I wake up early in the morning to the sound of my phone blaring. Brandi instantly kicks me in the side, warning me that if I don’t answer it quickly she is going to throw a fit. I grab my cell phone and scurry out of the bedroom so that she can try to get back to sleep; she had been up all night nauseous after something we ate disagreed with her pregnancy hormones. “Hello?” I say groggily into the phone as I rub my eyes and make my way down the hallways, intent on making myself some coffee once I get downstairs to the kitchen.

“Hello, is this Jonathan Trial?” a somewhat familiar voice says.

“Yes, can I help you?” I say as I head down the stairwell.

“We need you to come down to the police station for some additional follow up questions in regards to your friend Gabriel’s murder,” the man on the other line says, and I realize it’s Officer Carpenter –the man who pulled me out of the car on the night of Gabe’s murder.

“Officer Carpenter?” I ask even though I am fairly certain.

“Yes, sir,” the man says. “Do you think you could spare an hour?”

“Uh, yeah, of course,” I say. “I’ll be down that way soon.” I hang up the phone, and I suddenly feel sick at the thought of going to talk about that night again. I shake my head; if there is anything I can do to help them catch the creep who did this, I’ll do it, though. I go back up the stairs to get dressed and to let Brandi know I’m leaving the house; I promise her I’ll be back soon, and she drifts right back to sleep. The poor woman is exhausted.

I take the Volkswagen straight to the precinct; Officer Carpenter is waiting for me in the small lobby. The older gentleman leads me to one of the interrogation rooms; I’ve spent a considerable amount of time in this room ever since Gabe had been killed. It’s daunting to say the least. “Coffee?” Officer Carpenter asks me, but I shake my head. I want to get right to business. The man sits down in the chair across from me. “We know who killed Gabriel.”

My jaw hangs open. That was unexpected. The last I heard from them they were still at a loss –all they had found was the guy’s car with the vin numbers carefully scratched off and the tag removed. “Who?” I ask, my voice hoarse. “You told his parents already, right?”

“Of course,” Officer Carpenter says. “They’re well informed. They’re here, actually. This is where things get complicated. The man who killed Gabe is a notorious hitman.”

“A hitman?” I question, and my head starts spinning. A hitman? Who the hell would hire a hitman to kill Gabe?

“We have the man in custody, and we even have a confession. The thing is, he won’t tell us who hired him. He’s claiming he acted on his own, but with his record we know that’s not true. The FBI is going to be taking over this investigation because they think they can connect the guy to several other sanctioned hits across the country. We got him –dipshit hung around too long,” Officer Carpenter opened up a file he had been holding ever since I first arrived. I see the guy’s mugshot, and I feel a surge of anger run through my body to see the bastards face. His dark, brooding eyes stare back at me –and there is a smirk on the son of a bitch’s face. “He’s going to be going away for a long time, if he’s lucky, that is. My bet is he’s going to be on Death Row after his trial, but that’s just me speculating,” Officer Carpenter assured me. “He’s the one who pulled the bullet, but there’s someone else out there who’s really the one responsible. That’s where we need your help.”

“I have no idea who would want to kill Gabe,” I say. “He was just a kid. I mean, everyone loved him. He didn’t, as far as I know, have any enemies.”

“Okay, I lied earlier. This is where things get complicated. Our hitman wasn’t after Gabe, Mr. Trial. He was after you. In fact, the only reason you’re alive is because your hitman thought he already killed you –not Gabe. He thought you were the one in the passenger’s seat of the car that night.”

Officer Carpenter pauses to let this sink in with me. “I’m going to be sick,” I say and push my chair back away from the table where the paperwork is all laid out in front of me.

“Take your time,” Officer Carpenter says to me. I stand up and start pacing –a thousand different thoughts swirling around my head. One thought seems to be the most prominent:

Gabe wasn’t supposed to die.

“Why won’t he tell who hired him?” I finally snap.

“My bet is he’s been paid really well to keep his trap shut. He’s got a hell of a good lawyer, and I’m pretty sure he’s not the one paying for it,” Officer Carpenter says. “He probably has some sort of payment agreement in the event he gets caught. I don’t know what that agreement is exactly, but it is keeping his lips sealed for the time being.”

“What can I do?” I ask.

“Whoever did this was after you,” he says. “Is there anyone you can think of that might want you dead?”

