Shapeless

by Glenn Bullion

  He'd taken a step back toward the club when he paused. Steve told him to go home. That actually wasn't a terrible idea. It was nearly one in the morning, and if he was honest with himself, he wasn't having a great time. He only came for Lily, and she was inside having fun with the rest of her friends.

  He didn't fit in, and the fact didn't sting like it sometimes did. He never fit in. How could he? There was no one else like him.

  Brady turned and walked down the sidewalk, away from the club. The beer on his shirt smelled terrible. He pulled both his shirts off and held them outright, away from him. The fabric changed into his essence, merging with his hand, which the beer couldn't stick to. The alcohol plopped to the ground with a small splash, and two new identical shirts molded onto his torso. He was completely dry. Never having to worry about wet clothes was one of the perks of being a freak. Only a couple walking on the opposite side of the street witnessed the event, and Brady truly didn't care.

  He'd call Lily in the morning, lie about getting sick and needing to leave. She probably wouldn't even notice he was gone, until it was last call.

  CHAPTER 15

  "Where's Brady?"

  Lily had been searching for a half hour, and couldn't find her friend anywhere. She went to the front where she last saw him, but he wasn't there. Several times she thought she spotted him in the mass of grinding bodies, but by the time she pushed her way through the crowd, he was gone. She was starting to worry. Brady was an adult, a security guard, quite capable of handling himself, but she could tell he wasn't comfortable in the club setting.

  She never should have left him.

  Steve gave the impression he only wanted a quick chat, but that wasn't the case. The drink offers came, then he asked to dance. His apology for searching through her bag seemed to go on forever. Then he finally spilled his heart, told her he wanted to take her out on a date. She tried to let him down as gently as possible, told him she simply wasn't interested in seeing anyone at the moment. He didn't take it well, and went on his way. She was more concerned about Brady.

  Emma managed to peel herself away from her boyfriend when Lily tapped her on the shoulder.

  "Hey, Kissy-Face. Have you seen Brady?"

  "Yeah." She gestured wildly to the front. "He just left."

  Lily thought she misheard.

  "What?"

  "He was hitting on a woman. Then Steve threw a beer on him, and he walked out."

  She shook her head, not quite believing what she was hearing.

  "What?!"

  "Hey, just reporting what I saw."

  "How the fuck did you see anything with your tongue down your man's throat?"

  She nearly growled as she turned. Before she could walk away, Emma snatched her wrist. Emma tried to speak, but only giggled as her boyfriend cupped the back of her knee and ran his tongue along her neck. Lily was growing impatient, watching them play with each other.

  "Don't mess this up," Emma finally said.

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Brady. Don't fuck it up."

  Lily could guess what her friend was hinting at.

  "Emma, we're just friends—"

  "Bullshit." She gestured to her dress. "You don't make yourself pretty for a friend. And you've never been so happy since I've known you."

  Lily took in her words, but only for a moment. She didn't have time to reflect. She had to find Brady before he hopped a bus home.

  She made her way to the front door. Steve tried to approach her one last time, but she scowled as she moved past him without a word. Her face must have spoken of anger and evil, as he finally got the message, and slithered away.

  Her feet ached as she looked up and down the street. She didn't normally wear flats, always reaching for sneakers instead. The flats weren't very comfortable, pressing her toes together.

  She sighed in relief and irritation as she saw a familiar figure not far away, near the end of the block. Relief because she recognized him. Irritation because she had to run to catch up.

  "Brady!" she called. "Wait up!"

  He didn't hear her and kept on his way. Lily jogged after him, but the form-fitting dress wasn't the best for moving quickly.

  "Hey, Brady!" she tried again.

  Finally, he heard his name and stopped to turn around. He was surprised to see her, letting out that smile. She limped her way toward him, with Brady meeting her halfway. Her right pinky toe throbbed in pain. He held her by the arm to keep her steady while she massaged it.

