Irrevocable

  Omarie drives west all the way to the river and then turns south. There’s very little out this way. The neighborhoods end abruptly for the sake of a nature preserve. Beyond the wooded area, there are some industrial buildings and a dusty lot filled with rusty ocean containers.

  He drives into the lot and parks, and I drive past him slowly, watching which direction he walks. The nearby rail station is deserted, so I park near the building and cross the street on foot. From the near side of the line of ocean containers, I can see him heading to one near the end of the line.

  There isn’t a lot of cover, so I stay on my side of the line and listen as he fumbles with the metal door on the second to last container. I hear voices coming from inside, but I can’t make out the words. After about thirty minutes, someone walks out of the container and wanders off across the dirt to smoke.

  His back is to me, and I can’t see his face. What I can see, shoved into the back of his pants but still over the top of a bright orange hoodie, is the butt of a Ruger.

  Creeping across the dusty ground, I ease up behind him. He’s got a cigarette dangling from his fingers as he taps away at a game on his phone. I stretch my fingers, slide up behind him, reach around, and break his neck.

  Slowly lowering him to the ground, I fish the Ruger out and take a look at it. It’s identical to those that went missing from Rinaldo’s shipment. I’d have to do a more thorough check to verify it is one of ours, but I don’t really care. It’s close enough for what I need.

  I back away quickly but quietly. It will be a few minutes before the dead man is missed, and I have plenty of time to get out of the area. There’s a shed near the rail station where I’m parked, and I’m lucky enough to find what I need inside.

  With a shovel tossed into the back of the Volvo, I don’t even have to go very far.

  *****

  With everything set in motion, I switch cars—making sure all the necessary equipment is moved from the Volvo to the Camaro—drive to Rinaldo’s office, and wait.

  Sitting on the couch in Rinaldo’s office, I check the Ruger in my duffel bag. It’s fully loaded and ready to go. There’s also some duct tape and plastic bags shoved in the bottom of the bag, but I don’t think I’ll need them. I’m wearing an orange T-shirt I found at a thrift store.

  I’ve spent a lot of time in various shrinks’ offices over the years, and I have a pretty good idea what to expect from them. They’re observant—it’s part of their job—and I’m going to have to be very careful about exactly what I say and do around Felisa. If I make a wrong move or say the wrong thing, she could get suspicious. Suspicious will turn into messy, and messy leaves evidence in the wrong place.

  For once, I don’t want anything to lead back to me.

  My phone makes a small chirping sound, but I ignore it. It will happen again in five minutes, just as I set the phone’s alarm to do.

  I sit quietly on the couch in the empty office, patient and calm. I’ve positioned myself on the edge of the couch, an unlit cigarette dangles from my fingers, and my elbows are on my knees as I stare at the floor. Attempting to look stressed-out isn’t a major hardship. I’ve got anxiety to spare.

  With a little luck, I’ll be removing one of those stressors before nightfall.

  Twirling the cigarette, I ignore Ralph as he sits on top of Rinaldo’s desk with his feet folded under him. He glares at me, crosses his arms, and huffs. It doesn’t matter. I’m not seeking his approval.

  The door opens, and I glance up, feigning surprise. Tucking the cigarette into my shirt pocket, I wipe my palms on the thighs of my jeans and stand.

  “Sorry,” I mumble, “I was looking for Rinaldo. He’s not answering his phone.”

  “No need to apologize.” Felisa smiles politely. She crumples a small piece of paper in her hand and shoves it into her jacket pocket. I recognize it as the one I left in her mailbox. I’m actually quite good at faking Rinaldo’s handwriting.

  “Have you seen him?” I ask, sounding hopeful.

  “I was hoping to meet him here,” she says. “I thought I was going to be late.”

  My phone chirps again, and I slip my hand into my pocket to bring it out. Tilting the phone toward the left, I make sure Felisa’s line of sight won’t allow her to see what’s displayed on the screen. I tap at the phone before returning it to my pocket.

