By the third round of drinks, Adele knew about Sally’s failing marriage and how Joe changed over the years. Adele noticed Sally’s demeanor shifted as she glossed over her evening with Antonio and his thugs. Adele guessed the pain went deeper than the woman let on. However, when Sally told her more details concerning Lane’s involvement in helping Sally, the explanation bothered Adele.

For a fleeting instant, she wondered if Lane carried feelings for Sally. The woman told Adele that Lane appeared happy at the thought of thumbing his nose at the gangster. The explanation reminded Adele when Lane showed up at the apartment. For a brief instant, Lane appeared to enjoy shaming Lloyd and her. Combined with the jealousy he showed, it was an attitude so different from the man she married.

As for Sally, her mind drifted away from the last 24 hours as the effects of the drinks filled her. When Sally looked at Adele, she realized they had some similarities. Foremost was the loneliness and distance they shared with husbands at one point. Somehow, their men became lost to them. Sally knew the distance with Joe came from his drinking, but that was a response to his inability to succeed in his career. She wondered how much of his change came from her own insecurities. Did she emasculate him by taking charge of her father’s business?

She sighed, thinking about Adele and Lane’s relationship. When Sally heard about Lane’s transformation, Sally felt a bit of envy. Still, she also sensed Adele’s bitterness about her husband becoming involved her in problems. Perhaps it was Lane’s work as a detective, which also strained their relationship. Sally laughed at herself, realizing the drinks were causing her to come up with strange thoughts.

A knock at the door of the room made both women look over when the porter entered.

“Ladies, I thought I should tell you we’re only a few minutes away from Sacramento. I can show you to your seats. By the way, the conductor reminded me you never paid for your tickets.”

The woman looked at each other, then they laughed at the news.

“So, are you charging us for two seats or three?” Adele asked the man. Sally’s laughter nearly turned hysterical when she saw the porter’s confused expression as he told them he would talk with the conductor.

The two women realized their intoxication as they disembarked the train in Sacramento. Squinting in the sunlight, they followed a baggage man after telling the large man with a mustache that they needed a taxi. He smiled broadly at the tip Adele gave him.

“Where’ya heading, ladies?”

The cabbie slid back into the driver’s seat after putting the suitcases in the trunk.

The women looked at each other, having a hard time to keep from laughing at the absurdity of their situation. On the run from a murderous gangster and they didn’t plan for a hotel.

