Page 4 of Old Habits

I would have thought this was one of those situations where time seems to stand still, but by the time I had folded Kip’s letter, shoved it into my pants pocket, and re-entered the surf shop, the man from outside had already stated his intentions and was now standing face to face with a very angry and shocked-looking Gabe.

  Ford and the two female customers who had entered only minutes before were now standing in a small huddle, watching curiously as the events unfolded before them. One of the girls looked slightly more anxious than the other.

  “What are you doing here?” Gabe asked. He had changed out of his wet clothes, but was still without shoes.

  I cautiously raised my right hand into the air as if sitting in English class and asked, “What exactly is going on here?” No one answered, but Gabe shifted his eyes to the ceiling as if annoyed I had even spoken. The woman who had been carrying the umbrella eyed me, smirking only for a second at the fact I had been ignored.

  The tall man continued speaking to Gabe as if I hadn’t even said a word. “How have you been, Gabriel? Long time, no see. I hear you’ve made quite the name for yourself. I hope it’s not too forward, but I feel like I can take some of the credit for that.” He wore expensive clothes, a dark blue button down shirt, charcoal tie, and matching slacks. His shoes alone probably cost more than all the clothes I owned. His hair was the same deep shade of black as Gabe’s, only pulled back in a ponytail that scraped against the back of his neck.

  “I was sent to deliver a message to you.” Gabe’s eyes widened at the words, but the man only laughed. “Not the ‘break your legs with a sledgehammer’ kind of message; I wouldn’t be here myself if that were the case. You know that. Harrison just wanted me to let you know you’re still in debt to him, and he expects his debt to be paid back… with interest.”

  As the two girls made their way to the exit in a hurry, Ford crossed the sales floor and stood next to me. Though his face was curious, there was no surprise written on it. “You know,” he whispered. “I always knew there was something shady about him. What do you bet he has years and years of gambling debts and this guy is some enforcer sent here to make him pay them back? Did you have any idea about any of this?”

  I stood, stone-faced, trying not to miss any interaction between Gabe and his visitor. “Yeah, I had an idea,” I said monotonously.

  Gabe’s fists were clenched, and he was trying his hardest not to come apart at the seams, I could tell. Whoever this guy was, Malvado or not, Gabe didn’t like him. Not that Gabe disliking anyone was out of the ordinary.

  “Get the hell out of my shop,” Gabe stated with more hatred in his voice than I had ever heard before. “I don’t know how you found this place, but you’re not welcome here. And we don’t owe Harrison shit. He tried to rob us and ruined our lives.”

  “You sure have grown up a lot in the last five years.”

  “I suppose you want to take credit for that, too, Garret?”

  Garrett. I’d heard the name before, but couldn’t specifically place when or where.

  Ford opened his mouth to speak again, but I quickly brought my hand to his face, silently telling him to keep quiet. He obeyed, turning his attention once again to the tension-filled conversation happening across the room. I had never been in a situation like this, but I knew background commentary wasn’t likely to help out.

  “You think you’ve made it, don’t you?” Garrett asked. “You think this is the big time. You’re selling half-ass product through a sham surf shop in southern California. This is about as low as it gets. Now, back in Hastings, that’s when you had potential. You screwed up big time.”

  The room was silent for a moment as Gabe composed himself, trying not to say something he’d later regret. In all our time together, I couldn’t remember a time I’d seen him so unnerved by something, or in this case, someone. The two of us had stood in a room where four people were shot, three of whom died, and speaking to this man still seemed to strike more fear into Gabe’s heart.

  “Get out,” Gabe said through clenched teeth and clenched fists.

  Garrett turned to leave, his umbrella-holder close behind, but stopped directly next to Ford and me, which, for some reason, made me incredibly nervous. He turned back to Gabe with a belittling smirk on his face. “I talked to Mom and Dad a few weeks ago. Did you know Dad hasn’t tried a single case since you took off? He’s convinced he can find you and get you off the hook for everything that happened. But, what can I say? The man was always a fool.”

