Over The Girl
Ryan
I couldn’t figure out what to do with my hands. Should I turn on the TV? Make a sandwich? Punch a hole in the wall? Miriam was in my bedroom for a while, long enough for me to calm down a bit and to think about her being in my bedroom. A laugh tickled the back of my throat. To think, only an hour ago I would have fought a bear to get her in my bedroom again. Then I realized that I practically had fought a bear, and couldn’t help but chuckle a bit.
She came out of the bedroom a walked down the hall. Lit from behind by the light through my bedroom window, I could almost imagine she belonged here, that she was barefoot and smiling at me. Then she handed me my phone and said, “Thank you.”
I put the phone back in its cradle. I couldn’t keep the cold out of my voice. “What now?”
Miriam looked uncomfortable and tugged at a strand of red hair.
“I’ve got a ride coming for me.”
I nodded. “And what then?”
She bit her lip. “And then I’m going for a ride.”
“I won’t see you again, will I?”
She didn’t say anything for a moment. “It’s better this way.” She nodded, as if to herself.
My stomach flip-flopped. “If you say so.” I motioned to the sofa. “You can wait here if you want. I won’t bother you.”
“I’m meeting the him out on the street. I told him I’d wait there.”
“It’s none of my business, I guess, but ‘him’ who?”
She opened her mouth, and for just a moment I could feel that she almost told me.
But then her face closed up again.
“My…handler.”
Whatever that meant.
My apartment had two doors that led outside: one in the back, that we had come in, and one in the front. “If you go through that door,” I pointed to the front door, “the stairs take you down to the street. You won’t have to walk through the alley.”
“Okay.” She took a step toward me. When she looked up at me, her eyes were shining. “Thanks. For everything.” Her lip trembled, just slightly, and I almost took her in my arms. Almost kissed the top of her head and whispered that everything was going to be all right. And maybe it would have been. One Marine against two mysterious operatives with head trauma. I gave myself good odds.
But before I said any of that, she walked around me, her fingertips trailing down my arm, and then she was out the door.
Her footsteps on the stairs sounded so light. So small. I went to the window and saw her walk out of the building and stand by the curb. I hadn’t realized until that moment that she still wore her blue apron. I couldn’t help but smile a bit at that.
I glanced up the street, and the smile froze on my face. Two blocks up, a black Lexus with blackout windows turned off a side street and onto my road. In that bright blue apron she was impossible not to recognize. The car accelerated and blew through a stop sign. Miriam was looking the other way and didn’t see it.
No time to shout, to tell her to run.
I checked my waistband. The gun was still there.
I pulled it and ran out the door, pounding down the stairs two at a time. From outside, there was a squeal of tires followed by Miriam’s cry of alarm. The door at the bottom of the stairs thudded against the side of the building when I kicked it open.
The Lexus sat askew in the street, slanting in toward the sidewalk. The passenger side front door was open. Felix Martel was on the sidewalk. His arm was wrapped around Miriam and he wrestled her toward the car. She hollered and kicked at his legs, but if they were anything like his jaw that wouldn’t faze him much. But if she hadn’t been fighting and making noise, he probably would have heard me kick open the door.
I thought about shooting him right then, but they were too close together and it had been too long since I’d fired a weapon. I wouldn’t risk hitting Miriam.
The driver, Bassett, saw me approaching, and he got out of the driver’s side. I was impressed with his resilience, driving the car with a broken arm.
The rear passenger door was closed, and that was what saved Miriam. Between fighting her and fumbling to get the door open, Martel didn’t hear me coming, and couldn’t react in time when his partner warned him. He froze when I put the barrel of the gun in the small of his back.
“I hate guns,” I growled.
“Look, buddy—” he started, and I jabbed the gun harder against his kidney.
“Just the fact that I’m holding this gun makes me fuckin’ mad. It makes me look for a reason to pull the trigger. You know what I mean? Do guns make you feel this way, too?”
He didn’t answer. His partner started to slowly walk around toward the rear of the car, his good hand going into his coat.
“You, numbnuts,” I called. “Get your ass back in the car or I’m going to blow a big hole in your friend here with your gun. He’s a tough bastard, but probably not that tough.”
The second man glanced at his partner. I saw the big head nod.
“Let the girl go.”
Obedient with a gun at his back, he dropped his arm. Miriam sobbed and stepped away. Then her face contorted and she kicked him in the shin. It was a vicious shot, and I’m pretty sure it would have dropped me to my knees in pain. But he took it without a word or a gasp.
He turned his head so he could see me out of the corner of his eye. “You’re making a big mistake.” So calm. Just a casual conversation. As if I didn’t have the muzzle of a gun buried in his back. I took two steps away from him and Miriam took hold of my hand. He turned fully toward us now, his gray eyes measuring, emotionless. “You can still keep yourself out of this. Just give over the girl, and I’ll forget you exist. No harm, no foul.” He cracked a smile, revealing teeth that were white and even, save for a chipped front tooth. Spread his hands in a gesture that said, We’re all friends here. “I’ll even convince my partner that he broke his arm falling down some stairs. No grudges.” He tilted his head as if something pleasant had just occurred to him. “And you can keep his gun. A gift.”
We continued to edge away from him, toward the corner of the building.
“Nah, man. I’m already in this. Reckon I’ll see it through from here.”
He nodded with the expression of a man who had already known what he would hear. “You seemed like that kind of guy.”
We were almost around the corner of the building. “Fuck yourself.”
And we turned and ran like hell.