I was going back home.
Nobody knew where my home was because I barely knew where it was. The only thing or shall I say the only person holding me there was my mom. I put her in the nursing home ten years ago under an alias. And the only way for the nursing home to contact me was through a message service that I checked from time to time, waiting for the call saying she’s dead.
But I have yet to get it, so I guess she’s still alive.
Maybe she was just waiting on me. Waiting to look me in the eye one more time and blame me for being the reason daddy left. Waiting to hit me one more time for not being the boy my father wanted more than he wanted either of us. Waiting to let me know just how much she hated me before she took her last breath.
After this job, she’ll get her chance if she wasn’t dead. Exhaling I pushed those thoughts from my mind. Those are the kinds of thoughts that can get you killed on a mission. Those were the thoughts I was thinking when the bullet penetrated my flesh the day before yesterday.
I reached in my suitcase for a pair of eyeglasses that would complete the look I was going for and slid them on my face. Then I popped two pain pills in my mouth because my side was killing me. I hadn’t even had time to get it looked at. I had to stitch it up myself, lather it with a tube of Neosporin, and slap a damn bandage over it.
Perks of the job…
When I was prepared, I stepped out the rental car and after locking it, headed toward the building.
“Daaaammmnnn!” Several of the men said as I approached, looking at me as if they had never seen a pretty woman in a two-piece fitted skirt suit carrying a briefcase.
Men…
Jo was right. For as long as I could remember, men have fallen over themselves for my face that did look very innocent, only to end up with their noses broken for thinking I could be taken advantage of. My face was one of the reasons the agency had hired me in the first place. They knew with my innocent looks, I would be able to slip under most people’s radar.
“She look like a sexy school teacher.” One of the men that was holding a red cup in his hand said. Judging by the redness of his eyes he wasn’t drinking juice. I lifted my eyebrow at him checking my watch. Damn, it wasn’t even ten o’clock. The smell of marijuana was also very strong in the air.
“Man, if she was my teacher, I would have stayed in school.” One of the younger guys who looked to be fifteen or sixteen responded. I kept walking as if I didn’t hear them. Blocking the door with both of his hands on the frame was another young man who could be no more that twenty-one or twenty- two.
He wasn’t a bad looking guy. As I approached him, he passed the blunt he was smoking to another man that was much older than him sitting on the stoop. He slowly blew out the smoke as he took me in. When it was clear he wasn’t going to move I stopped, but I bit down on my teeth to hold on to my temper.
Okay, so let me tell you guys why I got fired from the agency. Yes, I have an innocent face that most men consider beautiful. I look soft and approachable. Jo once described me as the girl next door. That being said…I don’t have the constitution to match my looks.
I’m not friendly or soft and I could give a damn about beauty. I have a short fuse and I’m easily irritated. I may have used lethal force a time or two when pushed the wrong way. And I may have used excessive force when one of my directors thought it was alright to grab me and try to force me to kiss him one night while we were all at a bar celebrating the promotion of one of our colleagues. I was aware he was drunk, but it did little to assuage my irritation at his action.
I smashed his face into the bar, breaking it. Anyway, the agency said their hands were tied; I had too many complaints on my record to continue.
I told you guys that story to try and get you to understand what I was going through standing here in front of this civilian, allowing him to get away with his actions.
“How can I help you, sweetheart?” He asked.
“Is your name Romeo Reevers?” For a moment a look of surprise crossed his face before he shared glances with a few of the other men. Now that I had mentioned that name, none of them were smiling anymore. The air got really tense. Even the men farther down on the block had come to attention.
Jo had been right. Whoever this Romeo was, they were very loyal to him.
“Who’s asking?”
“Brenda Bonita,” the lie slid easily from my lips. I had studied Romeo’s file on the plane ride home. What this situation called for was a case worker.
“That’s all I’m at liberty to discuss with you unless your name is Romeo Reevers.” I continued.
He chuckled. “You the law?”
I reached up and pushed the curly strands of hair that hung by my ear behind it, an act that made me appear soft.
“Excuse me?”
“Police.” He said losing patience with me. “Are you the police?” I softened my eyes.
“Oh no! Nothing like that.” He looked at me for a minute to determine if I was telling the truth. I blinked slowly, allowing my long lashes to sweep across my doe shaped eyes.
“Aight, follow me.”
“Yo Rob, what you doing man?” The older guy
