18 days had passed since he had told me his "secret". Those days led to me essentially moving in with him. It was also enough for me to humanize him from being the monster hat I had thought he was. He had done things like buy groceries for a struggling mother who got her card declined at the local supermarket. He would give the homeless money and hand kids who looked like they needed help cash. It wasn't uncommon for mob, cartel, and gang members to put their money back into the community. It didn't make up for how they were destroying it with the number of drugs they were flooding the streets with, but it was better than what some politicians did.
What concerned me was my interest in Aurelio. He had shown me such a dark side of him that night. I could remember the crimson stains that ran down his hands and the glare he had when he looked down at the green-haired man. Since then, he has showered me with affection. There were flowers, gifts like a new suitcase, and he would sneak money into my wallet. If any of my ex's had treated me the same way, they wouldn't have been my ex.
He had become more open with his activities, I couldn't capture all of it on recorders because I spent far too much time naked. Luckily I had placed a few voice boxes, as I called them, around the mansion. He did not tell me outright where he was going when he left me with just the maids in the house, but left enough of a hint for me to remain innocent.
I sat in an office; it was small and in the quietest part of the house. There was a large bay window that allowed a view of the side of the house. The desk was a large slab of wood mounted to the wall and the monitor also mounted. The plush white desk chair cradled me, almost as comfortable as the bed in my apartment.
I had an article I had been writing for my fake job on the screen. I hated writing so when I was told that it would have made the best freelance cover; I cringed, knowing a moment like this would show up. Instead of looking at the screen, I stared at the tattoo on my arm with the initials OME.
They were my dad's initials tattooed on the inside of my elbow. It had been a short but painful session. I thought back to why I had gotten the artwork. It was nineteen and one day I couldn't remember the feeling of my father's stubble on my face when we hugged. The fear of forgetting made me go out and get a permanent reminder.
Looking back up at the monitor, I wondered what type of encryption he had on his computer. If I clicked onto the file folder docked on the taskbar, would he notice? I decided against it and went back to typing. Aurelio had asked to see some of my fresh writing. This unlike the previous request he had made of me was not a test. I knew he was feeling me out when he threw the party. Little had he known the gloves were off, I had been told to do whatever I needed to get his boss so that was what I planned on doing.
The article was a prompt the agency had made for me. It was an article focusing on all weather fashion choices. The disguise department had written out so that all I had to do was transcribe it in my vernacular. I wished they had chosen an interesting subject because every word was driving me insane. My phone which I kept on me at all times vibrated, I quickly pulled it out seeing a blocked number. Only the agency had this number and would call if it was a random check in. They sent a text to make it seem like I had friends calling me or they would pose as robot callers to make me seem more realistic. The door was closed, so I answered but kept my tone hushed, "Hello."
"Agent Eaton, this is Parker you haven't checked in for two days." I irritated her. It was like she was pumping her frustration through the phone line and letting it drown me. "I'm sorry he has been around for the last two days and won't leave me alone at night."
If I had a mirror, I would know I would have seen myself blushing at the thought of the things he did to me in bed. I hated the man, but he had been my best sexual experience.
"Hmm, are you getting too attached? The goal is to minimize sexual acts whenever possible. Have you been using the pills I gave you?" She calmed to her normal emotionless state. "Once, but he gets all of his food prepared or cooks it himself freezes it so he would see the white powder if I tried adding it to that food. I just can't risk getting caught, especially when I am so close to becoming a fixture in his life. He's beginning to trust me. He leaves breadcrumbs around, you guys hear what is being said."
The work I was doing was unconventional, but it was working. We had more than enough to complete the mission if the job was to get most of Aurelio's companions off the street. "I don't like doing things off the books like this, it makes for fuzzy ethics, I will agree. But, you have to acknowledge that what we are doing is working, have we caught anyone yet."
"We got two of the falcons trying to distribute about twenty thousand in profit to Fort Worth. They aren't talking since they are still more afraid of their leadership than they are of us. What I worry about is your state of mind. I've done work much like yours before, and I know how it can warp your thinking. If you feel that you are too deep remember that you can change careers, learn a new skill but you can't bring your psyche back to perfect when it's shattered."
Shattered. I wondered what had made her feel like her psyche had been irreparably damaged. I did not bother asking; it was too personal of a question and I didn't know her well enough to ask those sorts of questions. "I promise that I will tell you if I feel like I can't carry out this mission without compromising myself more than I already have."
I don't know why I added promising verbiage to my statement. I had learned at Quantico that you can't promise things you aren't at least eighty percent sure you can deliver. Promises were something you told children that needed reassurance, not something an agent said to another agent.
Parker did not respond to what I had said, "Check in by text from now on using the codes. Don't make me pull the plug on this."
She didn't say goodbye; the line went dead, and I pulled the device from my face and looked at the red screen before putting the phone back in my pocket. She had given me a lot to think about, but I wasn't able to dwell on it. Aurelio would be back home at noon, meaning I had less than an hour and a half to both finish and memorize the article enough to argue the main points.
