JACK
“A pączki. Strawberry filling.” I drooled, looking at the pastry.
Agata avoided me like the plague—made sense. It had been two weeks since our ‘date.’ Probably one of the worst dates I’d ever had, but in her defense, I wanted to fuck Ahri in the back of the diner, and I was flirting with her the whole time she served us.
Agata’s brown hair was up high in a ponytail, and her blue eyes never looked into mine. When she accidentally made eye contact, her face burned up like she had been in the sun for too long. After I got back from The Bayne, I saw her only twice. And like every meeting we had, I kept it short, sweet, and to the point. I asked for a donut, paid, and left.
I should’ve thanked her for never telling her dad about what happened. Me, basically being a dick and telling her to fuck off. I’m sure Wazowski would’ve kicked me out, regardless of whether I’d gotten him that bread mixer or not.
Oh, well, that was two weeks ago. Didn’t matter now.
I paid for my food, took a bite, and was about to leave until I heard a shy voice from behind. “Hey.”
I turned around, taking another bite.
Agata face burned red as we linked eyes. “Ummm…I was wondering, are you still with Ahrianna?” She rolled the ‘R’ in Ahrianna, making her name sound like royalty.
I nodded, taking another bite as my stomach growled.
I had breakfast at the diner each morning while my baby girl served me, and I always left her a generous tip. I’d also happened to convince Ahri for the past four mornings to have a not-a-date with me for fifteen minutes. It wasn't that hard when I ordered her favorite. A grilled cheese sandwich, tomato soup, and a chocolate milkshake. Even at eight in the morning, it was still her favorite.
I even bought her a chocolate cake on the menu this morning and embarrassed her by singing Happy Birthday loudly, which Felicia and a few other customers joined in. I took my birthdays, and the people I cared about, very seriously. Always will. That’s why I always took the whole month of April off.
I didn’t give Ahri her gift. In fact, I’d just came back from buying it. I looked down at my white and red bag with the newest phone inside. The same phone I have, but in white. Ahri hadn’t worn black since her sister’s funeral, and she never planned to ever again. I didn’t want her to either. I wanted the colorful, 90’s wardrobe Ahri in my life.
After phone shopping, I went straight to the bakery for a donut that was calling my name before Wazowski closed shop in a few minutes. Wazowski himself was already gone. He always left early, leaving his daughter in charge.
I took a bite.
I was still hungry. I was always hungry with my crazy metabolism and workouts. I never gained weight, only muscle. I still worked out two to three hours each night when I knew Ahri was safe at Diablo’s with Papi Gomez. Around midnight, I would come back from the gym and make my way to the bar. I enjoyed a dark Guinness or stayed sober and smoked my Marlboro’s while I enjoyed Ahri’s company.
Somedays I would walk her to Maddy’s at the crack of dawn when she didn’t sleep, and other mornings she fell asleep at Diablo’s. I didn’t have the heart to wake her up, drag her out of the booth, and bring her to bed for only an hour or two. So, I watched her. Ahri fell asleep at the bar three nights in a row, and that was more times than I wanted her too. But that was her life…for now.
Over the past few days, I slowly brought up more about my past, and I'm not just talking about Chicago. I told Ahri stories about my days hijacking cars in New York City and Philly, and about the weekly fights I entered to win some cash. If I won, I made a couple hundred bucks, and if I lost, which was about half the time, I would be broke, bruised, and bloody (the last two I secretly missed). The three lovely B’s which built up my tolerance for pain. That’s probably why I could take the punches from Gomez. I’d been up against lots of Gomez’s in the ring.
Ahri was never bothered by my juvenile crimes, which I loved. She wanted to hear more, but those stories were for another time. I told her more about my foster homes and parents, and Link. And Ahri told me more about Aurora and Fidget. Ahri wasn’t lying when she said she was closer to Fidget then she was with her sister. They were just as inseparable as Link and I.
