Jason
My thoughts trail to Kelsey as I wait on south street in a beige trench coat. I fold my turtleneck up closer to my face, trying to shield myself from the cold.
Maybe I deserve to be cold.
Angelo’s dark eyes meet my gaze as he emerges from the shadows of the alley. He is on time, as always.
Our exchange is silent, but weighted. We both stare into each other’s souls as we pass the bracelet and the cash back and forth. What was supposed to be another meaningless job, feel’s different. This one is heavy.
Our interaction is incredibly short, and he gives me a nod and slithers back out into the alley. We haven’t really spoken since he told me that him and Marley have been “having problems”. What a fucking waste of our money that wedding was. He said she knows something is up, and he has been coming home even later than usual.And then he blamed me for giving him the shit jobs.
I don’t really think making upwards of 50k a night is a “shit job”, but who am I to analyze another man’s words.
Once Angelo is out of sight, I pull out my phone to dial Rebecca. She is supposed to be on another job, but I have a feeling she is slithering about the bar that she has been frequenting. The one she can often find Angelo at.
Silly kids.
When she doesn’t answer, I sit on the curb and shoot her a text.
Hey, what’s up? Did you make it back from the museum okay?
No, long story. I’m decompressing at O’Neal’s.
That’s what I figured. How bad?
Bad. I slipped his wallet out of his pocket, but he noticed and grabbed my wrist. Tightly.
Fuck. U hurt?
No, but he let me take it anyway. I am dead meat.
I’m coming to O’Neals.
I stand up from the curb and tighten the collar of my coat around my neck. Damn, it’s fucking cold. Hailing a taxi, I leave the darkness of south street to go play therapist to my best employee.
Kelsey
I get home from Barnes and Noble and sit on the couch and cry. It is a Friday night, Jason is nowhere in sight -because we haven’t talked in days- and my social circle seems to be growing smaller and smaller.
My talk with Rebecca took the air out of my lungs, and I was surprised when I made it home from the car ride. I have no idea what to do, or how to handle the situation. Does anyone else have a drug dealer jewelry stealing boyfriend? I need some fucking advise.
Cherry meows and plops her furry white butt down next to me on the couch. I stroke her fur and turn on the TV, desperate for a distraction.
Instead of a distraction, I see Angelo’s wife Marley on the 6 o’ clock news outside of her and Angelo’s place.
“Someone stole my car. And my boyfriend is missing.” Marley is crying on TV next to a man in a suit who is holding a microphone out to her. The street is dark, but the light of the cameras is highlighting every drop of mascara running down her blushed cheeks.
Fuck, this is bad.
Without thinking, I dial Jason, desperate for some kind of explanation. When he doesn’t pick up, I have to remind myself that this probably isn’t real.
What if it’s staged, and Marley is on it too? Maybe they want to report her car stolen so they can collect the insurance money. Maybe my fucking boyfriend has the car.
My anxiety softens as I consider all of the options, most of them being that no one is missing and this is a money scheme. I still want to talk to Jason.
J, Can we talk? Just saw Marley on the news…
I sit on the couch and wait for an answer, hoping he will at least give me SOMETHING to let me know he is alive. I shouldn’t be so hung up on this, I should be out at the bar getting my flirt on. I mean, he’s a fucking criminal.
Love does silly things to you.
I fall asleep on the couch and wake up to a text 30 minutes later.
Yea, we need to talk. I’m coming back to the apartment tonight.
Comments