“That’s mine.”
An evil grin spread across his freckled face. “Then come and get it.”
“Come on, I’m obviously injured here. Just give it back.”
“Yeah, right! Finders keepers!”
“That’s not a thing!” I started to do a combination crab walk and butt scoot toward him, and he grabbed the other crutch and took off down the stairs. I yelled, “Come back here, you little shit!”
His maniacal laugh rang through the lobby. A moment later, I heard the front door slam, and I yelled, “This is why I hate children! You’re a bunch of fucking sociopaths!”
Fucking hell, that kid was karma personified.
I slumped in a defeated heap on the second floor landing and tried to catch my breath. I’d hit my knees and an elbow when I fell, and they were throbbing. But all that mattered right now was that I’d just lost Reno’s Rolex, and I needed to get it back. The only way I could ever see him again was if I returned the watch, and even then the chances of him forgiving me were slim.
While I sat there sweating, I tried to come up with a plan. I’d seen that kid around the building a couple of times, so if I staked out the lobby he’d probably show up eventually. The only problem was how to catch him. There was no way I could chase him with my ankle like this, and it wasn’t like he’d come close enough for me to grab him.
Maybe I could pay someone to find the brat and retrieve the watch…but who’d be dumb enough to give it back to me, once they saw what they had? Even if they didn’t know it was platinum or a collector’s item, they’d see it was a Rolex, and if I was willing to pay to get it back, it obviously wasn’t a fake.
I swore under my breath and lightly bonked my head against the wall behind me. Then I waited around for a while to see if the kid came back. Maybe he had a curfew and would need to come up these stairs to get home.
Or maybe he was completely feral and being raised by wolves. That started to seem likely when there was still no sign of him an hour later.
Finally, the need to pee set me in motion. I shifted around, sat on one of the steps, and started a reverse butt-scoot up that last flight of stairs. There was no way I was getting the watch back tonight, that much was clear. Might as well get some rest and try to regroup.
It took a while, but eventually my one crutch and I reached my apartment. I let myself in with my key, then deadbolted the door behind me and put the security chain in place. “Home sweet shithole,” I muttered, as I limped to the bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later, I fell into bed freshly showered, wearing a clean T-shirt and a pair of pajama pants. I’d taken a bunch of ibuprofen, but it didn’t eliminate the pain in my knees, elbow, or ankle. I was so tired that I almost fell asleep anyway—until the straight couple next door started having sex.
He kept shouting, “Yeah, baby, yeah,” like he was Austin Powers or some shit, while she started screaming, “Yes, Daddy!” That scintillating bit of dialog was punctuated by their headboard slamming into the wall so hard that I half-expected them to come crashing through it.
Not to be outdone, the people across the hall started blasting some truly vile death metal. As loud as it was, it didn’t manage to drown out the fornicators.
I pulled the pillow over my head and summed it all up with three words. “Fuck my life.”
5
Jack
I spent the next week trying to catch the mini weasel who had Reno’s watch. I’d learned three things about the kid—his nickname was Buzz, he lived somewhere on the fourth floor, and he was Satan incarnate, though to be fair, the third thing wasn’t really news to me.
Since the stairs were so tough on my ankle, I decided to lie in wait and moved a chair onto the third floor landing. I almost caught the little jerk on day one, and that was when I discovered he was actually wearing the watch. Lord knew how he kept it from sliding off his scrawny wrist. I also couldn’t figure out why no one had mugged him for it in this shitty neighborhood, though everyone probably assumed it was a fake.
He'd slipped out of my grasp like a greased pig when I lunged at him. Then he’d grinned and flipped me off with both hands before turning and running back down the stairs. I didn’t try running after him because I knew I had zero chance of catching him, with or without a bum ankle. He was a fast little shit.
The next day, the building manager asked me what I was doing when he saw me camped out on the landing. I was dumb enough to tell him I was waiting for an eleven-year-old boy, and another tenant overheard me. Now the whole building thought I was a pervert. It was surprising they hadn’t all banded together and come after me with pitch forks and torches. I was definitely moving, right after I got that watch back.
After a couple more days, I was thoroughly demoralized. The kid had discovered some way of getting to his apartment without using the stairs. I knew that because I kept hearing his hyena-like laughter echoing down from the fourth floor, taunting me.
That was when I decided I needed some help, so I hired the drunk guy who hung out in the lobby to watch for Buzz and call me if he spotted him. I didn’t think he had the wherewithal to mug the boy for the watch. Apparently he didn’t have it together enough to call me, either, so that went nowhere.
On Friday, I sprawled out on my twin bed, stared at the big water stain on the ceiling for a while, and found myself wishing I was back at the pink Victorian. My time there had pretty much ruined me. I used to be okay on my own, more or less, but now I was sad and lonely.
That wasn’t okay, though. I had to get used to being by myself again. I’d be leaving this city sooner rather than later, and no matter where I landed next, I’d be all alone.
So, instead of texting JoJo and inviting myself over, I rolled out of bed and got dressed. I went with my second-best suit, since I’d ruined the best one the night I’d run from Reno. It was a nice marina blue number that wasn’t custom-made, but it had been tailored to fit well and I felt good in it.
Then I went into the bathroom and spent some time styling my hair, while I tried to decide on tonight’s objective. I didn’t want to go home with anyone, that was for damn sure. Mostly, I just wanted to sit in a clean, comfortable bar, eat pub food, and drink too much. I also wanted to be around people, without actually interacting with them. Basically, I wanted to be people-adjacent.