Fidget once stole a Maroon 5 CD to make Ahri happy, but that just pissed her off. She forced him to return it, but later that week she stole it back for herself. Ahri even straighten her brother’s hair, making him look less like a wavy-haired, surfer Californian boy which he hated. He was a Chi-town boy for life. Ahri then told me about the silent CTA rides they took. They rode the whole train ride from beginning to end when they’d had a shitty day. Aurora would sometimes join them, but her life was packed with school or work, so most of the time it was just the two of them.
The thing is. I’d heard all these stories before from Fidget. He never mentioned Ahri’s name; he just called her his ‘friend.’
It was heartbreaking that they didn’t talk anymore because of a ‘complication.’ Fuck. I didn’t care how complicated it was, if I missed Link as much as Ahri missed Fidget I would’ve tried to talk to him. Letter or not. I would’ve pushed my pride aside and talked to Link. Forget complications.
On that note, I had to put a pin in the ‘Find the Missing Link’ project since I wasn't getting anywhere. But it was a temporary pin. I wasn't a quitter. As of right now, I was just trying to figure out how to tell Ahri everything about myself without her wanting to rip out my guts and stomp on them.
After my breakfast, I would go back to the Wazowski apartment. I told Ahri I was looking for a new chef position, but in reality; I cooked, took photos, read Ahri’s comic books, or tossed some knives into the ceiling or wall. I did anything to fill the boredom like I was back at prison.
When I got really bored. I reread Fidget’s letter, over and over and over again until the words were carved into my brain. When I wasn’t reading the physical copy, I was obsessing about it. Fidget’s sloppy handwriting which made my chicken scratch look like calligraphy. The added creases and folds I’d given the letter whenever I shoved it in my wallet. And the black ink fading because the paper was getting so worn out.
I thought about the letter when I wasn’t thinking of Ahri or distracting myself.
Over the past four days, I’d even changed my sleeping schedule. It was complete trash, but it was worth it when I had time to sleep with Ahri before her Diablo’s shift. There were days I wanted to pay for her not to go to work, to quit, but I just had to wait a little longer. I was going to tell her about everything, about it all, but not just yet.
I was going to tell her about my non-vanilla jobs, Wallace, prison, Fidget and the fucking letter. I was going to come clean and tell her I was a selfish bastard who wanted to play a small game to indulge his obsession and curiosity because he had nothing better to do. I was going to tell her, but I was giving her pieces of the puzzle, one by one.
So, give or take a month or two.
Maybe longer.
I guess Fidget would have to wait a little longer until I figured it all out and talked to him again.
God, I hope he has a good cellmate.
That boy was too pretty for prison. There were some real pieces of shit in Tavernville who were that lonely and that fucking pathetic. I saw the way they’d looked at Fidget when he first came. I saw how scared Fidget was, but I took care of it. Even though Fidget never directly asked for help. I made his prison life easy.
I sighed, waiting for Agata to say something else.
“What’s your point?”
“Mmmm—does Ahri know that?” Agata spoke shyly.
“Excuse me?”
“Does-does she know you’re dating?” She knows she’s mine, I thought. “I just—I think she’s with another man.” Agata spilled out.
“What?” I chuckled, playing it off like I heard her wrong.
“I…I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry. It’s not my place.” Agata frantically looked around the counter for something to do.
“What do you mean another man?” I gritted, not taking her comment lightly.
“Nothing. Nothing, it really isn't my place. I’m just putting my nose where it doesn't belong.”
“Agata,” I gritted.
“I saw them together over a week ago on Saturday.”
Saturday? As in when I was still at The Bayne, Saturday?
“What man?” I clenched my teeth, my anger and jealousy spinning together and ripping the whole room apart with my mood.
I knew I had to control it. I knew what anger and jealousy could make a man in the heat of the moment do. It’s why I’m here. In this fucking bakery. Falling into a bottomless pit for my ex-cellmates sister, which I would’ve never met if I didn’t know what a man full of rage and jealousy could do to another man.