  “It’s okay,” I say as I stand up. “I just wanted to talk to him, that’s all. I’ll find him later.”

  Felisa’s phone goes off, and she glances down at the text message displayed.

  Right on cue.

  “Evan, wait!”

  “Yeah?” I stop in my tracks and look at her quizzically.

  “It looks like Rinaldo isn’t going to make it, and my ride has already left.” She shrugs her shoulders and smiles sweetly. “I was hoping we could chat a bit. Then maybe you could give me a ride home.”

  “Chat? What about?” The key is to be reluctant. Shrinks want to believe they are dragging information out of you against your will. As long as they think they are getting what they want out of you, they aren’t looking for what you are trying to get out of them.

  She continues with the sugary smile and sits on the opposite end of the couch. Tilting her head to the side, she pats the cushion next to her.

  “Sit down for a minute.”

  I wonder if the inclusion of a couch in the room was her idea. It’s a new addition to the office since the time I was out of town. There used to be two chairs here instead.

  I move tentatively but sit next to her. Not too close; I don’t want her to think I’m being friendly. I pull the cigarette out of my pocket again to give myself something to fiddle with to feign nervousness and run my hand through my hair. Tapping my fingers against my knee, I glance over at Felisa.

  She’s still smiling.

  “I haven’t had a chance to get to know you at all.” Her start is innocent enough, except no one ever tries to cozy up to the guy who does the killing unless they need a job done. I’m pretty confident she’s not going to request my services.

  “I’m just me.” I shrug one shoulder and look down at the floor.

  “You’ve been with Rinaldo a long time.”

  “A few years.”

  “He thinks very highly of you.”

  I narrow my eyes a little. I’m careful not to give her too hard a glance. I don’t want her scared—not yet.

  “I get the job done.”

  “He’s told me a little about you,” she says. “About your history before you moved to Chicago, that is.”

  The information doesn’t surprise me. Rinaldo has spent a lot of time with her, and talking about me would have come up eventually.

  “Yeah? So?” I lean back on the couch and cross my arms.

  “So, that’s a lot for a person to take on without help.”

  “I’ve had help. Thanks anyway.” I start to get up, but she reaches out and coaxes me back to the couch.

  “I’m not trying to pry, Evan. I promise.”

  “Sounds like prying to me.” I don’t meet her eyes, but I keep my voice low enough to be defensive but not hostile. It’s a balancing act.

  “He worries about you, you know.”

  I clench my hands. The motion is involuntary. Her words aren’t what I am expecting, and I have to process the information before I can respond.

  “I’m fine.”

  It’s her turn to cross her arms and give me a hard look. It reminds me of Lele in a way that pisses me off, reminding me of my goal.

  “I don’t sleep well.” The statement is careful enough. It doesn’t give her anything, but her widened eyes and the way she leans a little closer to me tell me that she feels she’s made progress.

  “What’s going on, Evan? You seem troubled.”

  I rub my chin with my fingers and clear my throat. I start biting at the edge of my fingernail and pretend to contemplate.

  “You know whatever you tell me won’t be repeated, right? Not even to Rinaldo.?
??

  Believe me, you aren’t going to be saying anything to anyone.

  “Oh yeah?” I say. “I thought you shrinks had to report shit if I said I wanted to hurt someone else or myself.”

  I laugh humorlessly.

  Felisa smiles and nods.

  “Maybe,” she says, “if I worked in a clinic or if I was concerned about losing my license.”

  “I would hope you’d tell Rinaldo anything you heard,” I tell her. “You work for him, right?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Well, he’s the boss, and you shouldn’t keep shit from him.” Placing her on the defensive is a risky move, but if I can pull it off, she’ll buy anything I say afterwards.

  She keeps her eyes trained on mine. I can read the thoughts in her mind as easily as if they were displayed across her forehead. She thinks I’m trying to divert the conversation—steer it away from myself. She waits patiently and silently for me to get back on track.

