Can't Remember to Forget You

Chapter Three

Owen

"Why the fuck do I have to do it?" I yelled.

Barker spit on the sidewalk then gave me one of his glares. "Donovan was your friend. He got us into this mess, now you're going to get us out." He started to walk up the busy sidewalk heading for one of many newspaper stands.

I trudged along behind him cursing him under my breath. I wouldn't dare do it out loud or Barker wouldn't mind causing a scene right here on the side of the road. You don't cross Barker. Not unless you want to lose your fingers, or worse. I shivered at the thought. "Right, but she doesn't even like me. She hates me actually." I argued.

He didn't even bother to turn his head to respond. He talked with his eyes straight ahead walking in a steady pace. "The whore doesn't have to like you Owen." He said annoyed. "We just need to know what she knows. What she saw or heard." He rambled on. "The least the fuckers could have done was made sure they finished the damn job. Now we have more of a mess to clean up."

I kicked at the sidewalk as Barker bent over and selected a paper and paid the merchant. When he was done he walked on up the street to a small pub and we grabbed a seat at the bar. I looked over to Barker as he read his paper.

Every morning for as long as I can remember this has been the old man's routine.

I'd left home when I was 12. I highly doubt my son of a bitch father even noticed I was gone. Wasn't like he ever took care of me anyways. Only time we interacted at all was if he needed me to bring him another beer.

I lived on the street for only a few weeks before I met Barker.

He was the coolest man I'd ever met then. He reminded me of the gangsters you'd see in old movies.

Every morning at 9 he'd walk past the park bench I had taken up residency on. I'd see him coming, tall and lean with his perfectly pressed suit. Whenever he'd pass he'd tilt his head to me, unlike the other people who tried not to make eye contact with the pathetic kid sitting alone in the park.

One morning he came by, threw me a nice new jacket and told me to follow him.

I've been doing it since then.

Now that I'm 26 though it's become annoying. Sure he has been pretty good to me. He brought me into his home when no one else would. He kept me in clothes, and with food in my stomach. He also introduced me to the "business" too. That was the part I've grown warry of. I don't want to be a thug forever.

I don't want to be Barker one day. 60, 70, however fucking old he is and still doing the same bullshit every day. I'm tired of looking over my shoulder everywhere I go, wondering if today's the day I will finally get it.

Thoughts of Donovan pop into my head but I do my best to force them back out. The guy is dead and gone, no point crying over him.

Barker's gravelly voice pulls me from my thoughts. "Look kid, I know you don't want to do this." He took a large gulp of his bourbon. "This could come back to bite all of us though. What if she talks? I got people up there that tell me she is awake now. What if she spills everything?" He shook his head and turned his glassy blue eyes to me. "Lord knows what that dumbass Donovan told her, or hell, even Kurl's crew." He put his hand on my shoulder like he only does when he is really trying to talk me into something. "Just do this for us kid."

"What is it you're wanting me to do?" I ask, relenting.

"Just go see her." He says it like it is so simple. "Tell the nurses you're her boyfriend, get her alone and fish out what she knows." He turned his eyes away from me again. "If she knows too much, get rid of her." He says nonchalantly. "Otherwise, just make damn sure she knows she better keep our names out of her mouth."

I ordered two shots of jack and downed them as soon as the bartender handed them over.

Sometimes I do wish Barker had never picked me up.

I don't even want to be around this bitch, much less play nice with her to get information.

I stood up from my seat and noisily pushed the stool back under the bar. "Which hospital?"

"She's at Lenox Hill."