"Hey, little girl, I wouldn't go that way."
The man sat with his back to the wall, just beside the alleyway. He looked as if he were wearing all his clothes at once. Another of the homeless dumped into the factory slums. Some people feared them, worried that what little they had would be ripped from them by these desperate people who lived on the street. Augustine refused to let her own terror allow her to view a man like him as something less than her; that seemed to be how all the problems started. Even she was used to that just from her own time working a corporate job while only being able to afford living in the slums.
Augustine hesitated. With her hoodie drawn up, hiding her curls pulled back into two little poofs, all that was visible was her face, so it surprised her that he could tell under her too large hoodie that she was a woman. "Why do you say that?"
He shook his head, his kinky black curls streaked with gray. "There's a corporate hitman down there doing a' 'interview.' Not good."
After her close call earlier, her legs weakened. "Shit," she whispered. She peered into the alleyway. On the other end was a single working streetlight.
The man's deep voice rose up from the ground to warn her again. "I wouldn't."
She knew he was right, but she couldn't help herself. Two men were silhouetted against the light, one cowering against the side of the building as the other loomed over him. Augustine stepped closer, sneaking along the edge of the building towards another dumpster for cover. She could just barely catch their voices. They were little more than grunts on the wind, but she could tell that her contact was in trouble. She tried to think of something she could do, knowing that she couldn't stand up to this one any more than she would've been able to stand up to the other. The sharp edge of her broken front teeth cut into her lips as she pressed them together. Augustine froze to the spot, powerless to stop the inevitable outcome.
And then the man knocked the cowering form to the ground with one swift punch. In the back of her mind, she knew it was him just by the way he moved, smooth like an animal well practiced in his attack. He lifted his thick soled boots and stomped on the man's head over and over again. Every fiber in her body electrified at the recognition, and she jumped from behind the dumpster.
"No!" She shouted, unable to stop herself.
He turned. Despite the darkness, she could just imagine his blue eyes on her.
"Gus?"
Hearing her name in that voice, familiar and strange at the same time, her lungs constricted as she turned around, bolting out of the alleyway, past the old man who shuffled quickly away from the scene. "I told you!" He called after her as she ran down another alleyway, tripping over a sleeping form who protested loudly. She hit the ground for only a moment before she felt her backpack straps pulling against her shoulders as she struggled to slip out, ready to leave all of her belongings behind. He grabbed at her hoodie as she almost got one arm free and drew her against his chest, crushing her with the force of both his arms, her backpack falling to the ground.
It'd been so long since anyone had touched her, and he held her tight against him so that his heat practically burned as a sob escaped her. She started to cry, unable to stop it, soaking his shoulder. With her hoodie still up, part of her wondered how he knew it was her. Had he even seen her face? Would he recognize her?
"Fuck," he whispered into her ear, holding her tightly still. "Gus, what the fuck?"
The person she'd tripped over shambled away, out of the alley, leaving the two of them alone.
"Let me go, Eddie!"
She said it thickly through the tears as she weakly tried to push against him. He'd always been strong, but now his grip felt as steadfast as being stuck against a building. He'd filled out in their years apart and somehow grown even taller. Her hands felt small against him, and she wondered if he could even feel her pushing.
"No," he said, his voice as dark as the night around them. One hand slipped to the back of her head. "I've been looking for you for months."
She stopped struggling, her eyelids pressed to his now wet shoulder. "I didn't want you to."
Eddie was not releasing her. She tried to pull away, he refused to yield and held her steady. "Too fuckin' bad."
He loosened his grip enough that she could finally look up to him. Light from one of the stray windows lit the features of his face as he watched her, his brows furrowed over his dented nose with its sharp point at the end. His thin lips naturally pointed down, his neutral expression a perpetual scowl. In their five years apart, he'd thickened, his chest and arms pressing against his close fitting black button up shirt. But her eyes were drawn to the leather straps over his shoulders and the holster on his left-hand side.
When she looked back up, anger lit up his eyes, making them even bluer, though she was certain her own expression hadn't changed. "Yeah, Gus. It's part of the job. C'mon, let's go."
Eddie gave her a tug and she fought against it, even though she knew she would lose. Dark memories crept along her skull, and she dug in her heels, slammed shut her eyes, and pleaded, "Wait!"
He stopped and turned back to her, watching her closely. Five years. She couldn't believe it'd been five years. He had to be 25 now, the same as Ray would've been. He wasn't a kid anymore, but a grown man.
She found herself staring at his shoes, tears sticking in her eyelashes. Augustine hadn't wanted him to take this job, and seeing him now, doing exactly what she'd known he would, angered and frightened her. On that night, five years ago, when he'd told her that he was taking the job, he'd warned her that when he found her again she'd have no choice but to go with him. It had sounded like a threat to her ears, as if he'd foreseen that he would be more powerful than her.
Augustine sniffled. He held her by her scrawny wrist, his hand so much larger than it'd been when they'd all lived together. "You can't make me go," she said, trying to steel her voice though it still sounded wet.
"Who's gonna fuckin' stop me, Gus?"
Next Chapter: The Sweetest Things
