In truth, if it weren’t for the song-slinging hacker, I’d be just as lost as Cindel was. Except, he revealed something I don’t think he meant to. I spent a lot of time going over the information on the board. Decoding the songs he sent to Cindel. Reading between the lines. He intended for the songs to be eerie, sure, but behind the catchy chorus of The Spin Doctors- “Two Princes,” were buried truths. It took me being knocked out, strapped to a chair, and a daft redhead wielding a pointy thing to realize it, but… he wasn’t referring to Theo.
Mairead relished in my stories about interrogation tactics and stake outs. I schooled her on how I’ve handled numerous situations, all without a weapon, simply by knowing how to use my body to its advantage. She insisted using a blade has brought her faster and better results. It’s not often my trade gets messy, but she has some pretty intriguing tales herself. She resented her brother for trying to push her out of the family business when their mother died. Eamon probably thought he was saving her, then again, even the best intentions can’t prevent the butterfly from emerging from their chrysalis.
It felt nice to finally be able to say some of this shit out loud. Someone to understand. For some confounded reason, I even told her that I interrogated and disposed of two of the guys from the Murray crew. What is wrong with me? It’s like I have no filter when she’s present. More importantly, she was on board with proving Cindel and her parents' innocence. Mairead also managed to tame her father into submission. Patrick Murray is currently passed out on the couch alongside us, thanks to a sleeping pill she served him, under a slice of pepperoni. I made a mental note to never accept food from her again, in the future.
Just as I was about to ask her how well she knew Dax, I hear something. It’s coming from the hall. Footsteps cease before the doorway and a bewildered Cindel stands at the entrance of the room. Eamon and Dax, peer in from either side.
“What the Fuck?!”
It took well over two hours to explain to Cindel everything that transpired, including who I was to her. My stony heart crumbled within my chest by the way she regarded me. I know our friendship will never be seen in the same light, especially because I was placed into her life with intent. Her head nodded as she listened, but she wasn’t really there. She was withdrawn. Spending a majority of the time, staring at a broom and dustpan in the corner.
Cindel looks hollow and I am the cause. Eamon paces as I speak my truth. I’ve never cared for him but I know he’s calculating. Figuring out how to do all of this on his own. Dax, the enigma that he is… remains distant. Arms crossed over his chest, leaning against an adjacent wall, focus trained on Cindel.
It’s obvious he doesn’t want any harm to come to her, but what are his other motives? If my suspicions are right and he’s had a part all along… this whole plan could go to shit. Mairead sits on the arm of the couch where her father snores, despite the lengthy discussion taking place around him. How strong were those pills?
Cindel chimes in occasionally with, “how” or “why?” When she finally glances up from the unclean corner. She too has something to disclose. Unfortunately, it isn’t good news. The microSD card that she found, with evidence of her Uncle Nicholas meeting with accomplices, has been destroyed. I can’t believe it was right under our noses, all this time. Just when I think I’ve hit my limit, Cindel nonchalantly shares that she killed somebody!
Mairead jumps from her spot and shakes Cindel’s hand while congratulating her on, ‘popping her cherry.’ Eamon, chimes in, assuring me the situation has been handled by one of his best men. I still don’t trust him or any of his goons.
Cindel can’t even look at me, but at least the interaction with Mairead brought her out a little. Despite all the different personalities in one room, we formulate a plan. To bring in the only person who can provide a full account for the events. It wasn’t a great plan, but it was the best one we had. Cindel is going to invite her uncle for breakfast at Benny’s. Then, we have to dangle an enticing carrot to get him to come to this very location. I know Cindel was planning on just questioning him, maybe even scaring him. However, the other people in the room understand what needs to be done. We just don’t say it out loud.For Cindel’s sake. The logistics are messy and a lot of this is built on hopes and dreams, but without that microSD card, Nicholas will have to face the music.
With everyone in agreement and a temporary truce in place, we go our separate ways. I immediately go to Cindel’s side, only for her to lean into Dax. He may not be a danger to her, but I’ll be damned if I let her leave this place with him. The little prince seems to understand, encouraging her to accompany me home in a taxi. Her body migrates away from me on the ride home. The fare was fucking ludicrous too! The Murrays will be reimbursing me for kidnapping after hours!
When we arrive home, I see no sign of the asshat cop, so we go up to the apartment and I set the alarm. Cindel goes straight to her bedroom and shuts the door. She hasn’t spoken to me since we left the warehouse. She has every right to shut me out, I’ve been dishonest for years. I don’t think it matters that it was for her own protection, she has every right to hate me. Sometimes, I hate myself too.
