by Hadena James
My searches that night were unhelpful. I couldn’t find anything that matched what The Butcher had described exactly. But then I wasn’t sure I could remember every detail he had written. It was a catch-22 situation.
I had ordered in dinner that night. One of the security guards had brought it up. His comment as I had taken the food was that I was just like my cousin.
With that reminder, I wandered up to her apartment. It was five floors above mine. I found her eating Chinese take-out. I plopped into a dining chair with my Mexican take-out.
“How was the first day?”
“Uneventful. I’m not sure I can do this job. Today, Lucas told me that we would just have to wait for him to kill again before we could make any progress. I’m not sure I’ll be very good at that.”
“Unfortunately, that’s how it goes sometimes.” She shrugged and forked in a mouthful of beef with broccoli.
“Is it easier for you? Easier because you only deal with the aftermath?”
“If you think my job is at all easy, you must have checked out the day you did job shadowing in high school.” Nyleena, like most of the members of my family, should have belonged to a different generation. She was twelve years my senior.
“That isn’t what I meant. I meant that because you don’t have the waiting and the worrying about what is going to happen next, is it somehow more fulfilling?”
“Some people are born to capture the monsters, others, like me, are born to put them away. None of our jobs are easy, but we can’t imagine doing anything else. You know I was offered a corporate gig several years ago. I would have been making a million dollars a year. I’m still here; I don’t make that in ten years.”
“You think I was born for this?”
“I do, you have been doing it all your life and just didn’t know it. Now, you’ll get paid for it.”
“You are my own personal, twisted Jiminy Cricket.”
“I know, are you going to eat that?” She pointed to the guacamole.
“Not in this lifetime.”
“Good, give it here, I’ll keep it for lunch tomorrow. There’s a Mexican place that delivers to our office and they never remember the guac.”
“Ok. Doing anything tonight?”
“I have a date in a couple of hours. Why?”
“Just wondering. Here or there?”
“There. He doesn’t live in secure housing.”
“Ok, be safe.” I left Nyleena’s apartment.
Nyleena still maintained relationships of a sort. She didn’t get serious, but she had “friends” that she hooked up with when time and interest allowed. I didn’t have that. I had shut off that part of my life a long time ago. I didn’t even have the urge or drive or desire to be with another person anymore.
Mine had become a solitary life, with occasional interruptions by my mother, Malachi or Nyleena. I had had acquaintances in Washington, but they would disappear within the year. Most would disappear immediately, since my apartment had been broken into and I had killed someone as a result. But I was used to that too.
My apartment was quiet. The computer making the only noise. I loaded up some of my favorite TV shows and sat back to watch the reruns.
I awoke sometime in the wee morning hours. There was a scratching noise outside my apartment. I grabbed one of the new guns from the table and walked to the door. I saw nothing through the peep hole, so I opened it.
Nyleena was curled up on the floor, snoring. She smelled of wine. I smiled, dragged her inside and put her in my bed. She was built like me; it was the only thing that denoted us as family.
I went back to the couch, turned on another episode of Waiting for God and fell back asleep.
“My head,” Nyleena’s voice came to me from the other room. It wasn’t dawn yet. The room was still dark.
“Shouldn’t drink so much.”
“Oh my, did I get drunk? Aislinn? What the hell?”
“Confused are you?”
“A bit.”
“You showed up on my doorstep instead of your own last night. So I put you in my bed. You snored the entire time I was moving you. How much did you have to drink and how did you get home?”
“Oh dear, he’s in my apartment.” She moaned.
“I thought you were going out?”
“I was and then decided I’d just have him come over. I had a very nice bottle of pinot and I knew I couldn’t drink it and drive.” She closed her eyes.
“He fell asleep in my bed, so I left and came here. I remember getting in the elevator. I don’t remember getting out.”
“Did you drink the entire bottle?”
“No, we drank the entire case.” She rubbed her eyes. “Tell me it’s Saturday.”
“You’re lucky, it’s Saturday. So, your date is still in your apartment and you’re in mine.”
“I hate when they sleep over.”
“I know you do. Here,” I handed her some Pamprin and a glass of water. I had discovered in college it was great for hangovers. “Take these, drink this and go back to bed.”
Nyleena popped the Pamprin, drank the water and stopped. She looked at herself.
“I have extra PJs in my closet. I hung them all up since I don’t have a dresser yet.”
“Thanks,” she went into my room.
“Do you want me to go roust your date out of bed?”
“No, he’ll wake up and leave when he realizes I’m not there. He always does.”
“Ok, nighty night.”
“Night, Aislinn.” Her snoring was almost instant.
There were moments I envied Nyleena. She could have frivolous relationships and human contact without worrying about them being a serial killer. I had gotten to the point where I was almost suspicious of everyone I met.
Sleep came quickly, but didn’t stay long. My phone began vibrating on the coffee table. It vibrated itself off onto the carpet. I fumbled for it in the dark.
The display had a number I didn’t recognize, but at 5 a.m., it was unlikely to be a telemarketer. I hit the button to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Bags packed? We roll out as soon as you get to the airport. Lucas and Xavier are on their way to get you.” Alejandro came over the speaker.
“He’s struck again then.”
“He has.” The line disconnected. I scribbled a note for Nyleena. I had done as I was told and packed a bag for three or four days and sat it near the door.
The intercom buzzed, “Ms. Cain, your ride is here.”
“I’ll be right down,” I said, locking the apartment behind me. Nyleena had a set of keys. It had come with two sets.
Chapter 15
