Counting Paths

Chapter 2.

"I don't. I just need to make sure you won't tell anyone about me or my place."

"I don't even know where I am. And why? Who are you?"

"No one," he mutters. "So...you're not really from around here, huh?"

"I was on a bus for a few hours before I finally got off. I was on autopilot the whole time. Meeting Ryan was an accident."

We fall into silence again. I take the questionable pause to examine the tattoo on his hand. He has a few of them traveling up his large arm, slowly fading with time, but the one scarred on his hand catches my attention the most. It's a clock that looks like it fall from his arm and crashed down on his knuckles.

"Why the clock?" I ask.

The muscle in his jaw clenches. "It's a clock."

"Yeah, I know that. Why is it a clock? And why did you make it so it fall on your knuckles?"

He chuckles dryly. "It's a constant reminder that we're running out of time."

"But doesn't a broken clock usually stop?"

"Usually," he repeats and leaves it at that.

Another ten minutes later, we're pulling in front of a hospital. "Thanks for the ride," I mutter. climbing out of the car. I'm honestly surprised he didn't call for an Uber.

"Sterling," he rushes out.

"Yeah?"

He looks at me like he doesn't want to see me, like he rather be talking to anyone else in the world than me. "Are you going to get help?"

I shrug. "I don't know. Everything happens for a reason, huh? Let's see where going to the hospital takes me."

"You believe in that shit?"

"Yeah. I tried to kill myself in the worse way possible, but here I am, and you saved me from Ryan so..."

He shakes his head. "I didn't save you. Don't make it sound like I'm going to help you again when shit gets too dark for you."

"Fine." I slam the car door shut. I tug the sleeves of my borrowed sweatshirt over my fists as I walk inside the hospital. I still have no clue what I'm doing here so I stroll over to an empty chair in the corner of the waiting area and consider thinking straight.

Roland

I punch the streeling wheel a couple of times before the fucking thing cracks and breaks and the honk gets stuck. I punch it again and it stops. I put the car in drive and then pull onto the main road again. I didn't ask for this shit. Getting rid of Sterling too longer than it fucking should have, but she's gone now, and I can leave all this shit behind me.

"Are you alright?" Kevin asks as I unzip the zipper of the duffel bag with my money. "You didn't even ask about the count."

He's right, I didn't, but I know how to play it off cool. "Would it have mattered? You took care of Ryan, right?"

"Of course-"

"Then if there's money missing, he already paid for it."

I unpack half the bag when he speaks. "I killed him. Where's the girl?"

"You..." I turn and face him. "Who gave you the order to do that?"

"Where's the girl?"

"You have a kid, don't you?"

He nods slowly. "The girl?"

"The hospital." I pull the Glock out of my waistband and place it on the table. "I shouldn't have to ask again, Kevin. Who gave you the order to do that?"

"I did, sir. She's just a kid and everyone knows how fucked-up Ryan is."

"Well, she's fine now. And don't wait a fucking hour to tell me when you go behind my back next time."

He nods. "Yes, sir."

"Count the money. I have to take care of something."

I run upstairs to my room and pull out my second phone hidden in my closet. I call the only number the phone has saved and listen to the annoying ringing as I drop into the armchair.

Right when I think I've run out of time and I'm about to be greeted by a voicemail, they pick up.

"You're late, Roland," Luna sighs into the phone.

"Yeah, I know. I ran into some...trouble, but I'm good now. I'll be there tonight."

"Hell no, Roland!" She snaps. "I told you I don't want you here!"

"Okay, okay." I drag my hand through my hair. "You'll have your money in an hour, then."

"Thank you."

"How's he doing?" I blurt out before she can hang up. There's only silence on her end and I know she's debating on rather or not to answer me. "If you won't let me see him, then at least answer my question."

She makes a sound that's similar to a muffled whimper. "There are no changes," she whispers in a strained voice. "He's not getting any better or worse...he's just...there."

"Luna, I'm looking, okay? I'll find-"

"I gotta go, Roland." She ends the call, leaving me with nothing as always.