Face the Music

Chapter 10

I saw the pure terror in her face. It was the kind of look that I hadn't seen in a long time.

Suddenly I was swept back to my teenage years, before the army.

The gun in the waistband of my jeans burned into the skin of my lower back. I walked into the Chicago convenience store, heart pumping, adrenaline setting my veins on fire. I strolled through the aisles to the front of the store.

A young girl was sitting behind the cash register. She had textbooks open on the counter, a pen stuck behind her ear. She looked up at me with a grin.

"Can I help you?"

"Probably." I pulled the gun and pointed it at her. She sucked in a breath.

"Oh, God. Please..." she held up both hands, palms facing out.

"I'm not going to hurt you. Just open the cash register."

She backed away from me, running into the cigarette display behind her.

"Please don't hurt me." She begged, eyes wide, pleading, and terrified.

"I won't, just open the cash register."

She nodded wildly. The cash register cha-chinged as the drawer opened. I reached forward, pulled out the twenty dollar bills then slowly backed away from the counter.

"Much appreciated," I said. She only stared at me, trembling.

I turned to run, thinking I was about to get away with my few hundred bucks in twenties. Unlucky for me, I ran headlong into a cop, who'd stopped for a Coke. I spent the week in the county jail and was shipped off to basic after that.

Ella's face, not unlike the girl's from the convenience store, brought me back to reality.

"I don't know what you're talking about.." I told her, unconvincingly.

"Don't give me that bullshit. Are you Benjamin Aimes?" She was glaring at me.

I looked down at the paper in her hands. It was a grainy, black-and-white picture of my face, taken from a distance. I was smirking lazily under my expensive tourist sunglasses, completely unaware of the fact that someone was photographing me. Under the photo in black, angry letters it said, BENJAMIN AIMES. WE TOLD YOU TO LEAVE TOWN FOR HER SAKE. YOU DIDN'T. There was a second picture too. The one I'd received from the envelope Tony had delivered. 

"Where'd that come from?" I asked.

"They left it in my pocket." She said, looking at me in fear.

"C'mon, Ella. Anyone could have taken a picture of any random tourist on the beach and written that note on it." I told her, trying to sound innocent. I didn't want to lie to her. In fact, I'd never wanted to tell someone the truth more than I wanted to explain everything to her, but this wasn't her fight, and she didn't need to be put in more danger.

"I don't believe in coincidences. Not like this, anyway," she said, struggling to stand. "And if you're just some random guy, then tell me why they dumped me in your damn hotel room. I want the truth. Right now." She had her feet planted on the floor but her body was swaying. Her bruise colored chest was rising and falling quickly, and I knew she wouldn't be able to keep it together much longer. She was close to falling over again, and I didn't want her to get hurt more than she already was.

"It's...complicated," I said. "Just, please sit down, before you pass out again."

She made no move toward the couch.