When he doesn’t move out of the way or elaborate, I continue. “Is she here?”
He shakes his head.
Big conversationalist, this one. “Do you know where she is?”
The man lifts his hands as if they’re empty and shrugs. I flinch at the guns. He’s nonchalant about them and doesn’t put them away either. I’m on the verge of peeing my pants over here. But I can’t piss in front of this man. I need to pussy up. He hasn’t shot me yet, so I’m good, right?
I fetch my phone from the diaper bag, but before I can dial, my daughter lifts her head from my shoulder, which causes the phone to slip out of my hand.
The man sticks out his boot, catches my phone on it, and manages to keep it from cracking on the floor.
Those are some killer skills. Literally.
“Catch.” He kicks the phone up as if it were a soccer ball, and I don’t fumble.
That earns me another one of his devastating smiles.
I dial Dina. She doesn’t pick up. I dial again, sweating now. Not only because it appears Dina is not at the apartment, but also because I’m unsure if something happened to her. TheCrossbow twins are very dangerous men. They’re in the same category as the man I’m hiding from.
While I redial Dina, the Crossbow man watches me like a bug. Honestly, I wonder how I end up crossing paths with men most people never meet. I’m an ordinary citizen. My mom is a nurse, and her mom was a nurse. Dad is a store manager. I’m an only child.
I miss them dearly.
I wish I were more organized like them, but I’m not. This is why Dina and I get along. I understand the chaos she thrives in. My aunt Umaria died an untimely death from pancreatic cancer, from a lifetime of drinking. But she lived and partied and traveled and saw more of the world than all the people in my entire small town combined. She was a wonderful aunt. One time, she came to a Christmas dinner with a truck full of presents for me. I’ll never forget that Christmas.
I miss her too.
Will I miss Dina? Because she’s not answering. “Okay, well, then, I’ll be going,” I tell the Crossbow man.
“Where are you going?” he asks.
“Good question.” I bite my lip. “I’ll figure it out on the way to the bus stop.”
“What did you need Dina for?”
“Babysitting.”
“I’m available.”
My gaze drifts to his weapons and lingers there as I try to make my point.
The man tucks the guns into his shoulder holsters and closes the door of the apartment behind him. “I’m just teasing you. I wouldn’t leave a child with me either.” He descends the steps.
I follow him. I mean, what else can I do? We’re going in the same direction. Hanna’s awake but quietly resting on myshoulder. She’s about nine months old and getting heavier, so my biceps strain.
The man waits for us on the ground floor. He pops a caramel candy into his mouth and offers me one.
“No, thank you.”
“I thought little girls love candy.”
“She’s too small for it.”
“I wasn’t talking about the baby.”
FULL STOP. IS HE FLIRTING? It’s a good thing I’m sweating and probably red in the face from the workout on the steps. Otherwise, the heat crawling up my cheeks would be more obvious.
“I’m messing with you,” he says.