  "Thanks," she said. "These shoes are killing me. What's going…." She trailed off when she noticed his clothes. "I heard Steve threw beer on you."

  "He missed." Frowning, he nodded toward the club behind her. "Look, Lily, I'm sorry, but that whole thing back there. It's just not for me."

  Lily put her hands on her hips and leaned away, flustered. She tried to be sympathetic, but couldn't help feeling their friendship was very one-sided. They constantly spent time together, but on his terms, at his apartment. They never did anything she wanted to do.

  "Oh, wow," she said. "Not even going to try? Just going to run home and slap in one of your movies? Pull on your dick?"

  It was Brady's turn to be flustered. He threw his hands in the air and rolled his eyes.

  "For the love of Christ. I don't watch porn. Okay? Can we stop with that finally?"

  She laughed sarcastically.

  "Brady, you buy a porno every week. Hell, sometimes I even pick one out—"

  "I know what I do. I buy. I collect. I don't watch."

  This was new information she almost couldn't comprehend.

  "You buy movies, and don't watch them?"

  "They're all in my TV stand. Never opened a single one."

  She laughed and shook her head. Brady thought she was laughing at him, and took a step back.

  "God, I'm sorry. I'm not laughing…that's just, the weirdest—"

  "Yeah, I know. We've already figured that out. I'm weird."

  Brady circled slowly in place, taking in his surroundings. Guilt gnawed at Lily. The night wasn't going like she'd hoped.

  "Look, I tried. I really did," Brady said. "But, don't hate me for this, your friends are assholes. Except for Emma. I like Emma. But as long as your friend Steve wants to get in your dress, and sees me as some kind of roadblock, I'm never really going to fit in."

  Lily opened her mouth to protest, but stopped. Slowly, the sad truth finally came to her.

  "Shit. You're right."

  Brady was equally surprised.

  "I am?"

  "Emma is really the only one I know. She's the only one that looks out for me. Besides you. And Steve isn't my friend."

  "Then why do you come out here?"

  "Because I like dancing. I like partying. But if Emma weren't here, shit, I'd probably…."

  Brady took a guess at the rest of her thought.

  "Hide in a living room? Like me?" He backed up another step. "Look, I'm sorry if I messed up your night. Didn't mean to. Go back in there and dance your ass off." He smiled again, and her heart melted. "I wasn't kidding when I said you're gorgeous."

  He turned and walked away, but didn't get far. Lily was at his side in a second, looping her arm around his and pressing close to him.

  "Nope. Change of plans."

  "Huh?"

  "There's a Starbucks down the street. We're going to sit, drink some coffee. Then we're going to dance right in the middle of the place."

  Brady leaned his head back and laughed.

  "Dancing in a Starbucks. That's—"

  "Weird. Yup."

  "Lily, I'm not trying to take you away from your friends."

  "You're not. I'll text Emma. Somehow, I think she'll be okay. They have more than enough room to drive home in the other cars."

  "If you say so."

  "I say so."

  The pair walked slowly together in silence. Lily thought of what he said, that he didn't fit in. She wondered if he had it all wrong, that she was the
one who didn't fit in. She was ever only really comfortable, truly herself, when she was with Brady. Like she told him before, he fit in with her, and that was all she cared about.

  She leaned her head on his shoulder. Brady loosened his arm from hers, and she thought she overstepped her bounds. But he wrapped an arm around her bare shoulders and squeezed her before offering his arm once again. Butterflies danced in her stomach. She didn't know exactly what she was thinking, feeling, but she knew she liked it.

  "Damn," Brady said. "There's something I forgot to tell you."

  "What's that?"

  "I don't drink coffee."

  She smiled and reached for his hand, lacing her fingers around his.

  "Neither do I."

  "No problem. We'll find—"

  The van screeched to a halt next to them, interrupting Brady. Lily had barely turned her head when the side door swung open, and two men jumped out. The first thing she noticed were the black masks, revealing only their eyes. Something terrible was happening.