Fuck!
Maybe it was Gomez? Maybe a drunk she had to walk into a taxi? Maybe it wasn't even Ahri? Some other cute girl with wavy blond hair?
The logical side of me tried to seep through.
“I don’t know. A skinny guy with dark brown hair. I saw them a week ago outside the diner in the alley, and they were very close to each other—” She stopped.
I flexed my jaw repeatedly, feeling as if any second now I was going to snap my teeth in half. My blood boiled, burning every part of my body like I was on fire. Agata looked away from me. She knew I was not to be messed with right now. I rarely got mad, but when I did, I was a menacing, dangerous, vicious threat.
Pure darkness.
But even though my madness tore through my body, my mind, and my heart. I had to stay calm.
I didn't want to think about Ahri with another man. Not while I was around. Fuck. Not. Fucking. Ever. She was mine. Even when she finds out the truth about Fidget, prison, my past. She’s still mine. Even if she hates me, hits me, screams at me, does whatever she wants to do to me because I lied. She's still fucking mine. She could hurt me all she wants, but there was no chance in hell she was leaving me. And there was no chance in fucking hell that I was leaving her.
She was an obsession. A permanent obsession that should’ve faded by now, but instead got worse with each glance I stole, each breath I robbed, and each touch I seized. She was the only one for me. Because Ahrianna Lore was it for me.
There is no fucking way there’s another man.
I'd seen the way Ahri looked at me. Only me. I caught her staring at me hundreds of times when we were in the library. Or the way she opened up to the camera and let me take a picture of her face. Her precious smile. Or the way she gave me her real smile. Not that fake bullshit she pulls at Maddy’s for tips. Ahri cares about me. She feels safe around me. She trusts me, and she should, regardless if I wasn't honest with her. But I was going to be.
There is no fucking way there’s another man.
I needed to talk to Ahri; she was the only one who could calm me down. To tell me that it wasn't true. To tell me that Agata was a selfish, jealous bitch. To tell me that Agata saw things. To tell me that Agata was just pulling a lie out of her ass.
“I-I shouldn’t have said anything, I just thought—I just thought since I saw him over a week ago and a saw them in the back about ten minutes ago—” Agata’s voice, shaky.
“Ten minutes ago?” I snapped, stepping closer to the glass pastry counter while Agata jumped back and hit the wall. She nodded frantically. Her eyes were wide and scared. She was on the verge of crying, but I didn’t care. I needed answers.
“I saw him following her upstairs—” Agata’s voice faded in the distance.
The bell rang behind me, and I tossed my donut to the ground. I gripped the paper bag with Ahri’s gift tight in my fist, storming through the alley and leaving scorch trials behind.
There is no fucking way there’s another man.
All my senses morphed into on blur when I opened the door and saw a yellow-toothed man smile at me.
“Oh, excuse me, Tats.” He slurred his words, slightly drunk and high as he walked past me. I didn't move. I froze, consumed with two emotions: shock and confusion.
Holy shit.
I dropped my bag.
Holy shit.
Fidget?
The longer I stared at the man, the more my vision cleared. His face became more and more familiar. He reminded me of a drunk, old, ugly version of Fidget with dark wavy brown hair, but comparing this man to Fidget felt like a sin—from what my stomach was telling me. There was no doubt in my mind that this man was related to Ahri and Fidget. My sight cleared up, and when I saw the old burn on the man's cheek, chin, and neck, my heart stopped.
It’s him.
The ‘he’ from Fidget’s letter.
The man Fidget tried to kill.
I saw only red when I grabbed the man by the collar and slammed his thin body into the brick wall. I covered his mouth with my hand. “Don't fucking make a sound.” I gritted. “You’re gonna use your inside voice, and you’re going to tell me who the fuck you are.”
He tried to fight, punching at my face. I dodged each one of his slow, weak punches and gave him an uppercut to the gut. He coughed and grabbed his stomach before I gripped the collar of his tan jacket tightly in my fist.