I stand just before her closed door, hand raised in a fist, just short of knocking when I hear her voice. I’d bet anything she’s on the phone with Dax. That would be a very one-sided conversation since he can’t speak. I can’t believe I let him rope me into his juvenile games. Was the series of numbers even intentional or was it like going through the discount bin at the thrift store, hoping to find two matching shoes? If I know one thing… that jagged scar across his neck holds a story and I’m sure it’s not a pretty one. Even without the mask, I’m positive he’s hiding more.
Cindel is so much more than what she’s endured, she’s a survivor. In spite of that, hairline fractures are apparent. I fear they are slowly going to continue expanding until she crumbles to dust. I don’t know if I can mend her. It’s ironic how her well-being is now out of my hands. From the other side of thedoor, there’s music. It takes me a moment to realize the song. It’sSilverchair - “Tomorrow.”Dax has a knack for picking them. I stay and listen, the song playing out loud on her phone. A damn near perfect premonition.
Tomorrow will be hard to swallow, for everyone. With Officer Kent missing in action, it’s possible Nicholas still doesn’t know the evidence has been destroyed and Jada’s dead, so we plan to use that to our advantage. Earlier, Cindel composed a clever text to her uncle.
Cindel: “I can’t get ahold of my roommate, and I think someone is watching me! I’m scared. Can we meet at our usual place, tomorrow at noon? I found something.”
She’s so fucking smart. I can’t help but feel proud of the woman she’s grown into. Once the music stops, I jot down a note and leave it on the counter for Cindel to find in the morning. I grab a pair of boots by the front door, pull on a black hoodie, and leave the apartment for a midnight romp.
CHAPTER
FORTY-THREE
CINDEL
It rained most of the night. I’d blame the change in barometric pressure for my fretful sleep and raging headache, but I know that isn’t why. My skin crawled as if I couldn’t find comfort within my own body. I was questioning everything. What I’ve done. Who I am. How I am about to bring down the hammer on someone who I once considered family.
When we arrived home late last night, I closed myself in my room. I was so drained, I couldn’t fathom hearing Andrea try and explain herself further. Apparently, my uncle isn’t the only one who has been lying to me for years. My brain simply couldn’t process anymore. The entire time… our friendship has been a sham. Like one of those artificial, cardboard cakes in the window of the bakery. It looks nice, but the inside is void of what you actually desire. Sustenance. Something real. The icing on this metaphorically fucked up cake is, she was hired by my fucking parents! No wonder they always want to talk to her. Fuck me! Is anything as it seems?
I used the found earbud as a security blanket, keeping it in as I watched the rain beat against the window. Each waking hour,Dax played me a new song. At 1 a.m. it was:Ozzy Osbourne - “No More Tears,”2 a.m.:Depeche Mode - “Policy of Truth,”and the final song I recall was:Incubus - “Pardon Me,”right around 3 a.m. That song ripped me to shreds. I cried until I passed out. When I checked the time again, it was eight in the morning.
Music has always been a form of therapy for me. Whether these songs were meant as a distraction or a nudge of encouragement… I have this strange feeling that there are layers I have yet to discover.
The weather is dreary and the rain relentless. It make the notion of leaving my bed that much bigger of a challenge. The white tech rests beside me, upon a rumpled pillow. To think… just a little over a month ago, this rogue earbud presented itself to me. Everything before was so much less complicated.
As turbulent as things may currently seem, I’d rather be here, than continue navigating this life in the dark. Beingblissfully ignorantis an illusion, coveted by those who are wary of compassion. Surely, I’m not lacking there. I feel sorry for my uncle. Hell, I’m apologetic to ducks when I run out of peas. It’s hard to swallow that Nicholas would rather kill off the people in his life than be benevolent. Humanity would cease to exist without understanding… without change. Sure, it can be troublesome and also really fucking unclear at times… but without a little discomfort, we don’t grow. I believed I was stuck, up until recently. Forced to struggle based on someone else' s design. After everything… all the deception and lies… I’m just as guilty. You can’t know your true self if you constantly seek others' approval. Well… no more lying to myself! Pain is no stranger to me. I wouldn’t be who I am without it. Uneasiness is mandatory. Our time here is supposed to be messy. Filled with self-doubt and risks with no guarantees. I’ll never be able to goback to the person I once was… and you know what? I wouldn’t want to.
In a matter of hours, I’m expected to meet my uncle at the diner. Dropping the earbud into its charger, I force myself from the warmth of my bed, in search of headache relief. The pressure in my cranium, causing a head-splitting swell. Our apartment is still… no sign of Andrea. That’s when I find the note on the kitchen counter.
Cindel,
Had to run out & pick something up… I’ll see you at the meeting point.
