Allison

by Strand, Jeff

  “You have a child on the way, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’d better be the best goddamn father of all time, because that child is the only reason there’s not a bullet in your skull right now.”

  Daxton completely believed him.

  “How long have you worked for me, Daxton?”

  “About six years.”

  “Wrong.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “This is day one. Those six years of our relationship and the respect you had earned have been erased. We’re starting from scratch. You’re a new kid walking in off the street. And that applies to your pay rate, too.”

  Daxton almost started to protest, then caught himself.

  “Also, before you leave this office, two men are going to beat the absolute living shit out of you, and you’re going to just take it. They’re going to beat you so badly that you should go to the hospital, though you won’t. If you’re not pissing blood, they haven’t done their job. Am I clear?”

  “How can I work for you if I’m hurt that badly?”

  “It’s not my problem. Consider it a couple weeks of unpaid leave. Then you will be on a severe probationary period where if you screw up in any way, I will Kirkwood you. Got it?”

  Blake Kirkwood had slept with Winlaw’s wife. Not when they were married—the sex had happened back in college, before Winlaw even knew his bride to be. But about three years ago, Kirkwood had tried to reconnect with Denise Winlaw when he was in town, asking her if she wanted to grab lunch and catch up. Kirkwood had spent the next thirty-nine hours and eighteen minutes in a soundproofed basement. The men who’d been down there—men who were happy to slice off somebody’s thumb without losing a wink of sleep—refused to talk about exactly what happened, but it was “bad, really bad—I mean, the kind of shit you can’t get out of your head.”

  “I’ve got it,” said Daxton.

  Daxton was incapable of driving afterward, so the men (he knew them—Gary and Craig—though their previous friendly interactions apparently meant nothing when it was time to administer the beating) drove him back to his apartment. He hobbled up the four steps to the main entrance like a ninety year-old, then slowly made his way down the hallway toward his apartment, hoping Maggie wasn’t home. He’d at least like to wash off the blood and change into fresh clothes before she saw him.

  When he went inside, the television was on and he could smell coffee, so she was home. She stepped out of the kitchen, and her smile immediately vanished when she saw him.

  “Oh my God, baby, what happened?” she asked, hurrying over to him.

  She was wearing the maternity dress with the spaghetti sauce stain on the front that hadn’t come out. Daxton had offered to buy her another one, but she didn’t want to squander money on something she’d only wear for a few more weeks. When her stomach had first started expanding, she’d started wearing makeup more often and taking more time with her hair, but she’d quickly gotten over that. Now she didn’t care how she looked.

  “I’ll tell you everything,” said Daxton. “Just give me a minute.”

  “You need to go to the hospital.”

  “No. I’m not allowed to.”

  “You’re not allowed to?”

  “I said, I’ll explain everything.”

  “What can I do for you?” Maggie asked. “Do you want me to start you a warm bath?”

  “I’d love that.”

  She hurried into the bathroom. Daxton limped in there after her and began the excruciatingly painful process of removing his clothes. By the time he was done, the bath was ready, and he climbed in. The soapy water immediately turned pink.

  Maggie picked up a sponge and began to gently run it over his shoulders. “What happened?” she asked.

  “It was basically a babysitting job. Winlaw’s son-in-law was doing his first hit, and I was there to make sure he didn’t mess it up.”

  “Son-in-law? I didn’t think Olivia was married yet.”

  “Future son-in-law, okay? It’s not important to the story. He was freaking out and wasn’t sure he could go through with it, so I told him I’d shoot the guy and give him credit for it. All he had to do was make sure nobody else was in the apartment. That’s it. We weren’t in some gigantic mansion—it was a tiny little two-bedroom place. Six-year-olds playing hide and seek could’ve handled that job.”

  “So somebody else was in the apartment?” Maggie asked.

  “Why are you trying to get ahead of my story?”

  “Sorry, babe. I thought it was obvious.”

  “Yes, somebody else was in the apartment. Lady with a gun. She got off two shots. Killed Sam.”

  “Oh, no. Sam was the son-in-law?”

  “Of course Sam was the son-in-law. Who else would he be?”

  “He could’ve been the person you were there to kill.”

  “How would that make any sense?” Daxton asked.

  “She could’ve been your competition! I don’t know how the story turns out!”

  “You’d find out if you’d stop fucking interrupting me.”

  “Don’t curse around our daughter.”

  “She can’t—” Daxton decided that this was not the time to debate what his unborn daughter could and could not hear. “Yes, Sam, my boss’s future son-in-law, was murdered on my watch. I killed the target and the woman, and a fixer crew got everything cleaned up. So the job got done with no witnesses, but Winlaw blames me for the moron’s negligence, and he had his goons do this to me. Told me we were back at square one. Gonna cut my pay. Threatened to torture me to death if anything else ever goes wrong.”

  Maggie ran the sponge over the back of his neck. “Jesus.”

  And then, out of nowhere, Daxton began to cry. Not just a couple of tears trickling down his cheek; he was sobbing like a little bitch. Maggie placed her hands on his shoulders and whispered to him like she was trying to soothe an infant.