“I said, tell me who the fuck you are,” I growled, ramming his thin body into the brick wall. The sound of someone's skull hitting a hard surface never felt so satisfying.
“I’ll call the fucking cops,” he said in a nasally voice.
“For what? A fucking punch? What are you? A pussy? A snitch? You’re the one high off his ass on whatever you shot into you smoke. So, tell me who the fuck you are.”
“I didn’t say I was going to call the cops on you,” he spat, but remained quiet as I asked.
“You’re going to call the cops? On Ahri?” My upper lip twitched at his bullshit bluff. “For what?” I snarled with a laugh.
“Get the fuck off of me, or I’ll rat out that little bitch for what she did.”
“Call her a bitch one more time, and I’ll make sure that word is carved into your fucking bones while you bleed out.” My voice was thick with no room for negotiation.
I pushed him into the wall again. Lazily, I examined the rest of him like he was a cheap item in the clearance section at the dollar store. His large blue jeans were held up by an old brown belt, his tan jacket was far too large for him, and the same went for his white shirt. He stunk. Like he hadn't showered in a week or two, but what was worse was the smell of bonfire mixing with his scent. He looked homeless. A stereotypical drunk and a druggie that no one gave two shits about.
That can benefit you, Jack.
His black eyes were like Ahri and Fidget’s, but they were empty. He looked like a true monster, and my gut was telling me I was right. My gut was telling me that I would be doing Ahri and the whole fucking world a favor if I just killed this man.
Right here.
Right now.
If Fidget thought this guy was worth burning alive, then I must be right.
“Fuck man. What’s your problem? Seriously? Who the fuck do you think you are?” He grabbed my wrist and tried to claw my flesh. “Trust me if you knew the shit she did you wouldn’t be on her side. She’s beyond saving. She’s fucking damaged goods—”
I slammed his back so hard into the wall it knocked the wind right out of him before I dropped him on the ground.
“Don’t you ever talk about my fucking girl like that. Now, tell me who you are before I turn your insides outsides. Tell me why you followed Ahri upstairs to her fucking place. My place.” I tried to stay quiet, but my voice and rage were getting the best of me.
“I’m her cousin.”
He was telling the truth, and a small fraction of me relaxed. But he still made my gut feel like an eight-inch dagger was slowly being pushed and twisted inside of me. Every time I looked at his face, I thought of Aurora. Another dagger entered my gut.
“I swear. She’s my cousin,” he whispered loudly.
He held his hands in the air so that I could give him mercy. So, I wouldn’t treat my fists to a skinny punching bag. Slowly he got to his feet, wobbling side to side. “I’m here for my money?”
“Money?” I stepped closer to him, trying my best not to grab his neck and snap it like a twig. “Money for what?”
“Like I would tell you.”
My breath was heavy and thick as I took another step closer to him. My fists clenched so tight, my fingernails dug into my palms.
Don’t do it. Jack. I heard a voice—Ahri’s. She was cooling me down. She was telling me not to. It’s not worth it. Not right now, I thought. I knew if I were to put my hands on him again I wouldn’t be able to control myself. Not until I heard bones cracking or saw the back of Wazowski’s bakery painted in red.
“What were you doing with her last Saturday?” I gritted.
“Money,” he slurred, but the word sounded almost foreign.
“Did you hit her?”
My rage was boiling to the brim. I became so intoxicated with it, the man’s face began to lose details. I didn't see a nose, mouth or eyes. I saw a blur I wanted red. Only. Fucking. Red.
Don’t do it, Jack. Please.
He swallowed. “I pushed her, so?”
My head was over his; his neck snapped back. He was a short man, only a few inches taller than Ahri. I towered over him like the lid of a coffin. Like the dirt that helped keep the pressure on top for hundreds of centuries so not even his fucking zombie could rise again.
“You lay your hands on me, and I'll make sure your girl goes to prison,” he mumbled as if he had all the power in the world at his fingertips.