The agency had sent me to a writing course to prepare for the case where I learned the importance of argument in writing. I needed to know the who, what, when, where, why, and the how's of the topic. With that I could form an opinion, and when you had an opinion, you could defend it. It had not been easy in the crash course, and it was no easier now that I was trying to form an opinion on something I had not written myself.
By the time Aurelio walked into the office wearing jeans, one of his many white shirts, and expensive sneakers, I was spent. He brought the scent of pine that mixed well with the cider scent of the wax melts the maids had dropped on the many warmers around the house. My eyes were dry from staring at the screen for so long, I felt like I was back in college trying to write a paper for my criminal justice classes.
"Afternoon baby," he said. He had taken to calling me by a pet name only a week ago, I hated how it made my heart thump in my chest. Something about being claimed by him made me feel a way that I couldn't describe. It was wrong to feel that way, I had to tell myself. It was criminal to act on those feelings. We walked over to me with the confidence of a god and grabbed me by the shoulder, pulling me to my feet.
I hugged him back, feeling his strong muscles surround me. He pulled away, and I looked down at his hands; I had observed that his hands were the best way to tell if he had been up to no good. He hit his victims until they were bloody, something about his uncle telling him not to stop fighting until he drew blood and they were no longer moving. This wasn't a surefire way to tell since the man who wore bowling shirts, Tony, perpetrated most of the violence.
"Where were you," I asked and positioned myself as jealous rather than inquisitive. I was trying to play up an attachment to him. He shook his head and kissed me on the forehead, "Don't worry your pretty little head, I went to get one car detailed and see some of my friends for a workout. You've had me neglecting my people lately." He bit his lip and stared down at me. I knew where he was trying to take it, and I wanted to implement a new technique of diverting sex.
"I want to go out and eat. You went with your friends but didn't think I would want to go?" I crossed my arms and pouted, my lower lip pushed out and my brows drawn downward.
Hope I'm not overdoing it.
"How about I take you on a date? A real one in public so we won't end up naked," he suggested. I rolled my eyes, "I guess that can work." He rolled his eyes at me before he pulled me into another hug. I laughed when he gripped my butt roughly before releasing me.
"Get ready, we can go for an early lunch. I'm thinking about having steaks?" He stepped back and waited for me to respond. "Oh shit, let me see your article." He bounced his way over to me to stop himself from falling after turning so fast. I stepped back, letting him take a seat. He scrolled to the top of the article and began reading. I was eager to see how he would respond.
The Farm had taught me that even the things you found insignificant were the most important. If my writing was not to the level of someone who lived off what they wrote, it would wear a whole into the fabric of my lies. It took him three minutes to read through the paper and when he finished; he looked up at me. Nothing about him had changed, but he looked like he had questions for me.
"So scarves, a year round accessory." Sarcasm dripped in his tone.
"Shut up," I laughed watching him trying to restrain a smile. "It pays the bills." His hands went up into the air while still laughing. I sucked my teeth like he had annoyed me when I had the same feelings about what I had written.
"I mean if you need money that bad I could slide you a few bills," he said after he calmed down. He had gotten serious and his hands rested on my waist, "I go you."
I placed my hands on his wrists and looked down at him. "I'm no different from any other college graduate with tons of debt and no real job opportunities. I'm surviving, I don't need help."
"Bullshit," he said, pulling me closer. "I want to help you out. I got all this money and nothing to do with it." He had gotten used to buying people's affection at some point in his life. Normally that stemmed from early childhood relationships being based on reciprocity. "Is the money even clean. I like you but I can't have the federal government coming after me over some dirty money."
"Trust me the money is as clean as the money you get from an honest job. I'm not putting you in any position that you don't want to be in," he said, releasing my waist. "Anyway, get dressed, I'm hungry from this morning's workout and it's cheat day."
He spent two hours everyday working out. In the morning, he would do conditioning and the night was for gains, as he called it. I nodded, internally I cursed, wanting for him to tell me more about how they cleaned money. It was a critical piece of their organization that we could not get. If we could stop their money legitimization, we would have an easier time shutting them down. Criminal organizations thrived off greed, so when the money stopped coming the organization would quickly degrade.
Turning the computer off, I wondered once again of the harm in going through the computer but decided against it. The risk over reward was too great for me to justify doing it. Leaving for the bedroom, I went to his closet. It was the large walk in type with a lounge seat and all of his things had been color coded. He had sent for more clothing for me so I had to look through the expensive garments and found tan shorts and a graphic button up that matched with my black shoes.
Shedding my pajamas, I put the stylish clothes on, then went to the sink and washed my face off. I had to lather my exposed skin in sunblock so I wouldn't get a burn since there was very little shade around. I left out the room and went to the living room where Aurelio had a game controller in his hands. Gunshots rang from the speakers as he took down a few guys in military fatigues. When he saw me he paused the game, throwing the controller to the side before standing.
