Page 18 of Tank
After much grunting and pausing, Will and Kevin managed to get him up the narrow stairs and into my apartment. They walked over to the bed and practically dropped him to the mattress on the floor. He landed with a thud and a muffled grunt and I was surprised when he didn’t go crashing all the way through the floor. Will bent at the waist, trying to catch his breath. Even in the dark room, I could see he’d broken out in a heavy sweat.
“I don’t know ‘bout leavin’ you here alone with him,” Kevin said sounding winded.
I shrugged, not offering up anything. I could take care of myself—not that they knew that—so, I wasn’t worried at all. Besides he would more than likely be out cold for the next few hours. I didn’t even let myself wonder about what would happen when he did wake.
They took my silence for what it was and headed out the door. I flipped the locks behind them then flopped down in the chair. It so happened to be pointed in the direction of the bed. I settled in, knowing it was going to be a long night. I was used to it, I could go days without sleep if I had to. I didn’t like to, but that wasn’t an option I had at that moment.
I flicked on the lamp beside me and I propped my feet up on the coffee table. My eyes never left his still body as the soft light filled the room. I checked to make sure he was still breathing and it wasn’t hard to tell that he was indeed still alive. Running my hand through my hair, I let out a heavy sigh.
What was I supposed to do now? He was in my apartment. In my space. In my bed. I was sure if word of this got back to my employer I would be dead.
I crossed my ankles, my heeled boots tapping against each other with a strange nervous energy I hadn’t had in a long time.
My mind started going in all directions and I found myself wondering what this guy’s story was. What had he done to piss my employer off so much to put a hit out? Why had he suddenly appeared after so long? I’d been there months before he even came along. And now, he had wandered into my bar.
I had watched from afar all this time, he would drink himself into a stupor every day, most of the time passing out on his couch. I witnessed him pacing and talking to himself many times, but I would never know what he was saying. I won’t lie, I was a little bit curious and I chalked it up to the fact that I’d never seen such a sad sight before. The only time I saw him interact with anyone was when he had visitors a few days ago. The two men weren’t there long and in the end, they seemed defeated as they left.
So, to say that having him right in front of me wasn’t all that bad, even if he was a passed out lump in my bed, would be close to the truth. He was a bit of a strange mystery and I may have had a tiny fascination with his behavior. Or maybe I was just going insane from being in one place for too long.
My hand reached for my phone in my back pocket. I itched for answers and I hated myself for it.
Me: He’s in my apartment. He came to the bar and passed out after drinking an entire bottle of whiskey.
It didn’t take long for Lucy to answer me back and I knew it wouldn’t. I didn’t think she ever slept.
Eyes: What?! OMG. Please tell me you are joking.
Me: Nope. He’s face down on my bed, snoring away.
Eyes: Why?
Me: I have no answer for that.
Eyes: What are you going to do?
Me: Let him sleep it off, I guess. I couldn’t just toss him out of the bar.
Eyes: This is bad. Very bad.
Yeah, no kidding. By far one of the stupidest moves I had ever made.
My fingers hovered over the screen as my mind tried to come up with some good excuse for why I’d done it, but I had nothing. Part of me wanted to ask her questions I knew she had answers to. Hell, I didn’t even know this guy’s name. But we didn’t talk work. Even if I asked her, I had a feeling she wouldn’t tell me because it was the way we wanted it. The way that we could keep our friendship because we both knew that our work would only complicate things. Like right now, it was threatening to drive down a sharp steak between us and both of us knew it. We were each walking a fine line this time, wanting to know all the answers going on in the other’s head.
Me: No, this could make it easier.
Even as I hit send I knew it was a lie. What I should have done at that moment was put a bullet in him, packed my shit, left him there, and drove off into the so-called fucking sunset. I could have washed my hands of all of it, been done, and collected my money. But as I reread my words, I felt a sick kick in my gut. I had already made this job harder than it should have been.
She took a while to reply. I saw the dots dance and stop multiple times as she more than likely typed and erased her words. I wondered if she could smell the bullshit in my response. I sure as fuck could. My eyes moved to look at him.
He was a mess, that was for sure. While I shouldn’t have cared, I found a deep curiosity as to why. I studied him, really taking in every inch that I could. His arms were strong and thick. Looking closer, I saw the skin was marred and bumpy along his left arm. I took in an unexpected harsh breath. The skin was a mix of pink and white, and I knew they were burn marks. His face was covered by his hair, hindering my view of it unless I moved it out of the way, and there was no way I was going to do that. While I could handle my own, he was massive. I had no urge to step into the lion’s cage. So I sat back and studied at a distance.
My phone vibrated in my hand, pulling my focus away from him.
Eyes: If that’s what you think is best. Be safe.
Translation being, she didn’t agree but wasn’t going to say more. The conversation with her was over by her choice. She wasn’t going to tell me how to do my job and I loved her for that on most days.
I tossed my phone beside me in the chair and it slipped, nearly falling between the cushion and the arm. I snatched it before it made it there. Then I crossed my arms over my chest, rested my head back and watched as he slept.
