4
JOHNNY
My mind and my body are two separate entities.
My head is urging me to follow through with my plan—to deliver this package and get it out of my possession. But my body has me following this new girl out of the complex. I can’t get the two to agree on anything, even when my mind tries to tell my body that there will be consequences if I don’t get my job done in time.
Something visceral convinced my legs to move, to go after this girl who I don’t know. It wasn’t acreepy stalkerkind of thing. But more of ashe just got here and might get lostthing. A strange rush of protectiveness washed over me when I saw her leave the building and venture out into the world. I already got her to hate me, and that alone might be all the protection she needs, but what if something else happens? Why is my brain telling me it’s my responsibility?
If I just confirm she makes it to wherever she’s going, maybe that will be enough.
I keep a natural pace while maintaining some distance between us, walking in the complete opposite direction from where I should really be going. I glance down at my watch, verifying that my little detour won’t set me back too much.
The girl's chocolate brown hair falls down her mid-back, gently swaying with each step she takes. Her arms are crossed over her chest like she might be cold. Or like she's using it as some kind of barrier from the outside world.
That train of thought makes my protective urges rise even more. I don’t know her name, and yet I have an innate need to shield her from any danger.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
She pauses in front of Bram’s, a small, late-night diner, and peers at the menu posted on the large glass window. Personally, the little shop is one of my favorites; home of the best blueberry old-fashioned donuts around.
I want to go to her and tell her, to offer my local opinion on the cuisine and recommend something for her to eat. But I don’t. I can’t. Even if I found the courage to open my mouth and speak to her, she already hates me, and I don’t blame her one bit for that. I’m better off keeping my distance. We both are.
The girl turns to take a quick look behind her before moving inside. I take notice of her dark blue eyes and slightly rosy cheeks. She has a sort of delicate beauty about her that I can’t quite seem to fully comprehend. Without really knowing how or why, I realize she’s too good for this world.
With her decision to go into Bram’s, I make my move, too.
I need to act fast if I’m going to get this done.
I turn on my heel and head back the way I came, cutting through an alley to try to recover my lost time. The package digs at my waistband, and I use the shadows of the alley as an opportunity to adjust it. I was going to bring my backpack, but that would only make me seem more suspicious if someone spotted me.
I continue along until the sound of laughter catches in my ears. Drunken hilarity, actually. I’ve done this enough to pick up on certain things like that. And given the circumstances, I can’t afford to risk one of the idiots picking a fight with me. I’ve had that happen once in the past, and it didn’t fare well for either of us.
I creep out of the passage and go back to the main street, sighing at the extra time this will add to my journey. I check my watch again and do the math in my head. I’m going to be cutting it close—too close.
I weave my way down a path, shed a few minutes, only to get caught up and lose time again. A bead of sweat rolls down my spine. I pick up my pace in the most discreet way I can, but I'm running out of time. The only way I'm going to pull this off is if I step out of my safety zone.
I wait until there are minimal bystanders and break out into a jog, hoping like hell the package stays in place and no one notices the random dude in a hurry.
I round the corner and rush down the alley where I’ve made deliveries twice before.
The large door swings open when I arrive.
I glance down at my watch and wince at the same time when a dude bigger than Josey appears from the opening.
His fist meets my face a second later, causing everything to go black temporarily and my hat to go flying. “You’re late.”
By sixty seconds at most, I think to myself through the ringing in my head.
My watch hadjustticked over to a minute past when I entered the area. But shit like that doesn’t matter to these kinds of people. They live for the tiniest mistakes to fuel their incessant thirst for blood.
I wipe my nose on the back of my hand, a red stain left behind. It’s not a first, and this surely won’t be the last. Not while I’m tangled up in this mess with the Sharps. I made a stupid deal with them, and they’re going to make sure I live up to my end of the bargain.
I blink up at the guy.
He reaches forward and grabs the collar of my shirt, pulling me toward him. His nasty breath reeks of cigarettes and cheap booze. “Do you have it or not, kid?”
Instinctually, my brain defaults to some smart-ass comment, but I know better than to razz someone like this, especially when he’s already thrown a punch. Anything remotely out of line will be used as ammunition to fuel his twisted role of tough guy. Despite my best efforts, my expression still betrays me. I hate myself for the laugh that bubbles up and out of my chest. It’s one of my worst traits and happens at the worst fucking times.