The Carvel woman looks over at him at the same time I do, and I see him holding my gun in his right hand.
“That’s mine.” I step over.
“Just holding it for you.” He doesn’t give it to me. He looks to her. “Get lost.”
“Whatever, I came out here to smoke, but…now, I think I have an interesting story to take home,” she smiles.
I reach for my gun from Soren, but he steps back slightly and prevents me from doing so.
“Do whatever you need to stay relevant,” he tells her calmly.
She rolls her eyes, and disappears down the alleyway too.
“Give me my gun,” I demand.
Soren shakes his head. “No. Not in the state you’re in, I’ll drop it off at your place.”
“What is your problem?” I ask him.
He scoffs. “My problem? What’s your problem? I know…okay, I know what just happened, but… what did you take, Carmine? You’re fucked up, and I meanmessedup. Look at you.”
I look down at myself. I’m covered in sweat, semen, alcohol… I reach down and try to get my boxers and pants fixed back up, only just barely managing to do so.
“None of your business.”
“Maybe not…but, other people think it’s theirs,” he tells me.
I lean against the brick wall and brush my fingers through my hair. My ears are starting to ring.
“Who? The Carvels? Pft.”
“A rival is a rival. You keep giving them the idea that you’re compromised, they’re going to take a chance,” he tells me.
I glare at him. My eyelids feel so heavy, and the high has turned into a low. Everything feels so…difficult. Moving. Breathing. Blinking.
Especially thinking.
“Not compromised,” I say.
Soren steps closer. “You are, and you need help. A watcher, at least. Our deal doesn’t have to just be about the extra guards. I can make sure no one gets to you while you’re…dealing with all this.”
“I’m fine,” I growl at him.
“You’re an idiot,” he huffs at me. “You’re gonna get yourself killed.” He grabs me by the front of my shirt. I feel a twitch in my pants.
I tilt my head back against the wall and close my eyes. “Don’t need anything.”
I’m not sure what happens next, because everything is foggy and dark. I’m so tired.
The next thing I remember, is the rolling of tires underneath me in a car, and then my bed.
4
Soren
Christmas Eve has never been widely celebrated in my family. Some years are happier than others, and occasionally my uncle even insists on having a special dinner. I never truly care what we do, as long as everyone is safe and our jobs get done.
That said, I didn’t think I’d be spending this Christmas Eve trailing Carmine Dresvanni around. Regardless, here I am.
