Page 10 of Encounter

Do a wrong thing in front ofhim...?

I didn’t want to think about that.

He glanced at me and smirked while I slowly nibbled my one pizza slice, desperately trying not to make eye contact. After an excruciating pause, he spoke again. “Chast,” he said plainly, making me turn my head to him in surprise.

Mouth half open with the food inches away, I let out a quiet, unsure, “Huh?”

The mercenary sneered, looking at me like I was completely clueless and stupid. “My name,” he clarified. A little flustered by the way his voice softened as he said that, I didn’t know what else to do but to nod, turning away again to take another bite of the pizza.

What a weird sounding name. I wonder how it’s spelled. Like saying L'Chaim?

“Good to know,” I murmured.

It still felt surreal, sitting in my house with an actual, real-life killer. But at least I wasn’t alone... If I had to listen to the sounds of this big, empty house all by myself, my paranoia would have surely driven me to the brink in no time.

“Can’t believe you got outta there with nothing but a few bruises.” To my surprise, he continued in the small-talk, even if it was nothing but boredom making him. “Skinny kid like you—” He grinned as he glanced down. “Surprised you didn’t get broken in half.”

Anybody else might have taken it as an insult, but I was well aware of my weaknesses already. Ever since I could remember, I was the skinniest boy in class—always brunt of stupid, cruel jokes. Now that I sat next to a man who looked like he couldactuallybreak me in half, it was a little more obvious. I wondered how it would be—to feel powerful and confident, to stand tall in body and spirit like that.

Hesitating about even saying it, I glanced at Chast. “I... Thanks for getting me out.”

“Got paid real good for it,” he admitted as he stretched back, straightening his arms alongside the backrest of the sofa with a tired sigh. “Was easy—they were useless pieces of shit, anyway. Ramirez hired the cheapest street trash he could find. Fuckin’ typical.” The way he talked about him, as if it was some public knowledge or some inside joke didn’t give me much to go on.

“Who... Whoisthis Ramirez? Some mobster?”Why am I even asking?! I regret this already...

As if Chast sensed that worry from my gaze, he shook his head with a chuckle. “He ain’t a mobster. There’s many more like him, and there are bigger fish to worry about in the pond, so forget ‘bout it. I really don’t think you want to know any details. Just be grateful they didn’t feel like havin’ their way with you. With those puppy eyes, you would’ve gotten much more attention if Ramirez bothered to hire some real scum. Or if hewasa mobster, for that matter...”

Nearly choking on the pizza, I wasn’t sure if I even heard him right. Staring at Chast and feeling my cheeks warm up.

Puppy eyes? Was that... supposed to be a dig, or a compliment?

Ugh, of course it wasn’t a compliment, you idiot.

When Chast stood—his boots in hand and stretching his neck with another groan—I blinked and instinctively moved away. Smile still lingering on his lips, he walked toward me. “Gonna kill some time in that fancy gym of yours. If someone’s trying to kill you, just shout my name,” he muttered jokingly before leaving.

Did Dad tell him about that, or did he just snoop around the house while I was asleep?

As his loud, heavy steps echoed through the room and eventually disappeared down the stairs to the basement gym, I sat there motionless, still thinking about that stupid, backhanded compliment.

I'm hopeless...

?

After finishing the pizza, I retreated to the only place that was truly mine. The only room in the house where I could somehow feel like all of the insanity of the past few days never occurred. A place where I managed to leave my anxiety and worries at the door to step in light and clean.

The light blue walls, cream curtains, and artistic, black and white concert photos on the walls were unchanged by what happened. Ever since Mom designed this room, it was sacred—made for me and the music. Deep, ageless, meticulously crafted, note by note.

Only me, sitting in front of the white piano in the middle, surrendering to the soothing melody that somehow came out and through my fingers. The keys were like waves I glided over—gentle but powerful. For once, I was in control.

Relief washed over me. It felt great and soothing and airy, up until I sensed someone’s presence behind me, revealed by a low hum.

Turning like someone walked up on me doing something entirely inappropriate, I stared at Chast as he leaned against the door frame, resting his arms crossed over his chest, towel hanging over his shoulder.

Judging by his expression, I probably looked more freaked out than I intended. “What? Are you gonna charge me for listenin’ in or somethin’?” He smirked. “Maybe you should. I mean, I’m no musical connoisseur butwow,” he said, raising his eyebrows. At first, I thought he was being sarcastic, but he looked genuinely impressed.

Blinking, I had to turn away from his deep eyes fixated on me. Halfway facing the piano and hoping my cheeks weren’t as red as they felt, I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I j-just didn’t hear you,” I mumbled. “You startled me.” Hesitantly, I glanced at him again.

Probably figuring the performance he eavesdropped on was over, Chast shifted on his feet and straightened his back, filling the entirety of the door frame with his robust torso. “I’ve been sittin’ around this house for over a day, and considerin’ no one’s coming to kill you, I gotta go home and sort some things out,” he said, rubbing the back of his head.

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