“You find us the best hotel in town,” Sally said. “It’s our first time here.”

~~~

The blood continued to spill down my cheeks, staining my white shirt red as I limped along the tracks, which led me back to Stull Junction. Brushing away the blood tears with my coat sleeve, I could occasionally make out a blurry city in the distance.

Still, I could only lurch along, barely functioning from the relentless waves of nausea and crippling torture inside my head. After a while, my senses felt a gradual release from the attacks striking me. While I did not see any city limit sign, the blood tears changed over to clear fluid. Pausing in the middle of the tracks, I bent over, letting the natural tears flow. The action slowly washed away the gritty feeling stinging with each movement of my eyelids. The feeling of relief helped move the tears as I stood erect and looked around.

At least I can see again.

Still, I wasn’t happy by any stretch. My aching body kept finding more of the damage I suffered from the tumble off the train as I walked. I took an assessment of my clothing and determined that the suit and shirt were probably not salvageable. I lost my hat at some point, but I still had my wallet and black book. Even more miraculous was my gun remained in its holster. There’s a reason for the piece of leather covering the hammer. But lost clothing was the least of my worries.

I needed to get to my office. After that, my goal is just staying alive while keeping Adele and Sally away, I reminded myself grimly. Plus, I had business with Freddie Antonio that required me to get dirty. A bitter smile came to my face. When I entered the city again, I finally came out of my initial reluctance about dealing with Antonio. Since the bastard wanted me dead, he left me with only one option, since I can’t run away. Somehow, I knew that the cackling idiot I heard inside my head wanted me to go against the gangster. The forced events led me to believe Miss Wonderful set me up for this event.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Be careful what you wish for, you cold-blood bitch!

Eventually, I found a car shop and gas station where I stopped to clean up my appearance. Well, as much as water can do to remove blood from clothes and my face. The pay phone got me a taxi while the shop owner gave me a wary stare several times. When he finally asked what happened to me, I gave him a smile and told him I fell down. He looked at me like I was a crazy man but quit trying to figure out my business.

The cab drove me to my apartment first, and I took the rear door into the building. I checked out the lobby from behind a fake marble partition and immediately noticed one of Antonio’s thugs sitting there. It was the guy named Johnny. The doorman, standing near him, kept giving uncomfortable glances at the tough. From the doorman’s body language, I knew he was afraid. I didn’t blame him as I backed away and took a back stairwell up to my apartment. I peeked around the corner when I got to the floor, but no one was in the hallway.

When I got inside the apartment, I bolted the door and went to the phone to call my office. Alice picked up on the third ring and said that no one left a message for me. After putting down the handset, I went into the bedroom to find clothes and get a quick shower. After all, I do some of my best thinking while I’m under the spray of warm water.

As I thought about my situation, I remembered my little black book and came up with a plan that only lacked a lure, and I knew right where my bait sat. I decided against playing cat and mouse with Antonio anymore. He left me his calling card, so I would take him up on his offer, but on my terms. Picking up the phone, I called Judge Seabury. I needed some advice on legal landmines I planned on setting out. After speaking with him for a few minutes, I called down to the front desk.

When I finally left the apartment, my mind no longer debated my coming actions. I decided to protect two people from Antonio. Whatever the outcome, I had to go through with it. Certainly, I fear death and I can’t picture myself a hero like Joe. As I stood under the water, my thoughts returned to one fact that I can’t run from. I’m stuck in a persona that I can’t remove, despite how much I want to be free of it. Whether the bitch in my head is setting me up for worse or not, I must survive or just give up. Maybe I’ve gone nuts here, but I can’t even think about giving up. Surviving my latest encounter with whoever kept me in Stull Junction gave me confidence that I would never have a week ago.

Playing nice with these people will get me killed.

I went down the back stairs with my.45 in my hand and a gray fedora on my head. Before I left the apartment, I looked in the mirror, realizing that I was paying more attention to such things. For a brief instant, I wondered if the persona held more of a hold on me than I cared to admit.

When I got to the main floor, I carefully stepped out into the lobby. Taking up a position behind the partition again, I noticed Johnny moved his position. Now, he stood near the desk where the desk clerk in green sat answering the calls coming into the apartment building.

Well, thanks for small favors, I thought. The thug’s back was to me.

Stepping out when the doorman stepped outside, I quietly walked up behind Johnny. Poking him in the back with the barrel of the .45, I told him to walk to the front door.

“You will slowly put your gun on the counter, or you get a big hole in your back.”

The goon grunted, then nodded while carefully pulling his revolver from under his jacket. I pressed hard on his back with the barrel, reminding him of my presence.

“Now take a step forward,” I said.

As he did, I grabbed the gun while the clerk at the counter stared at us. Glancing over, I pressed my index finger to my lips.

“Don’t bother the cops, it’s a family matter,” I said.

My new friend, Johnny, played along as we exited the building. Even the clerk at the desk didn’t pick up the phone as we left. But it didn’t take long for the thug’s attitude and words to piss me off.

“You’re not too smart. Antonio wants to kill you slow, and you walked right back to us. Every punk with a gun is looking for you,” the man told me confidently.

“Well, I can still take out a few before I go. I can’t wait to see your boss again. We need to clear a few things up.” I tried to remain flippant, but my nerves wrapped around me like a noose.

“It’s the blue car, isn’t it?” I said after I noticed a man leaning back in the driver’s seat with his hat covering his eyes.

“Quiet or your kidneys go boom,” I warned him.

Pushing him to come up behind the car, we got near the back tire, and I lifted my gun and smashed it into the back of Johnny’s head. The big man’s grunt as he dropped to his knees woke his partner in the car. However, I moved around Johnny and pointed my gun in his friend’s face. The man stopped trying to get his pistol out of his holster and slowly lifted his right hand away. He grinned until I cocked the hammer.

“Hand me the keys now. Use your right hand or die!”

He carefully pulled them from the ignition switch and handed me the keys. I stepped close, monitoring Johnny, who lay on the ground moaning while holding the back of his head. Any other time, I might have cared about how hard I hit him.

“Now, pull your gun with your fingers,” I told the driver. “Do it so slow that I can see the serial number. Move too fast and you’ll lose that ugly face.”

The goon did as I ordered, his eyes staring at the gun pointed just beyond his reach. I pocketed the gun and told him to get out of the car. I went to the trunk and opened it.

“Put your friend in the trunk.”

A few minutes later, both of Antonio’s men lay crammed inside the trunk of the blue La Salle. I’ll admit that I drove away with a certain sense of satisfaction that I pulled the whole thing off without killing them or me dying. Yet, my hands shook worse than standing in front of Antonio in his club.

“Don’t get your hopes up yet, dummy,” I told myself after taking a deep breath.