Page 96 of Whistleblower

“What’s this?” Linc points to the coils of cables and the silver VHS player lying on my living room floor.

“My old VCR.”

“I see that, Bambi. Isn’t a VCR a little old school?”

“I was trying to watch an old movie for my birthday, but my tape is stuck and it won’t play.”

“Ah,” he says, setting down his coffee mug on the table and sitting on the floor amidst the cords. Linc may have a unique job but he’s still a man, nonetheless. A broken electronic is basically a siren’s call, singing fix me, fix me. “Is this a dirty birthday movie?” He glances at me with a grin.

“The furthest from it,” I reply. “I watch it every year. It’s a video my mom made for me before she died. I was only two when she recorded it. She knew when I grew up, I’d like to know more about her. She spends an hour on the tape just telling me about all her favorite things, about my grandparents, how she met my dad. She apologizes that she was too sick and couldn’t be here. That’s why I like to be alone on my birthday… I spend it with my mom.”

“If I would’ve known, I wouldn’t have—”

“No.” I nearly shout from the kitchen, again—unnecessarily. My kitchen and living room are basically one open space. “I am so glad you surprised me yesterday. And anyway, the tape has been stuck for about four years, but this is the first year it wouldn’t even play. Had you not shown up, I would’ve truly been by myself.”

Linc balls up a fist and I see everything play out in slow motion. “Usually these just need a good pound when they get stuck.” His words come out garbled as I slam my mug on the counter.

“Linc! Wait! That’s my only copy—”

His fist lands with a hard thud on top of the player and my heart stops. The VCR whirs and grumbles to life. The obnoxious clicking and clanking inside the machine makes my stomach churn. Oh no. I picture the tape tangling and unraveling inside the out-of-date VHS player, my only memory of my mom, being ripped to shreds. Goosebumps bubble to the surface of my skin and I bury my face in my hands to hide my look of horror. I know it’s not Linc’s fault, but fuck! Why?

Why do men always think the solution is to slam their fists into things? I could’ve had it carefully disassembled by a professional and saved my only remaining memory—

“Bambi?”

I peek between my hands to see Linc standing right in front of me, holding out a fully intact VHS tape. “It’s rewound.” He kisses my cheek nonchalantly before he makes his way to the coffee pot to refill his cup.

I stand, mouth ajar, but speechless as I hold the tape tightly against my chest. It’s the first time I’ve touched it in nearly half a decade.

“If it’s that important, maybe you should make a backup,” Linc says. “The compound has a digital lab that could convert that in a heartbeat. Do you want my help?”

His question sinks to the bottom of my heart. Linc is completely unaware of its weight. It’s been the longest year of my life. I don’t have my mom, my dad, or my dog. I learned that my friends were all fair-weather, and not even a doctorate in business could give me job security. All I’ve known for so long is anxiety, stress, and betrayal. I’ve made peace with being alone. I’m learning to make peace with fear. But now… Am I ready for it to change? Do I want his help? I know how to convert a VHS tape and I would’ve, long ago, if I could’ve freed the damn thing myself.

I turn around to see Linc handing me a paper towel to wipe up where my coffee spilled on the clean white granite. His light blue eyes are gleaming, so sweet and tender.

The killer has the kindest eyes when he looks at me.

I nod. “I’d love your help.”

“Okay, then. I’ll get it done.” When I don’t move fast enough in taking the paper towel, Linc proceeds to clean up my coffee spill on his own accord.

“Hey, Linc?”

“Yes?”

“Um…maybe you can also help me move some clothes, and my pillow, and my toothbrush to your place, for a little while… Just to see?”

He smiles, pulling me against his muscular chest. “Maybe some shoes, too.”

“Good thinking.” With a sly smile on my face, I add, “And maybe we go shopping for some breakfast foods, just for my benefit? I promise I won’t force cereal on you.”

He laughs. “Actually, cereal and oatmeal I’m okay with. The diner never served those.”

“And fruit?”

“I like fruit. Look at us—already more in common than we thought.” He swats my ass playfully on his way to the trash can.

Holy shit. Did I just agree to move in with Linc? I don’t even—

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