Page 16 of New Beginnings
“Have you found out any more information?”
“I thought I was supposed to call you when I did?”
“You were, but I’ve been anxious since I haven’t heard from you.”
“I’ve been hitting roadblocks. Massive roadblocks.”
“What roadblocks?”
“I can’t talk about it right now, but if you want to meet up later, I may have more information.”
“Alright, I’ll call you when I’m headed to your apartment.”
“Wait... what?” I asked with my eyes as big as saucers. “How the hell do you know where I live?”
He chuckled. “The same way I got your number. See you later, Rebel.”
As soon as he ended the call, I collapsed onto my couch, sinking into the plush cushions in my living room.
“Fucking, Caesar.”
“Was that him?” Rumi sat down in the chair beside me. “The man with the gun?”
“I thought I said give me a minute.”
“You did. But when do I ever listen to you?”
“Never. Look, I see the concern on your face, Rumi. Stop worrying. You’re just as bad as mother.”
Even though she smiled, I knew my request had landed on deaf ears. She didn’t need to worry. J.D. was still madly in love with his dead wife, so my heart was definitely safe, and I believed my life was too. After I helped him find out the truth, he’d go back to his life, and I’d go back to mine.
ONE STEP CLOSER
J.D. Stevens
I was in a weird headspace which was probably magnified by not being able to sleep. The nightmares had become even more vivid, haunting me every night. But now Rebel had appeared in them.
Strangely enough, she brought a sense of peace to me even during the nightmares. Her presence comforted me. Maybe it was because she was helping me get the answers, I needed to help them rest. She was helping me get the answers, I needed to move on with my life.
“Has he said anything?” I asked.
We were on our way to the clubhouse’s basement. While on the phone with Rebel, Caesar had walked into my office to let me know he had tracked down the daycare owner.
“Nah. Just that he doesn’t know what I’m talking about.”
As I opened the door to the basement and descended the stairs, an overpowering stench of urine and vomit assaulted my senses.
When I flicked the light switch on, the room instantly transformed from a dank, dark space to one illuminated by the bright, fluorescent lights on the ceiling. Throughout my time in this world, I had learned certain things that helped with interrogations. Fluorescent lighting and tight spaces like this room, increased a person’s anxiety about the unknown. After sitting in the dark and not knowing what was going to happen, he should be ready to speak in no time.
I watched as the man, who was bound to a chair by gray duct tape in the center of the room, narrowed his eyes. And when they adjusted to the bright lights, they widened.
“You remember me?”
I wasted no time asking questions because I needed the answers, and I knew he had some of them. As I approached the man, his eyes darted towards the president’s patch on my cut, then locked onto my face.
“I don’t know anything! I swear!”
“Do you remember who I am?”
