Incriminate Me

10: Five is hot

I can't seem to form the words. I can't seem to fully comprehend what would happen if I am not here by this time tomorrow. In the night the idea is too big for me to compartmentalize.

"You know I always loved you, right?"

The unspoken- 'even during the divorce when you almost drowned in your own puke' goes unsaid.

Her voice becomes slightly more alert,

"You aren't usually the one for such mushy theatrics? You needn't be jealous of Carmella, she is older than you, it is expected that she will get married first."

I wipe the tear with the back of my hand.

"Yeah I know. It just makes me think, that's all."

She sighs wistfully,

"When I got engaged, I was terrified. I gave up my job at the office and got prepared to be a wife. Thinking back, I'm not sure if that was the best or worst decision I ever made."

Sometimes I forget just how good she is at hiding how she feels. I had to have gotten it from someone.

She continues,

"Those first 2 decades with your father were the best of my life. Oh god though, so much can change so fast."

I don't say that for most of those years the booze slept with her more than my dad did. Because she probably already knows that, deep, deep down.

I consider telling her that I am worried that I am falling out of love with Tanner. That I am caught up in something so big and terrible that I cannot comprehend the extent of just how royally fucked I am. That I am a disgrace, a stupid girl who played into the devils hand and turned into the jester. The fool.

That I got the horrible desire to fling myself into the pit of hell just for the fun of the fall from her.

She clears her throat,

"Well goodnight dear. Remember to act surprised when your sister calls!"

I go to say bye but she ends the call before the word can be strangled from my lips.

The day creeps by, scraping against my nerves. Every second feels like an hour. I throw up twice and give up on the concept of food after the second time. Sleeping last night was out of the question. The lack of sleep over the past three days grates against my sanity. My knuckles are white against my phone, clutching it like a weapon.

The caffeine and adrenaline battle for dominance in my blood stream, roaring in my ears.

The meeting is at the same time the last one was, 3:30pm.

I leave the building for my lunch break and just walk.

I remember Ace laying out what I should say and do. He instructed me clearly to say that I may be able to help, but that I don't know much. To mention 'Carlson Morten' as a name that I had overheard. He said to tell them that they don't care for me much, but are threatening to take my life and make it look like a suicide. He gave me a pointed look and said,

"A few tears at that point would be perfection,"

As if I can summon them upon demand. He pushed the fact that I shouldn't say much, to prove to them that I need to stay alive to get more information.

His tone had the chilling hint of a threat beneath each sentence. A reminder that if I had to choose a side to double cross he is not the one I should pick.

I show up 3 minutes past 3:30.

Aito lounges against the counter speaking lowly to the cashier, an easy smile on his lips. He doesn't acknowledge me as I head for our booth. I take off my jacket and sit down, fingers playing at the frays of my purse, the knife's metal is inches away.