The service I offered was simple. You wanted a guy beaten up, I was your guy. I caught the guy at just the right time, picked a fight with him, and won. Always won.
She told me what they were wearing and how deep they’d have to dig, too.
“I don’t know what he is going to do to you, but I can’t say you don’t deserve and I don’t think anyone is going to judge either of us when they find out what you did to him and why you made him run away.”
I felt the spirit in the room, and my eyes darted around, finally landing on a young man — he was the spitting image of Emma. They’re twins, I thought, dreading the strong connection they had established since birth.
His teeth chattered each time he opened his mouth attempting to speak. “T-T-Tha-That’s no-n-not m-m-me up th-th-th-ere. It-t-it’s going-g t-t-to kill y-y-you.”
Soaked from head-to-toe, I jumped up onto my feet, stood up in the knee-deep water, and looked out to the deeper water where the blue orb, looking much bigger than it had from up on the course, rested on top of the waves about 10 yards away from me.
She didn’t have the attentive gaze of someone checking up on us. No, there was something more aggressive about it. Something almost predatory.
“Sasha, if Mommy wasn’t home you’d be dead,” my sister whispered, before closing the door.
He listened to me chatter on for hours at a time, the self-important 4 year old that I was at the time, and never once showed so much as a disdainful or dismissive air. He listened with a fond smile on his full lips, though sometimes he seemed a bit sad even if the smile never left.
He shook his head and smiled. “I usually don’t eat what I cook – I feel like it isn’t up to my expectations. Besides, I had a double cheese burger an hour ago, I couldn’t help myself.”