Jada reaches Eamon, just as he pulls the case onto his shoulder. Maneuvering around her, he heads out the red door of the bar. I have trouble holding in the chuckle at Jada’s pitifulattempt to get our boss to notice her. If looks could kill, she’d have me mounted on the wall.
Brittany pops up and asks me to bring over five Smithwick’s to table six, so she can use the restroom. Just as I’m rounding the counter, Jada materializes before me. I try to balance the tray while avoiding her, but she moves into my path, intentionally bumping my arm that carries the drinks.
“Oh fuck!” Half of the beers tip over, drowning me in amber colored ale. My clothes are saturated, all thanks to her. Regardless of the icy liquid, my face swells with red-hot frustration.
Jada knowingly puts a hand to her mouth and gasps for dramatic flair. “Oops! How clumsy of me. I didn’t see you there.” She continues to the back, not sparing me a second thought.
Brittany tosses a bar towel to me and I begin dabbing at my clothes the best I’m able. Screw her, if she thinks that will make me leave. I’m finishing MY shift. Dax, like some sort of mind reader, has kept a healthy distance from me. He doesn’t have to speak for me to know. I see it in his eyes. It’s not a sympathetic stare… no. It’s a look that tells me,you got this. I’m right here.Dax reminds me of a watchdog. The capacity to delete the nuisance animal that brazenly walks the fence line of what he’s meant to guard, however he hushes the internal beast, the one I know lies within him. Each new interaction with this man has been unexpected, but I’ve never felt safer. Somehow, he coaxes me to step out of my daily comfort zone. I’m becoming more assertive, even if it means my choices don’t come with guarantees. He has me distracted… unable to help stealing glances at his beautifully-shadowed face. When our gaze meets across the room, it causes every muscle in my body to tighten. I’m reminded of what he did to me in the bathroom. The secrets we share and all the ways he’s made me succumb. I have no apologies for any of it.
That night, after a well-deserved shower and finally being able to remove the custom toy Dax reinserted, I’m able to focus on what I found earlier. My imagination runs wild with the possibilities. What will I find on the SD card? Pulling a massive hoodie over my cleaned body, I climb into bed with my outmoded laptop and enough adrenaline to pull an all-nighter. My phone lights up next to me.
Dax the Friendly Stalker: You should leave it off.
I bite my top lip to keep from smiling. Of course he’s spying on me. Setting down the phone on the bed, I begin looking at all the different cavities on either side of the laptop. I need to figure out what’s on this thing! Turning over the tiny card in my hand, I begin sizing up the item to each port.
“Damnit! Which hole does it go in?!” Instantly, my phone vibrates.
Another text fromDax the Friendly Stalker.A series of emojis... a taco, a peach, and lips, followed by a shrugging man.
“Har, har!” I sneer to the obviously empty room.
Wait… he can hear me? I’m curious how many times he’s heard me moan from my vibrator, before I even knew of his presence. Shaking the thought from my mind, I bury the phone beneath my pillows, now, stubbornly determined to get the device to read without intervention. No cavity appears compatible. Nothing is the right size or it’s already occupied. God, I’m glad I didn’t just say that out loud. I have no doubtDax would climb through my window looking to put all those innuendos to the test.
With my nail, I push on one of the ports that has something thin and plastic within. The part pops out, a bigger version of the microSD card I found in the tarantula tank. The words read:San Disk Adapter. Of course… there wasn’t a place for the tiny card, it needed this converter thingy! I remove the smaller card within and slide in the found microSD card into the adapter. Like a glove, it clicks into the side of the computer. Nothing happens. Shit. Did I break something? Should I remove it and blow on it? It worked for the Sega cartridges.
