Games of Fire (65 page)

He shrugged. “I was convincing when I told him I was crazy about his daughter.” He smiled a little. “So, what do you say? Will you accept my promise?”

Sophie looked at the ring he still held and smiled. “Like you could ever get rid of me now, mister.”

He slipped the ring down her middle finger. “Mine.”

Chapter 1

Four Years Later

Falcon

Talking on the phone with Nellie was like talking to Alice from the Wonderland, flighty and whimsical. One day I was going to give her a petit-four and see if she shrunk so Owen could put her in his pocket.

“You’re gonna hate me. And then you’re gonna kill me,” Nellie said over the phone.

“Come on Hellie. I could never hate you and if I killed you, my mom would kill me. And then there would be a line of ladies weeping and mourning over their loss.”

She laughed over the phone and I had to pull the phone away from my ear. My sister-in-law was hella loud.

“Oh my stars Falcon, you’re right. What was I thinking? We must think of the welfare of all the single women—not. Ok, so are you game for one more job?”

“For you?” I really didn’t want to take on any more work, but for Nellie, I would do just about anything.

“Yeah, well, me and the team.” Her voice rose at the end of that statement, an indication that she felt bad about asking.

“You want me to manage the team’s money?” I didn’t realize it was that big of an issue.

“Yeah, we’ve got more team members and we’re thinking of making our own league instead of just one team. So there will be fees and then there’re t shirt sales, signed posters and you know I hate the suit crap. No offense.”

“Hmmm, ok, for you, I will. And I’m going to ignore the suit comment lady.” I was the suit to which she referred. I was an accounting major at Tulane with a minor in business administration. Which was funny considering my torso and arms were completely covered with tattoos and I still had my Mohawk. Nellie called it edgy. I called it ‘Here I am. If you don’t like it, I have a special finger gesture just for you.’

“Lunch?” She asked.

“Yeah, noon at the Union?”

“Ok, be there or be…wait, you already are square.” She caused herself to giggle.

“Ha ha ha. Bye dork.” I hung up the phone and went into my Econ class making sure to turn down the volume on the ringer. Dr. Glusman was notorious for taking students’ phones if they rang during a lecture. The classroom was built as a theatre but classes were held here. I assumed they probably meant for large classes to meet here but instead this class was only about thirty students on a good day. Today was not a good day. There were maybe a dozen in attendance and Dr. Glusman paid meticulous attention. You couldn’t be a skipper on his watch. Plus, he loved to test on lectures only. Screw the books, your grade depended on listening to his nasaly voice. Plus, he looked just like Bones from Star Trek. You had to watch to see if he said ‘green blooded hobgoblin.’

He cleared his throat to get attention from the class while his slide show appeared on the screen. This week’s series of lectures was about public economics—welfare, taxation, social programs, etc. I took diligent notes but personally I thought that if everyone would just help each other, there would be no need for those programs. But thinking in Dr. Glusman’s class was frowned upon. You listen, you take notes, you study, get a good grade. That, I could do.

Class ended and we all had to go to the front and sign the attendance roster. He watched us like a hawk while I signed my name

Hawk watches Falcon sign his name? You’ve lost it, man.

I picked up my backpack and headed towards central campus, to the Union. I walked up the pebbled steps and grabbed a tray, not knowing what to get.

“Falcon!” I heard and saw her hair immediately. One thing about Nellie, you’d never lose her.

She did a couple of hand motions towards a tray in front of her. I put my tray back and headed to the table. I sat down across from her and did a ‘turn around’ motion with my finger. She had changed her hair and when she turned the top half was pink and the bottom half was purple. She had it up in some kind of bun thing so both colors could be seen.

“So, what do you think?” She asked me this every time she did something to her hair and it was my job as her brother/friend to come up with a quirky response. It was our thing.

“I’m wondering where the Holograms and the Misfits are. That’s what.”

She glowed at that response. We were both 1980’s TV fanatics and she knew what I was talking about. I could tell.

“Falcon Black did you just make a Jem and the Holograms reference?”

“I did. It was a girl cartoon, but damn those Misfits were hot and truly, truly, truly outrageous.” She clapped and as if we didn’t ordinarily warrant extra attention from the other tables, we had it now.

I stood and bowed to her and then to the rest of the room while she giggled at me. “I’m so glad I bought your lunch. You deserve it for that one.”

“So where’s Owen?” I asked even though I could see my brother towering behind her, waiting for his moment.

She checked her watch and then shrugged. “He should be here any minute.”

He bent down at her ear level and whispered, “I’m here.” She almost jumped across the table.

“Good grief Owen. Stop doing that crap. And you,” she pointed to me, “stop helping him.”

We both laughed at her and she soon joined in. I finished my meal and let them finish their meals together while I went to my afternoon class and then back to the restaurant to work.

My second class of the day was easy. It was American Literature and Nellie knew all of the books like the back of her own hand. She helped me when I needed it and I loved her for it.

I got to the restaurant about three o’clock. I liked to get my work done before the dining room got busy. I couldn’t stand trying to work over the clanging of plates and the banging of pots. I already had payroll done for the week so I paid out the restaurant’s bills for the food deliveries and finalized the numbers for the day. I took the money and zipped it all up in a leather bag and ran through the bank and deposited it before going home.