  Brady turned and tried to shield Lily from the men. He backed up, pressing into her.

  "What the fuck—?"

  One of them swung a rifle, catching Brady in the jaw. He fell to one knee and nearly collapsed. Lily went to reach for him, to protect him, but the second man lunged toward her. He forced a dark sack over her head. Her arms were pinned behind her, and her feet left the ground. The wind rushed out of her when the man tossed her over his shoulder.

  "Brady!" she called, trying to turn her head from side to side. "Brady, are you okay—?"

  Pain shot through her arm as she was dropped on her side. She could see nothing, but heard the van door sliding shut. There were more men now, more than two, that shouted at each other. It took a moment for Lily to realize it wasn't English. Her legs bumped into something next to her, someone on the van floor.

  "Brady?" The tears in Lily's eyes stung. "Is that you?"

  Seconds passed, which felt like hours. Finally, there was the familiar voice.

  "Yeah."

  There was a sick thud, followed by a grunt of pain. Then another thud. They were beating Brady. Lily lashed out with her legs, at where she thought the attackers were.

  "Get away from him!"

  A hand grabbed her ankle and violently turned her on her stomach, ripping her dress in the process. Her wrists were pulled behind her, and she thought her arms would rip from the sockets. Cold steel enclosed her wrists, and a hand rubbed the back of her leg before moving away. Laughter, followed by more talk she didn't understand.

  Terror that she never knew filled her. Horrible memories flooded back. Alyson's dead eyes, looking up at her. Had her past finally caught up with her?

  "Brady?" She bordered on panic. "Are you there?"

  His voice was strained. "I'm here. What the hell?"

  Lily wiggled and pushed with her feet. It wasn't easy to move with her wrists cuffed behind her. She bumped into the side of the van, and what felt like Brady. She pressed into what she thought was his hip. He struggled as well. She could feel his arm, trapped behind him. He was also handcuffed.

  She shook her head, trying to free herself from the hood, but it didn't move. Scooting across the floor, she pressed deeper into Brady, if only to feel safe. It didn't work.

  "Can you see anything?" he asked. "They put a hood on me."

  "No."

  "Hey!" Brady said. "Guys, I think you have the wrong people. I don't know who you're looking for, but trust me, we're not them."

  More words. Footsteps. A punch, followed by Brady coughing.

  "Stop hitting him!" Lily shouted. She searched around her, trying to stare through the hood. "Help! Someone help!"

  The sound of metal slicing air. Cold metal pressed against Lily's throat. She gasped as she went completely still. Terrible breath flooded over her nose. She steadied herself, trying to prepare for the pain. It never came. Tears streamed down her face.

  "Hey, friend."

  It was Brady. His voice had changed. Steady, strong, maybe even angry. Lily sensed movement in front of her. Whoever held the blade to her throat had shifted his attention to Brady.

  Brady spoke clearly, concisely.

  "You'd better get that fucking thing away from her."

  Laughter. The man threatening them stood up, then ripped their hoods away. Lily gasped for air and frantically looked about. Brady was next to her, in the corner of the van. She pressed her shoulder into his, getting as close as she possibly could, and laced a leg over his own, locking on tight. She wouldn't let them be separated.

  There were four men in the van. They hit a bump as they rounded a corner, throwing Lily and Brady into the air. They couldn't brace themselves as they landed, and their heads struck the back door. Lily latched onto Brady again. She pulled against the cuffs, a useless gesture. The tears kept flowing. What did they want? What were they going to do to them?

  She tried to think rationally, as impossible as the feat seemed. The men all dressed immaculately, with pressed white shirts and coats. Two of them were seated in front while the others watched carefully, gripping the back seats for balance. All of them had gun holsters under their coats, with one having his weapon drawn.

  "Where are you taking us?"

  They didn't answer. Lily's imagination got the better of her. They were going to take them to a remote place, dig a hole somewhere. Maybe torture them, then kill them. All because of a horrible mistake she'd made.