"Let's head out." I followed him to his Tesla and went to a restaurant that looked fancy. It wasn't too late in the afternoon, but the parking lot was almost at capacity. I should have expected as much on a Sunday. We walked in, and Aurelio spoke to the host for a few seconds before handing him a bill. Though the waiting area was full, we were the next to be called. I didn't like cutting, but I also had no desire to wait all afternoon.
The host escorted us to a booth that could fit two other people. A waiter came over immediately, probably hearing that her host had gotten quite the bribe. We both ordered water, needing to stay hydrated in the heat. This was a first date, and I hated first dates, even though we had gotten to know each other better it felt awkward.
"Stop looking so nervous you already know I don't bite, unless you want me to."
I chided myself for letting my guard down. I would have to play to the nerves since an abrupt attitude change could be suspicious.
"Sorry this is weird, we have been together for days now but this is the first time we've had a romantic public moment together. Is this place even safe for that?" My hands played with the edge of the menu cover.
"I don't care what anyone thinks about what we're doing." He pulled my hand into his. He lifted my hand to his lips before placing it back on the table. "Has anyone messed with you about it? Are your parents cool with you liking dudes?"
"No one ever bullied me for being gay or anything. My parents didn't care about it when I told them. I had expected them to, but they already knew before I told them." I said, thinking back to sitting on our blue couch and looking at my parents face as they tried not to laugh at my confession.
"That's cool, my familia was not as kind." His face hardened. It surprised me when he slipped into Spanish, since he rarely spoke the language in front of me. "Did they hurt you?" I kept my voice low, not wanting anyone to hear something so private.
"They tried."
He shrugged and then looked down to his open menu. I copied his action and decided that I wanted a small filet mignon and shrimp. "Your dad passed correct," Aurelio asked. We had talked a bit about our childhoods, but not much since it was a loaded topic on both ends.
"Yeah he did," I said, I heard the emotion in my voice and tried to keep it in. "Can I ask how?" I ran my tongue over my teeth before speaking, "Someone broke into our house one night so he tried to protect me and my mom. They ended up shooting him over three hundred dollars in cash and out TV." I said, I didn't allow myself to picture the moment because I did not want to cry anymore about it.
"Damn, I'm sorry for your loss. I didn't know you would say something like that, I wouldn't have asked," he apologized. I waved him off as the waitress came back over. I told her my order and Aurelio asked for a Texas sized steak with a potato. I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, it was in the zig-zag pattern which let me know that it was a message from Facebook.
Curious and looking for a distraction, I pulled out my phone and saw that my mother had messaged me. I unlocked it and told her I was busy. My face must have shown my annoyance because Aurelio cleared his throat. "Is everything all right."
"Yeah it's just my mom asking me for some money," I said. He tilted his head, not understanding why that would annoy me. "If you need some to help her, I can do it."
There he went again, trying to buy my affection. "I don't send her money, she's an addict." She had been since the day after my father's funeral.
"Sorry to hear that," he said. I looked up at him and saw the concern plain on his face. "What's she addicted to?" I didn't know if I wanted to answer that question, of course I had to, but still. I was giving a lot of myself to this mission, how much of my scars was I expected to show to a criminal.
"My mom has used heroin since my dad's funeral. It's been eleven years, she hasn't been sober since." Aurelio nodded, "How was she before she got addicted to drugs?"
"God she was beautiful. I look more like my dad than her. She used to have bright green eyes, long dark hair, and a beautiful smile. Now, she looks like a ghost; skin wrinkled, eyes dull and red, and missing teeth. She used to be my teacher, she got her degree and never used it other than homeschooling me so I wouldn't fall behind during our moves. Now she can barely focus enough to read much more than pill bottles. She's staying in Florida with her sisters and calls when she needs something."
"That sucks, I wish that hadn't happened to you. I figured you had it rough, but I didn't know how. Sorry for getting into your business." he said. He returned his hand to mine while I forced myself not to shed a tear.
"So how do you feel about what I do for a living?" He whispered.
"You didn't put the needle in her veins, so this has nothing to do with you. I will not lie and say I'm happy you are selling the stuff that is killing my mom, but I will look past that. I see you as more than what you do."
Most dealers didn't put drugs in people's bodies, but they supplied them. My body warmed with anger I couldn't show. Organized crime was something I had grown passionately adverse. Gangs perpetrated violence, provided poison to communities, and thought they were above the law.
Even as those thoughts crossed my mind, and the anger raged within, I could not think about Aurelio in that way. He had shown me he was a monster, so why couldn't I treat him like that? What made this mission different from the only other one I went on? Why was I getting attached?
"How about we talk about you now, I said, plastering a smile on my face. He knew it was face but began talking about his life in Honduras and Tennessee, leaving out the incriminating portions since we were in public. I nodded and responded while trying to refocus my mind on the aim of the mission. Find the boss, and bring the organization down from the top.