Chapter Two: Haunted By The Past
Delphia
Those guys coming into the gas station were the least of my problems. I couldn’t care less. They were goofy anyway and didn’t bother me. It was closing time as my train of thought traveled back to the guy who came in. He was so… big. His chest was wide and high, his arms evenly thick, though they were covered with rippling muscle. He exuded a protective, dominant energy. He made my skin feel tingly all over… and not in a bad way.
I looked around me quickly and glanced out through the gas station window like always. It was my ritual. I had to check everything and make sure the external world was safe. I moved through to the bathrooms and turned my head sharply both right and left, checking to see if anyone was inside the stalls. I knocked on both the men’s and the women’s bathroom doors.
Vacant. Good. I walked back to the cash register and commenced counting the drawer and new floats. Once I’d done that, I called my boss to let him know.
“I’m going to swing past now before you close up, so you get home safe,” he responded.
“You know I’ll be fine, right?” I told him. He didn’t totally approve of me working the late shift and to be fair, I’d only worked three of them since the death of my brother Deon. My heart missed him every day. I hated knowing how he died and the way he suffered. The worst thing was, I knew the killer. A thick lump stayed trapped in my throat and held steady as I attempted to cough and release it.
“I’m still coming down. I live minutes away. Hang on.” He hung up, giving me no chance to argue further.
I dropped the float change into the till. I had a day off tomorrow, and I liked to make sure the till was set for the next day. I didn’t look forward to those days off because the demons of my mind kicked in, telling me I was next to be murdered.
Rubbing my tongue over my bottom lip, I picked up my bag from underneath the counter and rifled through it to make sure I had everything while I waited for my boss to come by. Two minutes later, white headlights swung into Holbeck Gas. My heart jumped inside my chest. I ran my fingers shakily over the emergency button just in case it wasn’t him. As soon as I saw the mop of curly brown hair and the protruding stomach, though, I knew it was my boss.
“Hey, Thomas, everything is all sewn up here. I’m ready,” I greeted him.
Thomas did a quick run-through and made sure everything was okay. “Looks pretty good. Any trouble?” he asked with a weird cough.
“Nah. Same old here. Pumping gas and a few guys talking shit, nothing new.”
“What did I say about that?” My boss snapped. He gave me free permission to hit the emergency button if there were any strange guys hanging around.
“I know. Another guy came in and made sure nothing was going down. I’m good.” I eyed him with a dismissive look. I didn’t want him to harp on about it. I wanted to get home.
My boss cocked his eyebrow. “Oh, someone else came in to save the day, did they?”
“Yep. Yep. Some guy from the Rebel Saints. Anyway, the troublemakers left. They were basically trying to get free gas, that’s all,” I relayed half-heartedly.
“The good old Rebel Saints. Good guys,” he replied cheerfully. “One of my friend’s sons did a workshop with them at their clubhouse. He said they were pretty good. Taught him a lot about bikes.”
The last thing I could handle was Thomas small-talking. My shower and couch were waiting for me. Second to the shower, I had a block of chocolate in my fridge waiting for me. Still, I gave him some semblance of a response. “Oh, really? That’s cool of them.”
It actually was and a little part of me opened to thinking about the muscled guy who came into the gas station earlier, acting as my protector.
Thomas walked me out to my bomb of a car. There wasn’t a single car in sight and it was muggy, like most nights in Holbeck. I slid into my car, driving home on autopilot with my brother on my mind again.
Did you suffer? Or was it quick?
Having your body parts chopped and dispersed into the water didn’t feel to me like it was a good ending to life. My mood shifted to depression as scenes from his funeral drifted back to me.
The dread of the phone call. My heart. The speed of it and the booming in my chest was almost louder than stereo speakers. By the time I got home, I felt like I wanted to collapse. This was a regular occurrence now, and I knew I should’ve called my parents to lean on them for support, but sometimes I just wallowed in it on my own.
I wanted to crawl into a deep hole and never come out. I made it inside my house and let my tears fall. My brother and I were close. We talked every other day. We did a lot together, but my brother had a hankering for a dangerous life. One that led to death. It was the same classic story…he mixed it up with the wrong crowd and wound up on the other side.
“You got the money from the cartel, and you did the drop. Now where’s my cut? I want my money, Deon. I want it now.” The rough voice of Rocky played like a movie through my mind. I’d listened to the tape a thousand times.
“I told you, I don’t have any money. The cartel hasn’t given me my cut yet. I don’t know what you’re crying about,” Deon had responded curtly.
Then a chuckle sounded that spelled death. “You think you can play with my money like that when I’m the one that gave you the leads? You promised me half, now you gotta deliver. I know you made good on that other deal, where’d you put the money?”
“It’s nowhere because I don’t have it. Chill. You’re being crazy. Look man, I don’t know why you can’t wait a few more weeks. What’s with you?” Deon sounded calm, but I knew better.
“Give me my money. If I don’t have my money next week, I'm coming for you.”