  He recovered quickly. “I think we need to run.”

  “What?”

  “Not to Mexico or anything. California, maybe? Arizona? He wouldn’t put that much effort into finding me.”

  “No. Absolutely not, Dax. My whole support system is here. You think with a baby on the way I’m going to run away from my parents, my sister, all of my friends? You think I want to change doctors? Are you out of your mind?”

  “Were you listening to me? That whole part about me getting tortured to death? That little detail didn’t sink in?”

  “You said he threatened to torture you to death if anything else went wrong. So don’t mess up again.”

  “I didn’t mess up! You think I messed up?”

  “You know what I meant.”

  “No, actually, I don’t. What are you saying? Should I have held little Sammy’s hand and walked him room to room, holding up the blanket while he checked under the bed?”

  “We’re not running away,” said Maggie. “That’s not an option and I can’t believe you even said it. What if your boss went after my family?”

  “He wouldn’t.”

  “You want to flee across the country because you think he’ll torture you to death, and yet you’re sure he won’t harm my family?”

  “Okay, yeah, I get your point,” said Daxton. “I’m just not feeling good about things right now.”

  Maggie gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead. “If it was Sam’s fault and he’s dead now, there shouldn’t be any more problems, right?”

  “I guess.”

  “Winlaw said he’d kill you if something like this ever happened again. Well, Sam is the reason it happened. So you have nothing to worry about. Just do your job, do it well, and everything will be fine.”

  “Yeah,” said Daxton. He sighed. “Yeah, you’re right.”

  Maggie stood up. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “I need a cigarette.”

  “Seriously?”

  “How am I supposed to quit smoking when you come home a
nd stress me out like this?”

  “Can’t you at least vape?” Daxton asked.

  “It’s one cigarette because the father of my child came home and tried to take me away from my family. Sorry if I’m not feeling all Zen at the moment.”

  “Maybe just half of one.”

  “Maybe you stop bringing drama into our lives and I won’t need any.”

  Maggie left the bathroom. Daxton couldn’t believe he’d cried like that. How pathetic.

  He wished he weren’t so much in love with her. He could jump in his car and get the hell out of town. Never look back. Do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and not have to worry about taking care of anybody.

  But he was madly in love with her, even if she drove him to the brink of insanity on frequent occasions, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

  4

  Allison decided to get the chocolate muffin.

  She’d spent most of her life with the attitude that if she had to deprive herself of human relationships, she sure as hell wasn’t going to deprive herself of delicious food. She got plenty of exercise; she could balance it out. Then, around the time she turned forty, her metabolism said “Adios, bitch!” and abandoned her. Walking around in the woods wasn’t doing it anymore. She suddenly had to do horrible things like not order a chocolate muffin with her coffee.

  But talk of the potential layoffs had continued for the past two weeks, with Jamison insisting that he knew nothing about it but that he’d let them know as soon as he had a whiff of news, he promised. Allison’s intense stress had faded and now was just a mild but ever-present anxiety. There was no reason she couldn’t pop a pill and leave the house for a while.

  She got the muffin and it was everything she’d hoped it would be. This little café made all of their pastries from scratch and you could tell.

  Allison strolled down the sidewalk and did some people watching. An elderly couple walked hand-in-hand, all smiles. They didn’t have the look of a couple who’d spent most of their lives together—Allison wondered if they’d found each other after losing their first spouses.

  A teenager sat on a bench, watching a video on his phone, shaking with laughter. He was clearly self-conscious about it but couldn’t stop himself. The video was simply too funny.

  A young mother held the hand of her hyperactive son, who kept darting around and pointing to things that he excitedly wanted to tell her about. She was only half-listening to him. That was probably necessary to preserve her sanity.

  A man walked out of his apartment building and held the door for a pregnant woman. He looked about thirty; she looked a few years younger. He had faint yellowish-green circles around both of his eyes, as if he’d had a pair of black eyes that were almost healed. There was a definite tension between them.

  As the door closed, the man asked the woman something. She patted her pockets, then opened her purse and began to rifle through it. Allison, walking toward them, slowed her pace. They were random strangers but she was fully invested in how this all played out.

  Up ahead, another man walked down the sidewalk toward them. Short. Thin. A little geeky. Mid-to-late twenties.

  The pregnant woman kept digging through her purse while the man ran his hand through his hair, annoyed. He wasn’t wearing a wedding band. He looked like he really wanted to say something to her but was holding back. Smart man.

  A woman came out of the same building. The annoyed man and the pregnant woman stepped out of her way as she walked down the four steps and took a right turn, walking away from Allison at a quick pace. Not as if she was late for something—she just seemed like somebody who was used to walking fast.

  Now the man did speak. Allison was close enough to hear it.

  “Just forget it.”

  “No, I know it’s in here.”

  “Just forget it, okay?”

  “Fine. Whatever.”

  The pregnant woman closed her purse and slung it back over her shoulder.

  She turned away from him.

  Lost her balance.

  She cried out in surprise, threw out her arms, and fell forward.

  Allison, feeling an intense jolt of panic, lunged toward her.

