Page 112 of Chalk Outline
“It’s called preparing myself for the worst. In our line of work, it’s not uncommon,” Mitch retorts, stubbing out the cigarette in the tray between their seats. “We’re in this together. I would do anything for both of you.”
“Okay, Miss Daisy.”
“I’m anything but. Buckle up, Mon Chéri. At least working for these criminals pays off. I’m learning new languages.” Mitch continues with something else he throws out of left field, and a burst of laughter catches in the back of my throat.
Braxton cocks his head at me expectantly. “What did he say?”
“Forget it,” I say. “I’m not going to translate.”
Mitch turns his head to me with an unhinged grin. “Romantic, isn’t it?”
It’ll be hard to get this image out of my mind. “It’s like walking in on your parents having sex.”
“Wait, I’m the mother in the metaphor?” Braxton’s face scrunches, seeming even more confused than he already was.
Mitch is beyond amused; he’s glowing. “Oh, I didn’t know you were part of the equation. But you can be anything you like.”
“Well… no. I-I was just… thinking hypothetically.”
“Right…”
“So, we have no clue where Larson went?” I redirect the two love birds to the main issue. The only thought that crosses my mind is that if I were in his position, I’d have two choices: lay low or find Winona.
“No, he went off the grid.”
“How can they do this and sleep at night?” Mitch shakes his head as he backs out of the parking spot. I know it’s hard for them to wrap their minds around it, even after all this time.
“I asked Third Eye how he could hurt little kids who did nothing wrong. You know what he said?”
His eyes flick to the rearview mirror, staring at me. “What…?”
“Easy. Then he licked the knife that was covered in my blood. It’s called business. I saw nothing but an evil grin that belonged to a vacant man with no soul. Some people are just capable of cruelty beyond what you can imagine. They don’t let their emotions dictate their actions. If they have any, sometimes it’s hard to believe they even have them at all.”
Third Eye deserves a spectacular death before I get to the big boss, and I might have an idea how to make that happen.
We remain quiet for a while, passing through empty streets as darkness takes the form of an enemy.
This team means a lot to me. I’ve never had friends before. Winona is my best friend. But my friendship with these guys allows me to go back in time and feel like I’m a kid again. We have our own language, inside jokes, and we always have each other’s backs no matter what.
Mitch came from a broken home. An alcoholic father who beat his mother unconscious when Mitch was a kid, hearing her harrowing screams from his room. Later, his mom couldn’t take it anymore; she killed his dad and put a bullet in her head.
The news reported it as a gruesome tragedy.
Before Mitch could get swallowed into the system, Romina took him under her wing. I met Mitch once in Germany during my training; he was there for a week, then was transferred somewhere else. He was the same goofy, big-mouthed kid he is now—tall, lean, and the life of the party.
Braxton came from a large family of officers and soldiers. He had two options: join the military or law enforcement. Braxton was the exception; his dad understood that, so he didn’t push him to become something he’s not. He took his dad’s passing very hard and found comfort in helping others like him. One phone call from a police captain in Detroit named Izzy, who knew his father, led Braxton to work for Romina. It gave him a distraction and a sense of purpose.
They’re loyal and trustworthy—those qualities were rare where I came from.
Mitch attempts to shift the tense energy and lighten the mood by cranking up the volume, letting the soft music fill the cabin. “I didn’t want to say anything, but I dig the new mask. Your wife is getting a better version of you. Tattooed. Pierced. Scarred. Smoking hot killer.”
Winona bleeds her insides into her art, and I wanted that to be etched on my skin forever. To carry pieces of her. To have her story written on my skin like a sacred prophecy. Also, these two said I need to look tougher. I’m pretty sure I looked tough since the day I was born.
The piercings were a stupid bet I lost to Mitch. But I wasn’t the only one suffering—Mitch also lost a bet to Braxton and had to get a piercing. After that, I got hooked on the pain and kept going for a few more rounds.
“And the books you read…” Braxton fans his face, “Fucking filthy.”
The books are nothing new, but they don’t need to know that.