  "Did…Mattie send you?" she asked.

  Brady turned and looked at her with curiosity.

  "Mattie?"

  Lily didn't elaborate. She wanted to. She wanted to tell Brady everything. If anyone could handle the truth about her, he could. She knew this.

  But she didn't have it in her.

  "I'm so sorry," she said, trying not to sob. "We're going to die."

  Brady said nothing. Looking at him, he had a completely different expression than she expected. He was stoic, almost thoughtful. He studied the men with intensity, looking from one to the other. Lily was unnerved, and it took two more wild turns before she figured out why.

  He was calm.

  Then he smiled. It didn't give her confidence. It only made her worry more.

  "Brady?"

  "We're not going to die," he said. "Just trust me."

  "I…do trust you."

  He looked into her eyes, and something ridiculous happened. In the floor of a van, handcuffed, with armed men watching their every move ten feet away, she'd never felt closer to anyone.

  "What language is that? Do you know?"

  "I have no idea."

  He laughed, another odd gesture. Even their captors were caught by surprise.

  "You know, it's funny. I always thought they might come for me. It's really crazy it took them this long."

  "They? Who?"

  "The Men In Black."

  She couldn't believe her ears.

  "Brady, are you serious? Like the Will Smith movie?"

  He rolled his eyes.

  "No. Like the real thing. Forget Hollywood. Behind a lot of UFO and alien investigations, the Men In Black are there. No one knows who they are. Some think they're aliens, too. Others think they work for the government, handling misinformation and discrediting witnesses."

  Lily closed her eyes to protect herself from the madness she was hearing. He sounded just like those idiots on YouTube they watched together in his apartment.

  "What the fuck are you talking about?" She gestured toward them to point out the obvious. "They're not even wearing black."

  "That's not important. They still do the same thing." He continued to study them. "I guess every country has their own."

  "Okay, so back up. Why are they after us? Did you see an alien?"

  For the first time since being dragged into the van, Brady frowned. It wasn't the beating or the handcuffs that got to him, but her question. The sadness in his eyes was almost palpable. If she could, she would have reached out and held him.

&
nbsp; "Every single day."

  She didn't get a chance to question further. The van took another tight turn, throwing Brady into Lily. There was a short break, followed by another turn. Brady's head fell in Lily's lap.

  "What the hell?" she said. "Where are they taking us?"

  "We're not outside anymore. Do you have your phone?"

  "It's in my purse, back in the car."

  The van stopped. One of the men threw the side door open and unsheathed his gun. He didn't say a word, but didn't need to. He gestured with his weapon, motioning to the outside. His associates had already departed.

  "I'll do the talking," Brady said. "Just relax."

  Lily laughed to avoid crying once again.

  "Fucking relax? Yeah, sure."

  Brady struggled to get to his feet without the use of his hands. He walked in a half crouch toward the door and jumped down, landing clumsily on his feet. Lily tried to follow suit, but didn't have as much success. Her flats nearly fell off from the ride, and she was almost to the door when she stumbled. She fell awkwardly on her side, sending a shooting pain through her shoulder. More foreign words, in a disgusted tone, and a pair of rough hands grabbed her by the ankles.

  "Get your hands off her."

  There was a scuffle, and the men shouted harshly. Lily tried to roll to her back. She could barely move, but tried to push aside the pain. She wasn't going to let anyone hurt Brady.

  "Stop," she whispered. "Leave him alone."

  Someone with a much gentler touch felt her back. An arm wrapped around her waist while the men continued to shout. Gingerly, carefully, she was helped to her feet. She ached from the rough ride and the stumble. She had to lean on her left leg.

  Her jaw dropped when she looked up into Brady's eyes.

  The men were a safe distance away, all pointing their guns at them. The handcuffs that only a moment ago secured Brady's wrists lay on the ground.

  They were on the top level of a parking garage, open to the night. The van was the only vehicle nearby. They were panicked, agitated, as they argued with each other.