Page 32 of Sighs By the Sea

“Yeah, easy for you to say. The two years are already up.” I chuckle a bit. “But listen, man, I heard something, and I wanted to warn you.”

“Warn me?”

“Someone has it out for you bad. 50 g’s bad.” I can read between the lines. Fifty thousand dollars to whomever eventually kills me.

“Any particular reason why? I went to jail just like everyone else.”

“No idea, dude. Axe offered it to me since I owe money to my bookie, but I turned it down. I like you, man. Just maybe buy a gun or something.”

“All right, Kip. Thanks, I guess,” I say. We both say our goodbyes, and I set the phone down. I stare at the dark screen as I process the information. If Kip had heard I was the rat, surely he would have just taken the job. No one likes people who inform. It’s a rule of the game.

Two thoughts quickly run through my head. The first is the more pressing; George is now in danger. After the shooting, I thought it wasn’t safe at our condo. But the police assured me they would increase their patrols and that the shooting was a one-time thing. An outlier. I remember that specifically because I'm an accountant. Nothing bothers me more than outliers. In statistics, it's something that we write off as unexplainable. A data point that doesn't follow the trend.

When dealing with the safety of my son, I don't like things that are unexplainable. Kip and Axe are in with gangs, they always have been. And the shooting was gang-related. At least that much I agree with the police on. Kip has unknowingly fixed my data point problem. The shooting wasn't an outlier. It was the trend. Meaning, it will happen again. The gangs are trying to fulfill the contract on my life. A part of me has always known that, but I've been fighting the truth. I don't want to send George away. I want to live this life we've had for the past two weeks. It's been busy and a little chaotic, but I've loved every second.

While I've been vigilant by making sure I'm not being followed and scanning the parking lot of our building before rushing inside, I now know it's not enough. Even with the nice alarm system I bought for the condo. It was the first time I used the credit card Penny gave me, but for George's safety, it was necessary.

My temples throb with the decisions I need to make. George's safety versus his stability. It's not a real decision at all, is it? $50,000 can motivate a lot of people to be stupid. There’s no way I can keep George with me. Being with me is now hazardous to his health, as much as it pains me to admit. I need to call my mother-in-law and fast.

The second thought is somehow even harder to do. I need to call Maggie but hesitate. Again, it’s something we shouldn’t talk about over the phone, but I’m not ready to see her again. The woman does things to me without even trying that I’m desperate to avoid. After our last…outing, I can't imagine getting shut down again. Can I resist the temptation to try?

My fist tightens. Yes.

For George, I can. Figuring this out is my top priority because until I do, living with my son isn't possible. And that's what I want. My family. My son. Together every night without threat of injury or prison. Working with Maggie is a must. She's a damn good detective and I know she can help me. She already has, and even with the strange way we left things, I know she's working my case behind the scenes.

With Miranda’s shouts coming from the front room, I’m pulled from my own thoughts. I know she and Roger are arguing again. I run a hand through my hair and stand up.

If they would just sleep together…ew…they probably wouldn’t fight as much. Still, I get up and stride into the main office again, hoping to prevent bloodshed before I look for flights to Oregon. It will be the second time I use the credit card Tommy provided. But first class with my son sounds like the perfect way to send him off in style.

Maggie

Two days later, I’m hunched over my computer, clicking my mouse as rapidly as I can manage. It’s been a long, boring day at the police station, and I’m desperate for some action.

“Oh, come on, EpicTaco! You gotta heal me as soon as the power-up fades!” I scream just as my phone buzzes on the desk. Without looking at the caller ID, I put it on speaker.

“Yeah?” I snap.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” Grayson’s voice comes over the line, and my face snaps to the screen. It’s a video call. I lunge forward and hold the phone up.

“Erm, no. Not at all.” Just as I say it, the enemy blows me up with a power-up, and my team loses. “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath.

“You sure?” His eyes are prodding my face.

“What do you need, Grayson?” My heart skips a beat at the sound of his voice. Whenever he’s around, I tend to lose focus on important things, like my job and how time with him is jeopardizing it.

“Tilly told me you called.”

“Ah yes. Did she also tell you she hates me?”

“Yes.” His blunt response brings a smile to my face.

I lean back in my pink chair, which squeaks with the movement. “And?”

“I have information.”

I perk up, my mind racing through possibilities. I’ve hit a stalemate on his case and am desperate for any sort of lead. The tension between what I should feel and what I do feel stretches tight inside me.

“So can I come see you?” he asks, cutting through my thoughts.

---