What kind of question is that? Of course there are! I’m a recovering alcoholic asshole. I sit myself back down, and I allow myself to think. Donte is the first name that pops into my head. Then there’s Brandi’s parents –while I’d hate to accuse my former in-laws of something like this, they really hate my fucking guts and have threatened me several times. My ex side chick Vivian is another; she destroyed my Ferrari when I dumped her, so she’s proven to be completely unstable. “Damn, Trial,” Officer Carpenter says when I quickly spat off those names. “That was a little easy for you to do, wasn’t it?”

“We all have a past,” I say.

“If you can think of anyone else, let us know. For now, if you need us, don’t hesitate. For all we know whoever is after you has found another guy. Would you like a police escort home? We can have an officer outside of your house until we identify the culprit,” Officer Carpenter says.

“Am I really in that much danger?” I ask.

“We don’t yet, son,” he says, so I agree to have an officer stay outside of my place at night –but I decline the police escort.

I see Gabe’s parents out in the lobby, so I stop by to see them. They both are teary eyed at the news. “I’m so sorry,” I say to them. “It should have been me. It really should have.”

His father stands up and puts his arms around me in this tight embrace. He pulls away to speak, but he’s at a loss for words. The man’s wife speaks for him. “You can’t think that way, Jonathan,” she says. “Neither of us blame you, you know?”

I thank them for the kind words before I leave. I don’t head home; instead, I head to the café down the street from the gym. I’m starving, and I could use a coffee. I order and go and sit down at my regular table; I used to come here all the time with Laurel. Almost as soon as the thought of Laurel crosses my mind, she enters the coffee shop without noticing me. I watch from afar as that beautiful woman orders herself a coffee and her signature blueberry muffin. She orders it to go, and she spins around to head out the door. She sees me, and her shoulders drop. “Hey, Laurel,” I say, letting her know I see her and that she can’t just ignore me.

She awkwardly stands to the side of the doorway near where I am seated. “Hey, Jonathan,” she says softly.

“Listen, I can’t stay and chat,” she starts to say, but then she pauses. She looks at me, and I guess it’s written all over my face. “Jonathan, are you okay?”

I frown. Is it that obvious? “Sorry, I just got back from the police station.”

“It’s about Gabe, isn’t it?” she asks, and she puts her drink down on my table –still unwilling to actually sit down just yet.

“Yeah,” I say, but I do not offer additional information just yet. I run my fingers through my hair, an old nervous tick –one of many I have.

Slowly but surely, she drifts down into the empty seat across from me. “What happened?” I’m surprised she’s not cussing me out let alone asking me how I’m doing.

It sort of comes out fast and over the top. I tell her everything Officer Carpenter had just informed me of, and she sits across from me poise as ever taking it all in. When I finish what it is I have to say, she takes a moment for it all to register with her. “Are you in danger, Jonathan?” she asks, and she sounds sincerely worried.

“I hope not, but they’re going to be keeping a patrol car outside of my house at night,” I say.

“I’m sorry, but hey, at least they finally caught the guy who did it,” she says.

“No, they just caught the hired muscle,” I practically hiss. “Whoever did it is still out there.”

“I know,” she says, still sounding anxious about the whole thing. “You’ll watch your back, right?”

“I will,” I promise, and she slowly starts to stand up again. “Laurel, before you go, there’s something I want to say to you.”

“What’s that?” she asks while scooping up her coffee and her blueberry muffin.

“I want to apologize,” I say. “Laurel, I really do love you. I meant it when I said it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel the same way about Brandi. You were there for me when Brandi wasn’t, but I hope you understand that I just couldn’t walk away from this.”

“I get it, Jonathan, I really do. I’m sure I was just the easier choice to walk away from, right?” she says, and it really stings.

I just look down at my lap, and I feel her hand touch my shoulder. I look back up at her. “I miss you,” I say.

She removes her hand. “I miss you too, Jonathan.”

“I wish you would come back to the gym,” I say. “I hate that you’re avoiding it because of me. If I make you that uncomfortable, I could leave.”

“I know you need the job, Jonathan,” she says. “And you can’t do that to Alexis when the marathon event is coming up. Look, if you can be mature towards me, I suppose I could do the same. I suppose after everything, it would be a shame if we can’t be in the same room together, you know? I’m happy for you, Jonathan, I really am. I hope you and Brandi can work things out for the baby.”

“Ambriel,” I say.

Laurel smiles at me. “That’s a beautiful name. Ambriel Trial. I like it. I’ll see you around, Jonathan,” she says and heads out the door.

I don’t know what it was, but just talking to her –getting an apology out of my mouth, it made me feel better. Hopefully if she comes back to the gym, I’ll be able to handle it.