Four

13.9K 353 118
                                    

     The first time that the flip phone rang was Saturday, in the middle of dinner with my brother. I hadn't seen him in three years and he was visiting from Omaha. "How's the teaching thing going?" he asked, shoving a forkful of Mac and Cheese into his mouth. I shrugged, "It's going. It pays the bills and gives me food on the table." He nodded along as he chewed, waiting until he swallowed to speak again. "But do you enjoy it?"

    "It's my first real job, Austin. I don't need to enjoy my work yet," I took my plate up and put it in the sink, "What about you? Do you like being a janitor at that company?" "Mind you, I'm still in college. This is temporary," he argued, "You graduated two years ago, at the top of your class! There's no way you can use that bullshit excuse of how-" "Of how I haven't found my niche yet? Yes I can, Austin and I'm going to use it right now. The only thing I was good at was raising you and getting good grades."  A moment's silenced hushed over the kitchen after my remark. Finally, Austin picked up his fork and took another bite of his food before he rolled his eyes and said, "Whatever you say, Andi."

    Once he was done eating, I took his plate from him and scraped the scraps into the trash. As I started to wash the plates, I felt my hair get pushed back and Austin looking at the top of my head. "What happened?" he asked, "Looks like you got pistol whipped."
    I laughed dryly, "I've never seen a gun up close. What makes you think I got pistol whipped? It was some freak baseball accident." It was right then the phone rang and my somewhat jubilant disposition was dropped. "I have to get that," I pushed past my brother and rushed to the bedroom where I put the flip phone. Quickly I picked it up and answered, "Hello?"

    "Cutting it close with answer time, I see," Tom said from the other line. "I'm having dinner with my brother," I explained, "Not the ideal time for me to be on my knees, praying for you to call." "Though seeing you on your knees must be exquisite, I need you to do something for me," he said and I closed my eyes, internally begging for an easy task.

    "I am sending you an address you must go to. There, Harrison will tell you what you must do. You know Harrison, right?" With the last sentence, I felt his slight smile burn through the phone line. Of course I know Harrison, I thought, we're best fucking friends. "What if I don't go?" I asked, receiving a low chuckle from the other end. "You don't hold up your end of the bargain, Reese, you're dead. Be there in thirty minutes," and with that, he hung up. Seconds later, the phone buzzed again and I saw the address he mentioned.

    I walked past Austin, putting on a sweatshirt as I did so. "I'm sorry, man, I'm going to have to cut this short. There's a parent meeting I completely forgot about. I should be back in an hour," I lied as I rushed out. As I closed the door, I heard him mutter about the time and how it was too late for a parent meeting and he was completely right.

    When I pulled into a trailer home, I was sure that Tom had sent me to the wrong place. I expected a five star hotel or some mansion, but a potential meth lab? Out of the question. However, I knew I was in the right as I saw Harrison and another man in front of me, watching as I pulled in. I got out of the car and Harrison greeted me. "No leftovers for us?" the other man said, but I disregarded it.

    "Why are we here and not at your home base or something?" I asked. "You were black bagged when we took you the first time, how do you know this isn't where we do business?" Harrison tilted his head to the side like a lost pup. I folded my arms, "Going by the Rolexes you're subtly showing off, your boss could afford more than a trailer home. Also, there was concrete where I got dragged and I'm standing on grass right now, so I'm getting the idea this is a secondary location."

    Harrison and the man looked at one another before turning to me. "You're good," the man said, "But we're neither confirming nor denying your assumption." "You just confirmed it by saying that," I noted, "Anyway, why am I here?" "There's a man that lives in your complex that does business with us. We need you to take this duffle bag to him and relay a message to him from Tom," the man handed me a black duffle bag. Once he let go, my arm sunk a little from the weight before shouldering it.

Noir (Tom Holland)Where stories live. Discover now