’t remember anything that took place then either. I tried. Fuck, did I try. Every day I’ve been determined to piece together what went on in that room and why none of the guys who were there would come within a few feet of me afterward.
I woke up naked in my bunk bed, covered in cum and aching all over. I asked two of the people I once called friends what all went on the night before and they wouldn’t meet my eyes.One told me several times to leave it alone, and Rodriguez kept turning his back to me with a look of disgust on his face. “You really don’t belong here, you know that? Not sure someone like you belongs anywhere.”
Those words stuck with me. Did I hurt one of them? Did I take things too far? Nausea hits me and I start to sway. The phone nearly falls from my hand and I look at the picture again. He looks so different. His eyes are empty and look like they belong to a man who checked out mentally a long time ago.
If it’s his phone in my hand, then where the hell is he? This is his trailer and his brother thought it was him he was talking to, but I haven’t seen him once since I’ve woken up. Did I kill him? I lift my hand to my nose and the tinge of metal under my nails has my stomach recoiling. Why would I come here? How would I know to come here? I lost touch with those guys years ago. That deployment changed so much for me and for us.
Wiping the phone clean, I inch closer to the water and take out the battery before yanking out the sim card. Everything in my hands sinks into the pond within minutes of me letting it go.
I don’t know why I’m here or what led me back to someone from my past, but I do know I need to get the fuck out. I’ve already hung around for too long, and who knows who could show up soon. It sounds like he was involved with dangerous people. I don’t need to be anywhere near this place whenever they come looking for him. I wipe down everything I’ve touched, looking around one more time for any sign of a body before getting in my vehicle. Looking in the rearview mirror, my eyes focus on the trailer growing smaller as I drive away in a random direction to bury the bag I’m dying to have out of my sight as fast as I can.
I park near a large soybean field and mud joins the blood under my nails as I dig a small hole to drop the bag in. Standing up straight, I kick dirt forward until I no longer see any signs ofthe white plastic. The air is so thick around me on my way back to my car, and I slam my hands against the wheel, squeezing tears from my eyes before turning the engine over. The roaring sound doesn’t drown out the noise in my head for as long as I wish it would.
I’m only ten minutes from my house when my phone alerts me that my assistance is needed on the Be My Eyes app. It’s him. My heart thrums, and as I lift the phone, the light on the screen highlights the blood on my hands. Closing my eyes, I force a smile and answer the call.
“How can I be of service?”
“I . . . sorry . . . I normally wouldn’t contact you for this sort of thing, or any stranger for that matter, but neither my best friend nor my sister are answering.”
My lids break apart and my heart jumps into my throat at the sight unfolding on the small screen. He’s standing in front of a running shower in nothing but a towel that’s hanging super low on his hips. Droplets scatter along his pale skin and his eyes are frantic.
“It’s okay. I’m here for whatever you need, remember?”
“Yeah.” He lets out an awkward laugh, tucking wet honey-gold strands behind his ear. “I know it’s late, and I usually don’t shower this late, but I spent almost all day making myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I wanted to do something completely on my own.”
“Sounds like you did, so way to go.”
“Yeah.” His eyes bounce around and he grinds his teeth. “Eventually. I ate mayonnaise and jelly sandwiches first. Then took a bite into a chili crisp and peanut butter one right after.”
I stifle a laugh. “Nothing wrong with a little trial and error.”
“You only say that because you weren’t the one who had to chase them down with spoiled orange juice.”
I choke on a chuckle. “I’m sorry. You should have called me.” Would I have answered while sleepwalking or would I have been fully awake? Would he have heard someone screaming in the background? My teeth press so hard together I can almost feel them cracking.
“It’s okay. I figured out how to label everything so I don’t make the same mistake twice. Good thing I found that pack of rubber bands in the junk drawer. Two for the peanut butter and one for the mayonnaise. The jelly got three.”
“That’s a good system you have going.”