  I let out a big sigh.

  “I haven’t talked about it for a long time,” I say. “I had a shrink a while ago, but I haven’t seen him.”

  “I’m happy to listen to whatever you have to say, Evan.”

  I lick my lips, going for nervousness. I glance at the open office door and furrow my brow.

  “Would you like me to close the door?” she asks.

  “Yeah…well, actually”—I pause and look up at her—“would you mind if we went somewhere else? Fuck knows who will walk in here.”

  “Sure,” she says, smiling again. “Where shall we go?”

  “My car’s outside. Maybe just go for a little drive?”

  “That would be nice.”

  No, it won’t be, but it’s necessary.

  “I’ve wanted to get to know you a little better,” she says as I open the passenger door of the Camaro and take her hand to help her inside.

  Felisa smiles up at me as I close the door and get in on the other side.

  “Well, what do you already know?” I ask as I put the car in reverse.

  “I know you were in the Marines, and I know what happened to you over there.”

  “Yeah.” I lick my lips. I know there will be a certain amount of actual talking just to get where I want to be. I need to keep her focused on me and not where I’m going.

  “Being a prisoner of war, captured by people who aren’t exactly following any kind of rules about your treatment…” She lets her voice trail off.

  “No,” I say, my throat suddenly dry, “they didn’t.”

  I merge onto the main road and head southeast.

  “Can you tell me about some of it?”

  “I got beat up a lot.” I laugh, and the sound is too loud in the small car.

  “I’m sure you did.” She doesn’t say anything else. She only watches me and waits.

  “They kept me in a hole most of the time,” I tell her. “Just a hole in the sand, tied up with the sun beating down on me.”

  “That must have been terrifying.”

  I grip the steering wheel a little tighter. If I had a bullet for every time someone said those same words to me, I could take out half the city.

  “That’s what I wake up thinking about in the middle of the night. I wake up thinking I’m still there.”

  “A lot of people who have been in such terrible circumstances sometimes think their real lives are a dream, and they are actually still in the midst of what happened to them.”

  “I know what’s real and what isn’t.”

  “Of course you do.” Felisa leans forward in the seat and turns toward me. “But sometimes you might feel like what is happening now isn’t real. When you first wake up, what’s going through your head?”

  “Who’s there.” The answer is too abrupt to be dishonest. It also sounds like the second part of a child’s joke.

  “Who is where?” she asks.

  “Who’s in the room with me,” I say. My temple starts to throb. “Who’s in the bed.”

  “Who do you think is there?”

  My knuckles have gone white. I’m not expecting going into so much detail, but her voice is calm and reassuring. It’s a deliberate tone on her part, but the knowledge doesn’t stop me from being affected by it.

  “I’m afraid I’m alone.” I barely hear my own words. “They left me alone for days at a time. No water, no food—just the sand and the heat.”

  I untwist my fingers from the steering wheel and wipe the back of my hand over my lips. It comes back damp with sweat. I let out a shaky breath and nearly miss my exit.

  I need to get back in control.

  “What do you do when you wake up?” Felisa asks softly.

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?” She pauses, but I don’t have a different response. “Do you go back to sleep?”

  “If there’s a hooker with me, yeah.”

  She nods and her eyes glisten with knowledge. Rinaldo has told her about my nightlife.

  “Having someone in your bed helps you sleep.”

  “Most of the time.”

  “Do you think it helps to bring you out of the dream, back into reality, when you realize you aren’t alone?”

  I have never thought about it that way, but something about her words sounds right.

  “I suppose so.” I glance over at her, expecting some kind of self-satisfied look on her face, but there isn’t one. She’s not making any judgments about me, and she’s not feeling all justified in her questions. Her hand twitches as if she wants to reach out and touch my arm, but she doesn’t move. Her eyes are soft—caring.

  There’s a hint of pity, though. It’s enough to bring me out of the trance the memories have induced. I pull off the main road and onto a smaller one.

