20demayo Chapter 59 Wet Work and Back Channels
Chapter 59 Wet Work and Back Channels
"You won't be on B and E anymore," Johnny said. B and E stood for breaking and entering. It involved breaking into houses or buildings and stealing stuff. Pretty basic crime sh*t.
"I won't?" I said. "Why?"
"You aged out. You know I only use people who can't get tried as adults for B and E," he said.
"Right. Then what will I be doing," I said.
"Wet work," he said, handing me a gun with a silencer attached. Wet work meant murder for hire.
"Hmm. I mean, obviously I have to do it, but can we keep it to bad people? No innocents and no kids. I won't do it," I said. "Oh, and I won't need the gun."
"I wasn't planning on having you doing any innocents or kids. Bad people only. Agreed. Why won't you need a gun?" He said, with an eyebrow raised.
"I'm a lot stronger than I was before," I said. "Give me a quarter."
"Ok," he said, taking a quarter out of his change jar and handing it to me.
I took it and folded it in half. Then I folded it in half again and handed it back to him. He looked at it and looked at it, like it was some kind of trick he was going to figure out. He put it down on the desk and then got out a magnifying glass.
"What are you doing?" I said.
"Each one is worth about a hundred dollars. But you'll have to melt them down and turn them into bars before you can move them unless you want some very dangerous people on your ass. Oh, and when you're asking around, stay away from anyone from Sanguis Fluid Dynamics. They're the ones who tried to kill me."
"You have ten thousand of these things?" He said.
I nodded.
"Intriguing. And I don't say intriguing very often. I'll ask around about it," he said.
"Back channels," I said.
"Back channels," he mumbled back to me while he stared at the coin.
I went to the club that Chad always came to watch his ex girlfriend dance. He never made overt advances towards her in the club so he never got kicked out, but sometimes he would follow Chelsea home and stand outside her door without knocking.
She knew this because she would look through the peephole and he'd just be standing there. She was deeply afraid he would do something someday and so she hired me to keep her safe, in a sense.
I sat at the bar and ordered a beer. I looked towards the stage at the seats surrounding the stage and spotted Chad. He was watching Chelsea dance just like she said he would be.
Did this guy have no life? He couldn't have a job if he was doing this everyday. Maybe he did have no life. Maybe she used to be his life, until he messed up and got abusive.
Despite how sad and pathetic it was, I didn't feel sorry for Chad or men like him. They all dug their own grave and then refused to lay in it. And they would keep going regardless of who they hurt in the process of trying to make themselves feel better.