The next few days, I just tried to act like everything was normal. That’s harder than it sounds, when there are strangers shadowing your every step. I almost wished they were better at it, because then it would have been easier to pretend that I didn’t notice. But perhaps that was the point, maybe I was supposed to notice them there; Tom had told me people would be watching, after all. The more I thought about it, and the more they swapped in new people to track me, the more certain I was that this was a display of power, of influence. Though I wasn’t certain if the goal was to cow me, or to impress me. Maybe both. Either way, I steadfastly ignored their presence, going about my daily routine, as usual. It was important that I wait for them to make the first move. I had turned Tom away, firmly, and to go running back to him immediately with a complete change of heart would be… suspicious was not a strong enough word for it. Obvious, probably worked better. Tom wasn’t stupid. No, I needed them to watch, to see that I did nothing to interfere with their plans, nothing to blow the whistle, and then, when he came back to me, I could soften my stance, make it clear that I was open to persuasion. Not convinced, of course, not so quickly, but at least willing to hear him out, to be talked into it. I had thought this through, was satisfied with the plan, but even so, it was difficult to just do nothing. So, on the third day, despite my misgivings, I decided it was time to go back to the gym. It was the one element of my usual routine that I had hesitated to continue. Carter was ubarae, after all, so there was some risk to being seen with him right now. But the gym was a public place, and my new friends should be able to keep an eye on me, easily enough, to make sure I wasn’t spilling anything I shouldn’t be. As long as I didn’t do anything to concern them, it seemed less suspicious to just continue with my training. So, I that morning I packed my bag and walked over to keep my appointment. Carter seemed a bit surprised to see me, which was understandable, but he recovered quickly enough.
“Morning, Ray, I wasn’t sure when I would see you next. You’ve missed the last few days,” he chided.
“Sorry, Carter, like I told the guy in the front office, I hurt my leg, wasn’t feeling up to sparring, but I am doing much better today.”
“Glad to hear it,” his eyes studied me a bit too closely, probing silently for more information.
I cursed under my breath. He knew something he probably shouldn’t, obviously. I should have seen that coming. He and Liz were tight, she had probably said something to him, in case I came back here. But that might have been a mistake on her part, because he wasn’t hiding it as well as I needed him to. I was tempted to just leave, before he made it too obvious, but that would only draw more attention to the problem, so instead I tried to redirect the incubus.
“So, you ready to get started?” I clapped my hands. “I am really looking forward to working up a sweat, today.”
“Right, of course,” Carter shook his head and squared his shoulders. “Let me grab my gloves and we’ll get right to it.”
Carter staggered back a step from the blow to the stomach and wiped a bead of sweat from his brow.
“You seem to be in better form, today,” he noted, catching his breath.
I shrugged,
“Let’s just say I have a few things I am trying to get out of my system.”
I had thought about it, and since I was being observed, pulling my punches might not look particularly good. This was a little bit like a job interview, after all, I needed to impress them.
“I am glad to see that all of our work hasn’t gone to waste,” Carter took a swing, but I danced out of reach. “Especially since you seem pretty dead set on getting yourself into a dangerous situation,” he frowned. “Is there anything I can say to convince you not to…”
Carter was interrupted by an elbow to the throat, and he dropped to his knees, coughing and gasping for breath.
“Of my god, I am so sorry!” I gasped, rushing to his side. “I thought I aimed lower, there. That was so clumsy of me!”
I couldn’t blame him for not blocking that one, it was explicitly against the rules of our sparring sessions. Torso and limbs only, no hits below the belt or above the chest. I knelt beside him and put a hand gently on his back,
“Are you alright?” I exclaimed loudly.
He didn’t answer, still trying to catch his breath. I leaned in closer and lowed my voice so that only he could possibly hear me,
“We are not alone here,” I carefully avoided glancing at the treadmills behind us. “Whatever Liz told you, if you don’t want to get us both killed, keep your mouth shut about anything I might be involved in, understand?”
He met my eyes briefly in a way I took to indicate that he did, so I rose and offered him help back to his feet,
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
“I am really, really sorry, Carter,” that was true enough. “Do you need a break?”
He finally managed to suck in a full breath.
“No, no. I’m fine,” he croaked. “These things happen sometimes. Occupational hazard. Don’t worry about it. Let’s … let’s keep going. Just be careful, no more high hits, alright?”
I nodded, outwardly abashed and apologetic. To his credit, Carter didn’t attempt to address what had just happened any further, and he kept to safer topics for the rest of our bout, though I did catch him watching me more closely than usual. I probably wasn’t going to be able to come back here after this, it was too risky. That was a shame, it meant I would need to find other things to fill my time.