  “I don’t think I’ve been out here,” Felisa says. “Where are we?”

  “A little nature preserve west of the city. It’s a nice relaxing place.”

  We drive a little farther before I turn right onto a dirt road. There’s no one around, and the trees hang low all around us. Some of them brush against the car, and I hope they don’t leave scratches on the bumpers.

  I still need to get that damn sticker off.

  “This really is the middle of nowhere,” she remarks.

  “It’s a good place to get away from it all.” I look over and give her a half-smile. “It’s usually pretty damp and humid around here, too. No sand.”

  “Do you still feel like you are trying to escape, Evan?”

  She’s still putting forth her best effort. I have to give her props for that.

  “Maybe. Sometimes I just like to deal with other things that upset me. Like today.”

  “What’s upsetting you now?” Her tone is slightly different. The confidence has dropped a little. She looks away from me and glances at the woods on the other side of the window.

  I slow the Camaro to a stop at the edge of the woods and reach around the back for my duffel bag.

  “There have been a lot of changes since I left,” I tell her. “New people around, and I’m not sure who I can trust. Trust is a big thing with me. Some people think they can just walk in and have someone else vouch for them, but I know opinions can be swayed by a smooth-talking politician. It’s easy to get wrapped up in other concerns and forget who you’re talking to. I’m rather protective of Rinaldo and his family, and not knowing the people close to him…well, that bothers me.”

  “I noticed you and Paulie don’t seem to get along.”

  “Paulie is careless and not all that bright,” I say, “but he’s loyal. Stupid, but loyal.”

  “It’s good to know Rinaldo has you on his side.”

  “I will always protect Rinaldo,” I state with a grin. “A lot of the time, he doesn’t realize what I’ve saved him from, but it still happens.”

  Yanking the duffel into my lap, I climb out of the car and open the passenger side door. Reaching in, I take Felisa’s hand and start to pull her out as I swing the duffel’s strap around my shoulder.

&nbsp
; “Evan?” Felisa pauses and pulls back on my hand. “Where are we going?”

  “To a favorite spot of mine.”

  She hesitates, and I can see the hint of fear in her eyes. She seems to have realized she can’t trust me, and she’s right. It’s way too late now, but she’s definitely right.

  “I think maybe I’d like to go back.”

  “Do you?” I ask as I pull her forward a bit more. She grasps a hold of the emergency brake to anchor herself into the car.

  “I didn’t realize how far we’d gone.” She glances over her shoulder at the empty road behind us. “It’s getting late, and Rinaldo will start to wonder why I didn’t meet him.”

  “Rinaldo didn’t ask you to meet him today,” I tell her. “He’s spending some much needed time with his wife.”

  I reach over and grab her hand off the brake, then pull her from the car. I bump the door with my hip to close it, making sure I have a firm grasp on Felisa’s arm the whole time. She’s still got a deer-in-the-headlights look in her eye, but she’s figuring it out quickly.

  “Evan…what are you doing?” Her hand wraps around mine as she tries to pull at my fingers.

  “Just what needs to be done, Felisa. It’s nothing personal.” I laugh aloud. “Actually, that’s a complete and total lie. This is personal. Quite personal.”

  “Does Rinaldo know you’re with me?”

  “No. As far as he will ever know, you just disappeared. If you’re found, I’m fairly certain the gangs will get the blame for it. Those bastards.”

  I click my tongue against the roof of my mouth and shake my head.

  “Evan…Evan, please!” She pulls at my arm ineffectively. “I don’t know what I’ve done to upset you. I’m loyal to Rinaldo. I swear I am! I’m not sure if you realize what kind of relationship he and I—”

  “Oh, believe me”—I stop and turn on her—“I know exactly what you and Rinaldo have going on. Why do you think you’re here? Did you think you were going to be graced with my cock, too?”

  I grab her arm and shove her through the brush at the side of the trail. A few feet into the woods, a clearing opens up. The large hole dug in the center of it looms ahead.