  With that, he marched through the entrance to the shop, not even bothering to acknowledge me and Ford as we stood, staring in shock and amazement. Ford turned to me, confusion running rampant on his face. I couldn’t even imagine the thoughts going through his head; I had most of the story and still had no idea what was actually going on.

  I crossed the room, ready to interrogate Gabe about what had just happened, but stopped in my tracks when I saw the tears welling up in his eyes.

  “Don’t,” he muttered angrily.

  “What the hell is going on?” I asked in the nicest tone I could muster. I grabbed him by the shoulders as if encouraging a young kid. “We can’t make it through this if you leave me in the dark.” I realized how after-school-special I sounded and removed my hands from his shoulders and crossed my arms in front of my chest.

  Gabe nodded, but looked at Ford cautiously. He had never liked nor trusted him since they’d met.

  I turned to Ford and said, “Can you give us a minute? I need to talk this out with him in private.”

  Ford shook his head in disbelief and started to walk towards the backroom apartment. “I deserve to know what’s going on here. Something big is happening, and I’m not stupid. I’ll figure it out,” he said.

  His words struck deep, reminding me of how my own little brother had threatened to uncover the truth about my drug-dealing activities with Gabe the previous year. That hadn’t turned out well at all, so I stopped Ford before he was out of earshot. “Give us a minute. I’ll give you the Cliff’s Notes version, okay?”

  He nodded and stepped into the apartment, pulling the black curtain separating the two rooms so as to give the two of us some more privacy. I turned back to Gabe and waited for an explanation of some kind.

  “He’s my brother,” he began. “Five or six years ago, my parents sent me to live with him in Chicago because I was… a little out of control. Little did they know, he had plans of teaching me about his business. He taught me everything I know about drugs and selling them.” Gabe seemed ashamed, almost as if telling me this was breaking some kind of secret code between the two of them. Maybe he just didn’t like talking about his past.

  I waited for more, but nothing came. “That’s a good story, Gabe, but it doesn’t explain why he was here giving you the shakedown. And he mentioned Harrison. How does he know Harrison?” I urged.

  “Geet is Harrison’s right-hand man. If Harrison sent my brother from Chicago to deliver a message, we can assume it’s big, and we can assume they’re words directly from Harrison’s mouth. He doesn’t screw around when he sends Geet on assignments.”

  I took a deep breath. If Harrison had personally sent Gabe’s brother to speak with us, to threaten us essentially, then he had to have found out where we were hiding out. “How? How does he know we’re in California?” My voice was probably more panicked than I wanted to admit. I was also wondering why Gabe had never mentioned his older brother worked for our worst enemy, but I figured I’d take the question-answer session one step at a time.

  “I have no idea.”

  The first thought to pop into my mind was Kip. He and I had been writing back and forth to one another for months. What if Harrison had somehow intercepted or tracked a letter and found out where we were that way? What if he had gotten ahold of Kip and made him tell? The last letter was at least three days old; anything could have happened between then and now.

  I found myself needing more than anything to ask, “Our families.
Would Harrison have gone after anyone? Would he think he could get to us through them?”

  Gabe shook his head. “Harrison’s a businessman above anything else. He’s smart, and he has money. He’ll use those avenues first, but I don’t think he would ever actually hurt anyone unless he had to. He has too much to lose. Of course, I can’t be sure about--“

  I cut him off. “Be sure.”

  Gabe nodded his assurance. “He wants us, not them. He might have sent some goons, asked them some questions, but they’re all safe, I’m sure.”

  I leaned against the counter out of exhausted relief. For the few short moments I thought my parents, brother, or even Riley might have been in danger, and I could feel the numbness creep through my body was almost excruciating. Knowing they were likely all safe and well made the process of deciding what we would need to do seem at least a little more bearable.

  “What happens next?” I asked, terrified of the answer I knew was coming and even more terrified I was, once again, turning to Gabe as leader of our pack.

  Gabe bit his lower lip and stared at the ground, frustrated. In a whisper barely loud enough for me to hear, he said, “We have to run.”

  (Going Out With a Bang)

 
ChristopherWaltz's Novels