I lived in a tiny apartment about a half mile from Cindi’s Indie, Nellie’s bookstore and her and Owen’s apartment upstairs from the store. I opened the creaky wooden door and put my bag on the tiny counter of the kitchenette. I lived sparsely and simply. By the window was a double bed, a futon couch thing on the other side of the room and a flat screen on the wall. It was all I needed. When Nellie and my mom first came over they called it ‘Bachelor Pitiful.’ But I could care less, anyway, who in the Hell was I going to impress?

My cell phone buzzed and I reached into my pocket to see the message.

Family dinner tonight.

We had family dinners every single Tuesday night without fail and had since Owen and Nellie got married. Mom had demanded it since we were all growing up and leaving the nest. Maddox acted like it annoyed him, but I knew he loved it.

I showered and got dressed for dinner. I put on a white t shirt, jeans and Doc Martens. I combed my hair straight back, not willing to put in the time or the effort in spiking it up. I went downstairs and got into my 1976 Ford Truck. It had tons of miles on it but ran like brand new.

I got to the restaurant and pulled around the back, wanting to enter through the backdoor. I quietly made my way in but they were waiting for me, the lot of traitors waited for me.

The whole damned restaurant started a silly rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ at once, complete with my brothers interjecting their own moronic phrases in between chorus lines.

After they finished and I was thoroughly embarrassed, we ate Mom’s lemon cheesecake and that was my only birthday wish. They gave me presents but I chose to open them later on. We sat there until Owen yawned a very loud, very fake yawn and we all knew it was his cue to get his wife home. My parents followed afterwards and I left before Maddox could beat me to it. I was usually the last one out, but not tonight.

I got into my truck and fired it up after piling the presents on the bench seat. As I drove I shrugged my shoulders to myself. I guess I am an old man after all. What guy goes home alone on his 20th birthday? Me, that’s who.

Chapter One

“Dying - ceasing to live; approaching death; expiring: a dying man.”

Dex

I’m going to hell. I’ve known this since I was ten years old. The year I murdered someone. Knowing my fate made it a lot easier to determine how I was going to live my life and what kind of person I was going to be. Since I wasn’t going to heaven, why bother living like it?

And so, my destiny was sealed long before most even think about it. I never worry about it because I don’t really care. I figure since I’m already living like I belong there, it won’t be much of an adjustment. I actually look forward to one aspect of hell: the heat. After almost eighteen years of living in the blistering cold, I’m still not used to it. I still don’t like it. Honestly, I don’t like much of anything.

Sliding into the shadows of a narrow alley, I positioned myself so I could look for the lucky person who’d help me get warm. After a few people passed—without realizing I was watching, debating what kind of mark they would be—I settled on my victim. I had yet to see her, but I knew without a doubt it was a her. The sound of high-heeled boots cracked down the pavement with an intonation I recognized well: exhaustion. With every slap of her boots, another lighter noise caught my attention—coins hitting together as she walked.

I sank back, keeping an ear on the approaching footsteps. It wouldn’t be long before I would be warming myself with a hot cup of coffee and a slice of homemade pie. I smiled at the irony that the very place I planned to go was the very place she just left. It was almost too easy. Usually, I liked a challenge, the thrill of outsmarting an impossible target. I liked stealing from people who were too stupid to know what happened right under their noses.

Not tonight.

Tonight the cold seemed colder and my stomach emptier. As she drew near, I straightened, pulled my cap lower on my head, and walked right out onto the sidewalk. I didn’t look at her; I pretended she wasn’t even there.

She wasn’t as smooth.

I felt her stare and I knew her eyes probably widened at my unexpected appearance. Her steps faltered, just barely. In fact, if I weren’t paying attention to the clap of her feet, I wouldn’t have noticed.

But I did.

I looked up, right at her. Her startled, wary expression was exactly as I expected. So I did the unexpected.

I smiled.

This time her steps noticeably faltered before they quickened. Unfortunately for her, the sidewalks were icy and she slipped. Fortunately for me, I was right there to catch her, sliding my free hand down into the front pocket of her apron.

“Easy there,” I told her as my hand closed around a stack of bills. “It’s a long way down.”

Her eyes stretched wide as I steadied her on the pavement and stepped back, stuffing my hands into my jacket. I could taste the coffee already. She continued to stare without saying anything. It was weird, and I got what I wanted, so I walked away.

“Hey!”

I froze, pivoting slightly on my heel. She couldn’t possibly know I just picked her pocket. It was over in less than five seconds. Not responding would only confirm her suspicions, if she had any, so I raised my eyebrows in silent inquiry.

“Thank you.”

Thank you? When she got home later and realized all her tips from the night were gone, she would regret those words. Although, I did teach her a very important lesson so maybe the thanks were deserved. Maybe this would teach her not to go walking around alone in a dark, not-so-great neighborhood.

“Yeah.” I answered, because she was doing that staring thing again and I just wanted to get rid of her.

Thankfully, she seemed to pick up on the fact I didn’t want to chat and she turned, walking to stand just below the bus sign. The bus rounded the corner and barreled toward the stop.