Me:Coffee is decent, I’ll see you soon.
Johnny:I’m glad. You having a good time?
I shouldn’t have lied about being with Rosie. I should have told him a partial truth, that I was trying a new café. Or actually brought Rosie with me. The dishonesties add to the weight already pushing down on us.
Me:Yes, just missing you.
Johnny:Me too, always.
There’s a sort of comfort to having Johnny around. A safety. A sense of home no matter where I am. Without him, there’s this strange absence. Like part of me is missing. It’s not that I’m dependent on Johnny, but instead, we somehow make each other stronger. It’s difficult to wrap my head around and explain, but it’s the only thing I’ve ever been absolutely certain about.
Johnny is my person. And I am his.
I take a few more swallows of my drink and push the cup forward, dropping my napkin on top. Hopping off the stool, I grab the paper bag with the donut inside and make my way toward the door. Once I’m outside, I exhale, allowing the slightest release of tension from my body.
“Over here,” a person calls out from somewhere in the distance.
I turn toward the sound and take a few steps in that direction. A dark alley right behind Bane’s Café. Almost immediately, my thoughts are transported to my birthday. That dreadful night where everything was perfect, until it wasn’t. When Johnny’s life almost slipped completely away from me. When I had been convinced I lost him forever. When a large piece of me was tainted with the thirst for revenge and the need to protect Johnny at all costs.
Watching something terrible happen to someone you love will change you.
With a mind of their own, my feet inch closer to the darkness beyond. It consumes me completely and a strange sort of calm comes over me. The shade a welcomed friend, saying hello to that part of me I try like hell to keep hidden from the world.
I tiptoe further, my back against the brick wall, slithering quietly toward the entrance of the back of the café.
A box van starts its engine, seconds later pulling away, leaving two people behind.
I stay in the shadows, lurking for any sign or clue of what’s going on. Is this just an innocent delivery? Or something much more sinister?
“Net twenty thousand,” the smaller of the two says.
It’s Miller.
My eyes adjust, finally noticing the beanie resting on his head, and the silhouette of Luciano standing in front of him.
“Down ten percent.” Luciano seems disappointed. “We’ll have to put pressure on the north end if we’re going to recoup costs.”
“Who do you want to use?” Miller asks him.
“Viktor.”
Miller looks up from the clipboard in his hands and stares at Luciano. “Are you sure?”
Luciano nods stiffly. “Yes.”
“Okay, sir.” Miller’s voice cracks.
“Any word yet on what’s going on out west?”
“No, sir. Only that it’s a personal vendetta.”
“Leave it to Franklin to get distracted by such things.” Luciano lets out a breath.
And without meaning to, I suck one in. Did he just say what I think he did?
Out west? Franklin? As in the same Franklin we ran away from?
Personal vendetta.