I shouldn’t have said no to letting Tito buy me lunch, but I just couldn’t take more from him than he’s already given. I don’t deserve his generosity, especially when I've already taken advantage of him. All of this is making me feel like a horrible person, and maybe I am. How else can I explain the situation I’m trapped in?
A tear rolls down my cheek unannounced, and I quickly wipe it away, though no one is here to ask me what’s wrong if it remains. Just as I’m about to take a nap to avoid my thoughts and growing hunger, my phone begins to ring.
“Hello?” I answer the unknown number, knowing exactly who it is.
“Ms. Summers?” Agent Riggs' smooth cello-like voice resounds on the other line.
“That’s me.”
“It’s Riggs.”
“Yep.” I press, making sure to sound irritated, so he knows what an inconvenience he is in my life.
“Are you in position yet?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Are you awaiting the pick-up of the devices they’ll be using tonight?” No one has told me anything about this. As if messing up the devices wasn’t enough, now I have to steal them too? My chest tightens, and I grit my teeth, but I know this is my fault for not fully reading through the paperwork.
“I didn’t know this was a requirement of my role,” I replied stiffly.
“Now you do. We’ll need you to pick them up and drop them off at the location. I’ll text you. It’s a drop box with a passcode that changes every day. So make sure it’s there by morning, or else I’ve got to get you the new code.”
“You think he’s just going to scrap the things after they no longer work?”
“I don’t care what he does with them, as long as you get them. Make up an excuse for needing to take some, I don’t know. Just get it done.”
“What is this even for? I thought you didn’t want any of these devices to exist. Why the hell do you want them now?”
“That’s private FBI matters.”
“So, you can just use me when you want, but I don’t get to know why I’m doing these things?”
“No, you don’t. You’re contractually obliged to do what you’re told, and we won’t have a problem.” His tone changes to one that sounds more threatening.
“You promised you wouldn’t hurt the San Giovanni’s.” I blurt because, for some reason, the initial reaction I have is to protect them, to protect him.
“I did. But your contract states that if you fail to hold up your end of the deal, I can do what’s necessary to get this job done.”
I really need to hire a lawyer. I inhale deeply, blowing out my frustration through my mouth and pausing for another moment. It’s not just to calm me down, but to keep him on his toes because it’s the only control I have left.
“I’ll get one of each device. That's all.”
“By 5 a.m. tomorrow. In the drop box.”
“Got it.”
“Good luc—” I hang up before he can finish and shove my phone into the cup holder beside me. I’m screwed.
I lay back as far as my chair will recline with the junk in the backseat blocking its full range and cross my arms over my chest as I look up at the old gray ceiling. The notches in the fabric all tell a story. Had I owned this for its entire life, I think I’d like to reminisce about each one. I wonder if this will just be a notch in the fabric of my life one day.
The longer I stare, the heavy my eyes get, and pretty soon, I’m falling asleep. I know it as I’m growing less aware of myself, I should have set an alarm or done something to stay awake, so I can head back to my work, but I don’t. And my strength to try and find reasons for doing anything but sleeping seems unimportant to my tired brain.
I jump at a loud metal knocking, and my eyes fly open as I gasp and sit up. I forget where I am for a moment, but quickly realize when a flashlight is shining in my eyes that it's the beach security guard. He’s furrowing his brows and peppered mustache at me. I wave my hands before rolling down my window just enough for him to speak. I can smell his aftershave, and the ocean breeze seeps in through the crack before he’s even said a word.
“You got to move, girl.”
“Oh?” I look around for any signs that tell me how long parking is in this area, but I see none. “I thought this was free parking.”