I take a deep breath in and tell myself to be patient. Waiting for something to happen makes me want to get up and pace the length of my room or throw up. Probably both with an undertone of all consuming dread. I begin clicking around the desktop frantically, looking for any sign of a file or anything that I could have missed. Is it blank? Ruined from sitting in Thelma’s hide for years?! No. I can’t think like that. Something has to be on it. I inadvertently began nibbling at the skin on the side of my nailbed, all the while staring unwavering at the home screen. Was I about to learn something awful… like how my brother died or was this as unimportant as a compilation of Theo’s poetry? I can’t deal with more dead ends, especially when half the Murray family is ready to blame the Lombardis for Mary’s death! My stomach pitches and drops like a raging rapid, when I recall everything that’s come to light this week. I’m a Lombardi. The notorious Mafia family.
“Sssssss… Ouch!” I peer downward to find the side of my thumb now raw and bleeding from my incessant chewing. Frustrated, I grab the computer and give it a shake. “Argghh… give me something!”
Without warning, a notification pops up just above the taskbar. My hands begin to quake as I lower the laptop back ontothe bed. I dare not breathe for fear that the small window could vanish. Carefully, I use the track pad and right-click the bar on the bottom of the screen, selectingRead Removable Disk.A new window instantly appears, containing only one folder. Choosing the first document, I notice it’s named:“I’m Sorry.”I suck in air, desperate to fight the overwhelming clash of emotions. Hot tears of relief begin streaming down my cheeks. Holy shit. It’s from Theo. There’s actually something on it!
As much as I crave answers, a minor part of me is panicked. What if I don’t see my brother the same way anymore? I have a sinking feeling that everything is going to change after viewing this file. I suck in a deep breath and clickOpen.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-EIGHT
THEO
“Two Princes”
Three Years Ago
I’m mesmerized by the way flecks of light glide across the horizon. Waking the past week during the witching hour, has me reflecting on the way stock finds its way into Boston, under the cover of the night.
Cargo vessels drift along the harbor waters, burdened by their heavy load. While most of the city sleeps, some work thankless jobs. Laboring for the greater good and never being able to share their plight of traffic jams and unnecessarily long lines, all for a regular to get them through their day.
I’m Disconnected. No more than a ghost above the city in a haze of my own subconscious. Obviously, I wasn't a specter, but I’m sure I’d give someone a fright if they happened to look upon the twentieth floor, finding me stark naked before the massive window. The cloud of smoke around me was meant to be more of a stress relief than a health risk, but nothing I seem to do lately falls into my better judgment. The more I draw from thisvape pen, the more it takes on the taste of burnt toast, so at odds with its cinnamon bun claim. Nothing could compare to the swirled pastries my dad would make with my little sister.
I grew up in this city, although that seems to be the only consistent thing about my childhood. My family moved around a lot. Changing addresses meant changing schools. Hell, my folks even revamped our last name at one point. Their behavior was as erratic as the weather in Boston, yet because of them, I am who I am. Strong-willed and inquisitive to a fault. Always questioning everything. Simply put, I can’t accept the direction of my sail until I understand where the breeze is coming from. Even before a storm rolls in, I can feel it. It makes my bones sore.
Currently, I can’t sleep. Tormented by my mind and body. No dark looming clouds, yet I can sense a force on the horizon.
“Hey,” calls a deep-groggy voice behind me. “Come back to bed.”
I let out the inhale of charred bread before tossing the vape pen back onto the dresser. My hand bats away the lingering mist, prior to making my way back to the bed. The chilled-satin sheets urge me toward the other warm body inside. It’s remarkable how a simple touch can ground me. Causing all my cares to instantly melt away. Arms wrap around me, as I press myself flush against my partner. Turning my gaze upward, I playfully lick across his stubbled cheek. Causing a devious grin to grow on his face. Swiftly, he moves putting me into a chokehold. Despite the lighthearted position, I still struggle to be released. Ultimately waving my free arm as a way of saying, “uncle.”
He kisses the top of my head and frees me. Instantly making me miss his tight embrace. Eamon leans back, basking in the red ambient light of the room, with a smug look of victory painted across his face.