  Caught her by the shoulders.

  Helped the woman regain her balance.

  “Are you okay? Are you okay?” Allison asked, as the woman’s boyfriend frantically asked the same.

  The woman took a few moments to catch her breath. “Yes, I’m fine,” she said. “Thank you so much. That was my fault.”

  “Thank God you were there,” the man told Allison. “I can’t even imagine how bad that could’ve been.”

  “You sure you’re okay?” Allison asked the woman.

  The woman nodded. “My heart’s in my throat, but yeah.”

  Allison’s panic hadn’t subsided. It was growing worse.

  Because though she’d caught the woman, about an inch had separated her hands from the woman’s shoulders. The woman hadn’t noticed, but Allison couldn’t delude herself into thinking it hadn’t happened. She’d used her curse.

  She hadn’t harmed the woman. But what about her baby...?

  Allison stepped away from her as the tears started to flow.

  “I’m fine, really,” said the woman. “You caught me.”

  “Your baby—!”

  The woman put her hands over her swollen belly. “I didn’t hit my stomach. It’s all okay. It was a clumsy moment and I’m mortified but nothing bad happened.”

  Allison shook her head, distraught. She felt like she was on the verge of completely losing it, which meant that she should probably get away from these people as soon as possible. The man was staring at her as if unsure whether or not they should praise her or try to escape the crazy lady.

  “I need you to make sure the baby’s okay,” said Allison, fighting to get the words out through her sobs. “Go to the doctor. Please.”

  “Nothing happened to the baby,” the woman insisted.

  “Make sure it’s okay,” Allison said. “Right now. Go get the baby checked out. Please just do that for me.”

  “Okay, okay. We’ll go right in.”

  “Thank you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “You didn’t do anything,” the man assured her. “I mean, you’re the hero here. Those were some amazing reflexes.”

  “Make sure your baby is okay. I may have—I might have—please let me know. Call me. I—I don’t have anything to write with.”

  The woman took out her cell phone. “What’s your number?”

  Allison was so flustered and upset that she had to think about it for a few seconds, but she recited the digits and the woman entered them into her phone.

  “Call me as soon as you know,” said Allison.

  “I will. But it’s all good, I promise.”

  Allison hurried off.

  Maybe it was perfectly fine. Would a mother feel it if her baby’s bones were broken inside of her? She would, right? She’d know something was wrong. Maybe Allison was panicking for nothing.

  She didn’t know what she could’ve done differently. She certainly couldn’t have just let the pregnant woman fall down four stairs onto the cement. It was just bad luck, horrific luck, but it wasn’t her fault.

  Except that she’d left the house, she’d put herself in a position where something like this could happen, so it was her fault, and if she’d hurt that woman’s baby she didn’t know how she could live with herself.

  Some people on the sidewalk were stepping far out of her way. She didn’t blame them. She’d avoid the unhinged crying lady, too.

  “Hey!” somebody called out behind her.

  She ignored him and kept walking.

  “Hey! Ma’am? You dropped something!”

  She turned around. It was the short, thin, geeky guy. Allison waited as he hurried over to her.

  “You didn’t drop anything,” he said. “I just wanted you to wait.”

  She spun away from him, but he grabbed her arm.


  “I saw everything. You didn’t hurt that kid.”

  Allison didn’t answer. The guy took a wad of tissues out of his pocket and handed them to her.

  “Thanks,” she said, wiping her eyes.

  “You should sit down.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “No, you should sit down. You’ve had a traumatic experience. C’mon, that bench is empty.”

  He walked her over to the bench. Allison almost considered pulling away and making a run for it, but decided that she really did need to calm down. They both sat down.

  “I’m Cody,” he said.

  “Allison Teal.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Allison Teal.” Cody shook her hand. “I’m not in the habit of talking trash about pregnant ladies, but she wasn’t paying attention. It was one hundred percent her fault. It’s like the guy said: you’re the hero in this.”

  “All right.” She wiped her eyes again, and then her nose.

  “The baby’s okay. You didn’t even touch her stomach.”

  Allison shrugged and nodded.

  “One hundred percent her fault,” Cody repeated. “I saw everything. I saw it all.”

  Allison carefully looked at him. His tone was a little strange. “Excuse me?”

  “I said I saw it all.”

  “I heard you. What did you mean by it?”

  “I meant what you think I meant.” Cody’s eyes suddenly widened. “Oh, no, no, no, this is absolutely not going in a blackmail direction, I swear. I get that I sounded sinister. That’s not what I was going for. I promise you that I’m a friend.”

  Allison stood up. “We’re not friends.”

  “Please don’t leave,” said Cody. “I just want to talk to you. I shouldn’t have said anything. I suck at talking to people. All I wanted to do is try to make you feel better. Don’t go yet. Give me one minute.”

  Allison sat back down.

  “You should go out to dinner with me,” Cody said.

  “Are you kidding me? I don’t even know you.”

  “That’s why I said dinner instead of marriage.”

  “No.”

  “I asked wrong. I didn’t even ask—I just made kind of a statement. That was the wrong way to do it. Will you let me take you out to dinner?”