Page 16 of Too Many Beds

He shouldn’t be alone, I thought. No one should be alone on a night like tonight. Not when the blood on his hands was still fresh and his mind was a labyrinth of unexplored horrors.

After my first kill, my old man beat the shit out of me for tracking blood on the carpet. Then he drank until he passed out, and I snuck out the upstairs window to go drink myself stupid at Avi’s house. Avi was the one who helped me through it. He’d helped me through a lot of things.

And then that dumb fucker fell into bed with Laurent, and things were never the same.

I shook the thought away. I was in no place to provide any comfort or wisdom to Jasper, and I had a feeling he’d be a sad drunk. I didn’t want to see him cry, so I turned and went to the room at the far end of the row.

The room was cramped, and the décor dated. There were two queen beds separated by a worn nightstand, and a TV that had seen better days. The air inside reeked of desperation and month-old cigarette smoke. Yet the sheets were clean when I pulled back the comforter and there were no signs of bedbugs, which was more than I could say for a lot of shitholes I’d stayed in. It wasn’t the fucking Ritz Carlton, but it’d do for a stopover.

Thunder growled outside, the storm growing closer. As I went to turn up the unit throwing dusty, musty air into theroom, I stole a glance outside. Sheets of rain sprayed the parking lot, one after another, while the wind howled. The next clap of thunder rattled the glass in the window, and I wondered just how much force it’d take to break it.

As angry as the sky seemed to be, this storm was nothing compared to the hurricanes we got down south. I was a boy when Katrina rolled through and drowned the whole city. It was because of that storm I’d gotten involved with the Fortiers to begin with. Big Boss Remy Fortier was one of the good ones. While the politicians in Washington threw around the blame, him and his people got to work. They had us hammering nails into new homes and set us up with jobs painting walls and running errands in no time. He was the first one who looked at me with my bruised knuckles and my bloody nose and saw potential. The Fortiers might’ve been gangsters with bloody hands, but they were the stopgap New Orleans needed.

And for a little while, I was one of them. I wassomebody.

Now I’m not, I thought, and let the thin curtain fall back into place.

I didn’t quite know what that meant yet, but I did know that if Avi and his guys ever caught up with me and Jasper, we’d be dead. I hoped I’d earned enough goodwill over the years that Avi would make it quick for Jasper. Me, I deserved whatever was coming.

Jasper

Icouldn’t sleep.

With a sigh, I turned around and looked at the empty bed just a few feet away. It was weird being in a room with two bedsand only occupying one. Lee and me should’ve stayed together. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so alone.

But I was alone. Shouldn’t Ifeelalone when I was alone?

I turned the other way and stared at the wall, but it felt too close. Almost like it was closing in. Trapped. I was trapped and couldn’t get out.

I sat up and took a deep breath, pressing my palm to my forehead. Outside, the storm raged. Thunder growled and lightning flashed like strobe lights. Rain pelted the glass, the walls, and the door.

Just like in the last room.

This was the third room I’d been in since we stopped at the motel, and I couldn’t sleep in any of them. Somewhere deep down, I knew my sleeplessness had nothing to do with the room and everything to do with the murder I’d committed.

Every time I almost got to sleep, my hands would start to itch. I’d jerk awake and yank them up to stare at them, expecting them to be covered in blood. There was no reason to expect that. I hadn’t gotten any of Laurent’s blood on me.

The scene replayed in my mind for the thousandth time in slow motion. My finger squeezed the trigger, and the gun barked. Unprepared for the kick, my hand jerked back, and a jolt of pain reverberated down my arm.

And then Laurent was on the ground in a widening pool of blood, his eyes open.

It’d happened so fast. I thought there would be more of a transition between being alive and being dead, but there wasn’t. There was alive, and there was dead and nothing in between. No transition. No time to call for help or to take it all back.

God, how did Lee do it? He had to have nerves of steel.I wish I were more like him.I always have.

The first time I saw Lee, I thought I’d seen a mirage. He looked like a movie star with his hair so perfect and his suitspotless. He was standing on the corner with a bunch of other suits, smoking and waiting next to Boss Fortier’s Benz, bleeding cool into the air. I remember he laughed, and it was like hearing the sound for the first time. I’ll never forget it, or the warm, bright feeling that spread through me after.

I was just some high school dropout back then. A kid with no prospects and no future. Somehow, I wound up being the assistant to Boss Fortier’s personal physician, Hamish Webster. Doc Webster taught me how to take out bullets, suture wounds, and set broken bones. I didn’t have a medical degree, but he said I was just as good.

For five long years, I apprenticed under Doc Webster, never expecting to be more than that.

Then one night, Avi brought Lee to me covered in blood. Doc was out of town with the boss, and I was the only one who could save him. My fingers had trembled so violently, I didn’t think I could do it.

Then Lee grabbed my hand, looked right at me, and said, “You can do this, Jasper. I got faith in you.”

The man had a fucking bullet in his gut and still found the strength to give me a pep talk.

After that, I was a complete goner. I didn’t fall head over heels for Lee so much as I tripped into an abyss. Him and me, we were like biscuits and jam, chicken and waffles, shrimp and grits. I never left his side if I could help it, and he didn’t seem to mind.

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