Page 24 of In Death's Hands
“And you need to leave withhim?” asks Jo, pointing rather violently towards the larger-than-life man sitting in the corner and glaring at anything and anyone in a three-metre radius of me.
Right. That was part of the compromise. I could come to work as long as he was there to protect me. It was either him or Turan, but the one that would not be by my side would be the one going back to my place to settle things with my landlord and pack my stuff, and letting him rifle through my underwear drawer wasnotan option.
I would do it myself, but the thought of going back there makes me want to puke, so I graciously relented to their plan. After putting up a fight, of course; I wouldn’t want them thinking they can uproot my life and make decisions for me all willy-nilly.
I have no idea how Turan will handle my flat and escape the notice I’m supposed to give, but there’s only so much I can worry about. What’s claiming the very first spot on that overwhelminglist right now is a tiny woman currently walking through the door of the café turning my palms clammy.
“He’s only here to give me a ride,” I hiss, lying through my teeth at Joana, who’s still looking at Nathan like she would enjoy burying him in her back garden.
I let him have the pleasure of handling her and the interrogation I’m sure is coming his way as she marches to his table like a war general ready to take down the enemy. I have more pressing issues, like the very elegant, very intimidating, wrinkled woman walking my way. I gulp. “Hi, Mia.”
“Liv,” she says, her grey eyes roaming all over me and frowning at what she finds. “You said this was urgent.”
“Yes. Thank you for coming on such short notice.” I don’t remember the last time I was so nervous. This woman trusted me, believed in me. Letting her down now really doesn’t sit well with me. But what choice do I have? As far as I know, the people after me could very well come in here and decide that witness-free dark alleys are not that important so long as they take me out. I can’t put everyone here in danger. I gesture to a free table close by. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No,” she answers simply, never one to bother with the unnecessary. She gently settles on the wooden chair like it’s a throne and allows her eyes to take in every nook and cranny of the space around her. “I see you are taking good care of the place; there is no need for me to test it out further.”
Her words would once have sent me flying high enough to touch the clouds; now, they only birth a pang of guilt in my belly, hot enough to scar. She gave me a chance and kept trusting me and challenging me over the years. And now I’m abandoning her.
“Out with it, girl.”
I jump slightly and exhale the words weighing on my heart in a rush. “I need to take a leave of absence.”
Her eyes widen slightly, and her surprise is just another nail in my guilt-ridden coffin. “Is the handsome young man behind me the reason for this sudden request?”
It’s my turn to be surprised. When did she notice him? How could she know he has anything to do with anything? I also wouldn’t call Nathan young. Actually, I wouldn’t know how to describe him, although “handsome” seems like too weak an adjective for his sharp features and piercing eyes. He could be in his late twenties, maybe early thirties. It’s hard to say. But I guess for her, anyone below the age of sixty is young. At a reigning seventy-three, Mia is a business shark that isn’t remotely interested in swapping her tailored suit for a floured apron.
Those cunning eyes of hers hold a glint as she scoffs, “Oh, please. He hasn’t stopped looking at you except to scowl at anyone who comes close. I wasn’t born yesterday.”
I don’t know why her words make me blush. I know why he’s looking at me, and it definitely has nothing to do with the hot romance she has in mind. But I don’t correct her. Maybe it’s easier for her to think me a fool in love rather than know I’m running for my life. That thought sends a jolt of panic through my system. Iamrunning for my life. It only strengthens my resolve to solve this thing fast. “I have an opportunity to travel, and maybe find some answers for myself. Answers regarding…” Who wants to kill me. Why I survived in the first place. “Potential family I didn’t know I had.”
I feel dirty. Mia knows I grew up under state care, and although she’s a highly successful businesswoman, her family means everything to her. I saw that once when we were in a meeting and her daughter went into labour. She droppedeverything immediately and yelled at her driver to start the car and drive her to the hospital to support her child. So it’s not a surprise to see her entire face soften at my outrageous lie. I want to sink to my knees and beg forgiveness for giving her hope. Hope for myself and my happiness. I won’t even think about what that lie is doing to my own heart, how the fact that it could never be true sinks its jagged teeth deep into the soft tissue that bleeds and bleeds without any hope of ever healing. I am alone. A wound I’ve been stapling for twenty years now, trying to keep myself together.
The rest of the meeting is a blur. She immediately understands, and although I can see her desire to know more, she doesn’t pry. I do explain quickly that Nathan is a private investigator who will help me look for that elusive extended family. Each word makes me fall deeper into a spiral of shame, but I don’t want him to get in trouble should anything happen to me.
My contract demands I give two weeks’ notice, but I pull Mia’s heart strings enough that she waives them graciously. I explain everything she needs to know about the state of the business, and the orders and agreements in process with various retailers. I also recommend Isaiah as a temporary replacement, should he accept. Joana would loathe the extra work and doesn’t have the time to care for this place, and the other baristas are too recent to be considered. Isaiah, with his steadiness and patience as well as the care he pours into everything he does, is the obvious choice.
By the time she hugs me goodbye—a first that leaves me teary-eyed—and I sit down in front of Nathan, my heart hurts. It pains me to leave them all behind. I may not have wanted to spend my life here, but it still doesn’t feel right to steal away intothe night without so much as a proper explanation. Or rather, without the truth.
“It’s the right thing to do,” he explains in a gentle voice that only makes me sink deeper. I don’t deserve his kindness. I keep wrecking people’s lives, and the one thing I was good at, I’ve just abandoned it like a bad piece of meat on the pavement.
I don’t answer, unable to find the words, and go back behind the counter to finish my shift and help the people I consider friends, despite what they may think about me, for what I hope isn’t the last time.
I feel like I have the world’s weight on my shoulders as Nathan opens his front door. He just opens it, no lock, no nothing. Either he doesn’t understand the concept of a key or he really trusts his building’s security. Or maybe being Death’s assistant provides some innate security system. Like hellhounds suddenly appear out of thin air to run off the fools who dared touch what belongs to Death.
“Is hell real?” The words are out of my mouth before I can process them, and frankly, Nathan looks as shocked by the question as I am. His shoulders tense up as he studies me intensely.
I almost don’t want him to answer. It’s been a long day, week… life.
After my shift ended at The Muddied Waters, I handed over my apron and emptied my locker while Jo spent half the time trying to convince me to change my mind and the other half making me promise that I’d be safe and have some fun. It was only after a terse warning to Nathan that she finally let me go and focused on closing the place for the night. Truth be told, I didn’t know she cared that much, and I’m really touched thinking that she may care about me at least half as much as I care about her. She’ll talk to Isaiah on my behalf, and thinking about the old man’s worried face when he hears everything makes my gut twist further. I just hope Jo can rein in her inclination for dramatics and manages to reassure him that I’ll be fine and won’t be gone long.
“In a manner of speaking,” Nathan answers, his eyes dancing away quickly. He points at one of the two closed doors at the back of the massive living space. “I’ll show you to your room.”
I guess that’s that, and indeed, he’s now moving towards the door. I absolutely do not observe his strides avidly, gaze jumping from his toned ass to his back to his arms. His hands suddenly tighten into fists, as if he somehow senses my eyes on him.
My feet move towards him of their own accord, and I find myself standing in the opened doorway to another jaw-dropping bedroom. I stay rooted to the spot as I take in the elegant canopy bed with cloud-like linen and curtains. The head is pushed against a black wall that offers a nice contrast against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the other two.
I could live in this room. Please, can I live in this room?