“What makes you think they’ll believe a druggie, huh?” I scoffed, letting a smile take over my face.
“They’ll believe her writing. Her words. Her confessions.” His eyes rattled between mine as a yellow and brown spotted smile found a place on his face. He was scared, but he knew he was untouchable.
I stepped back.
This guy was serious. He was actually going to be a little bitch and snitch. It was written all over his drugged-up face. There was no way in hell I was going to risk the idea of Ahri going to prison even if this was a bluff. But it wasn’t. He was telling the truth. He knew something about Ahri…something worse than just her petty theft.
My body shook with adrenaline as I had come out of an ice bath, but there was nothing I could do to release my stress. Fuck. I took another step back. Fuck!
“I know shit about her no one else knows, and I plan to get my money’s worth. She owes me for what that bitch did to me,” he hissed, my eyes dropped down to his scorched flesh.
Ahri?
Ahri started the fire?
“What did you do? What did you do to Aurora?” I whispered calmly, yet my voice as thick as smog.
I saw the goosebumps prickle on his skin from fear. He had every right to be scared. If it wasn’t for Ahri’s voice inside my head or the fact that it was still daylight. I would’ve killed him.
“Nothing she didn’t want to do.”
“What. Did. You. Do. To. Aurora?” Each word left my lips with steam so blazing, it could’ve burned the rest of his face off.
“Nothing.”
“If you ever come here again. Near my girl. Near my apartment. Near the fucking block. I’ll finish the job myself and set you on fire in the middle of the street.”
“Touch me, and I’ll tell the cops. You think this is only about the fire? I told you she’s beyond saving. She’s as fucked up as they come.” He scoffed and rubbed his nose with his dirty sleeve. “Oh, and by the way. I’m Eddy. You want to get a nice reaction from Ahri on her birthday, out of all days, just say my name. She’ll fucking love it,” he slurred his words one more time before I let him walk down the alley.
That fucking bastard was going to die.
Don’t do it, Jack, Ahri calmly spoke.
Not yet, Jack, I thought.
I stayed in the alley for what felt like endless hours, but in reality were only a few minutes. I replayed the letter in my head, answering the only questions I knew.
I’m sorry for what I said…
I hate you. I never want to see you again. You’re dead to me.
I did it all for you…
Fidget went to prison for Ahri.
I know what he did to Aurora?
Blank.
Eddy popped into my head again. ‘You think this is only about the fire?’
What else did you do, Ahrianna?
I sighed, dropping my heavy body on the back door. Ahri had just as many secrets as I did.
Do you care what she did, Jack?
Fuck.
No.
In my eyes, Ahri would always be my fucking princess. My Goddess. My baby girl. Nothing. And I mean fucking nothing could make me think otherwise, because I was a blind man.
That night. When we talked about wrong and right. She wasn't talking about Fidget. She was talking about herself. Her purely selfish reasons for doing what she did.
I took a deep breath and controlled my body, but my hands were pale and trembling. I knew that I couldn’t bring this up. Eddy, was fucking right. If I brought it up today. It would spiral out of control. I know how hard this day must be for her. Especially not having Aurora.
Fuck!
I had to lie again. I had to pretend that I never met Eddy…at least until I get her home tonight after the club. Her real home. I’m going to sit her down and tell her everything. I couldn’t keep fucking lying. Not to Ahri. I couldn’t keep digging my hole. I was already six feet under trying to find my treasure, a pile of guilt and sorrow.
Why didn’t you just give her the damn letter the first day you met and leave?
I grabbed my chest, afraid my heart would spill out on the pavement and expose itself to me. To remind myself that it was no longer mine but stolen by a beautiful thief. A spirited arsonist. An alluring sinner just like me. To remind me that Ahrianna was my fucking everything and anything.
Why didn’t you just give her the damn letter the first day you met and leave?
Because if I had. It would have been my biggest regret.
My worst crime.