I snipped a dead branch off the rose bush, dropping it into the bucket by my side. Putting the pruning shears down on the ground, I leaned back on my heels and removed the flask from my pocket, taking a sip as I inspected my handiwork. It… wasn’t great; admittedly the bush was a bit lopsided, but I was afraid to prune too much, I didn’t want to damage it. My research indicated that I wasn’t supposed to trim much in the fall, just clean up dead branches and leaves and prepare it for the winter. Hopefully, next year, once the bush had some more time to grow, I would be able to even it out. Maybe even get it looking as full and healthy as it had when we transplanted it from James’ garden, though, that might be wishful thinking. At least I hadn’t killed it. Yet. I sighed and took another swig.
“Look, I told you that this wasn’t really my thing, I am doing my best, ok?”
I glanced back at the gravestone, as if he could hear me. A fanciful notion, but still, sometimes it helped to talk. It felt strange to be here in complete silence all the time. Though it was equally strange to talk to a headstone, wasn’t it? I took a final sip and screwed the cap back on the flask, then returned to my work. I needed to keep myself busy. It had been 7 days now, since I had last heard from Tom, and I was beginning to worry that he had written me off. I had been tempted, more than once, to call him, but I was still certain that letting him make the first move was best. Even so, it was growing increasingly difficult to keep waiting. I had thought a bit of gardening might help get my mind off of things, but honestly, I didn’t have much of a green thumb. I was learning, but this wasn’t especially relaxing, for me. Spotting a bud that had never finished blooming, I reached out for it and as I grasped the stem, a thorn punctured my thumb and I yelped, drawing my hand back. Pulling off my glove, I saw blood running freely from the deep piercing. I winced and stuck my thumb in my mouth, sucking the blood. The thorns on these things were brutal. I was going to need thicker gardening gloves, if I was going to keep this up, because my cheap dollar store gloves were clearly not cutting it. I would pick some better ones up at the gardening store when I stopped to buy mulch, later. I inspected my thumb again; crimson blood bubbled from the wound and dripped down my arm. I cursed under my breath. I should have brought a first aid kit, apparently. I felt a tap on my shoulder, and a white cloth fluttered into view.
“You look like you could use this.”
I jumped slightly; I hadn’t noticed anyone approaching, not that I had really been watching.
“Tom? What are you doing here?” I took the proffered handkerchief and wrapped it around my hand, pressing on it to stem the bleeding.
“I’m not allowed to come pay my respects?” he asked.
“Of course, you are, it’s just… a surprise,” I looked at the ground, avoiding his eyes.
He approached, standing next to the rose bush,
“It is looking pretty good. You seem to be getting the hang of this.”
Liar.
“I’m trying,” I shrugged. “I can go, now, if you want to be alone here.”
“No, no, don’t do that. Actually, I was hoping I might see you. I haven’t heard from you in a while.”
He trailed off, leaving the tension between us unspoken. I dropped my shoulders, cheeks flushing.
“I… well, I’m sorry about that. I’ve thought about calling you so many times, but I’ve been too embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed?” Tom raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Oh, come on, don’t play dumb. I made a complete fool of myself the last time we talked. You were explaining something important, and I was drunk off my ass and behaving like a child. Once I sobered up, it was pretty humiliating. I thought after all that… maybe you wouldn’t want to hear from me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Tom smiled, a hint of relief on his face. “In fact, I thought you might be angry with me. You didn’t seem too pleased when you kicked me out.”
“I wasn’t. But after I had some time to think about it, I realized maybe I am still clinging to a past that doesn’t exist anymore,” I glanced back at the headstone, briefly wondering if Tom had chosen to confront me here because he thought I would be more vulnerable. If so, I could work with that. James would have understood. “I shouldn’t have freaked out. I’ll be honest. I still don’t like the idea of that much killing, but maybe I am just not fully understanding the situation, why it is necessary, the way you do. I know you wouldn’t suggest this, without a good reason. I trust your judgement, after all, and mine isn’t much to write home about, at the moment.”
Tom grinned,
“I knew you would be reasonable about this, Ray. And I completely understand why you would be hesitant, that is really more to your credit. This isn’t something I relish, either. But I think we can explain to you why this is necessary, even if it is distasteful. How about we go back to your place, have a few drinks, and chat a bit?”
I nodded, with just a hint of hesitation.
“Sounds good. Though, I will admit to having a bit of a head start on you,” I patted the flask in my pocket.
I had cut back a bit since last week, but not entirely. I wouldn’t say I was drunk, but I wouldn’t lie and claim to be entirely sober, either.
“Don’t worry about that,” Tom chuckled and offered his hand. “Grab your things, we can take my car.”
I brushed the dirt off on my pants and let him help me to my feet. I collected my gardening supplies and Tom grabbed the bucket of trimmed branches and leaves. As I turned to follow him out of the graveyard, I felt something tug on my arm, holding me in place. Glancing back, I saw my sleeve caught in the thorns of the rosebush. It was probably best not to read too much into that, but it was hard not to think of it as some kind of sign.
Sorry boss, I thought, I know you wouldn’t like this any more than Gail does, but I’ve got to do what I’ve got to do. I’ll be back to see you soon enough, one way or another.
With that, I yanked my sleeve free and jogged to catch up to Tom.