Page 4 of The Associate
A siren blares in the distance. I freeze and hold my breath, but thankfully, the sound of the sirens is fading away. I let out a sigh of relief.
Safe for the moment.
The adrenaline is wearing off as I walk towards my car, and my vision is growing darker by the second; if I don’t get my ass into gear I am going to pass out right here. If this blackout takes hold, it will be the third episode in six months.
I hear tires screeching on the smooth concrete as the crew rounds the corner, their headlights shining directly in my face. The engine cuts off as it stops in front of m,e and I’m vaguely aware of the muffled sound of a car door opening. “Hey, whoa, Viper,” a voice says as a hand reaches out and grips my shoulder.
I try to put words together, but they come out as a mumble as I am being lowered to the ground.
“You’re looking a little pale there, bud,” the voice says again. “Here, sniff this.”
A cold glass bottle presses into my hand, and he moves my hand and the jar to my face. “Get this into ya,” he says through a smile.
I am instantly hit with a strong smell of ammonia.Smelling salts.The fuckers gave me smelling salts.The sudden burning in my nose is enough to make me gag and, whilst I hate the sensation rising up my throat, the potency of it doesn’t take long to have an effect and I am quickly alert.
“Thatta boy. How you feeling now, Viper?”
I glance up to the voice that is talking to me.Lennox.These days,he is the lead of the cleanup crew and the only other person I will accept orders from who isn’t Sal. He is my go-to guy for cleanups. He takes no shit from anyone, including myself. “Better now, if not for the smell burning my nose hairs off, thanks, man.”
He holds out his hand and pulls me off the cold ground. “You good to take it from here?” I ask, glancing in his direction. He nods.
I nod, jutting my chin towards the cleanup crew as they unpack everything they need to stage the underground car park to look like someone has gone on a rampage, and I walk away from them without another word. They know what they are doing and how to do it; I don’t need to be here hovering over their every move. I just need to know that old mate’s body has been put in a body bag.
As I round the corner to where I parked my car, I am thankful it didn’t get caught up in the shootout. At least something worked out right — I love this car. It’s not just any ‘65 Mustang; my baby is jet black with chrome accents, the interior is all black leather and, when needed, I can put my foot flat on the floor and go from zero to one hundred in four seconds. No one ever sees me coming — or going.
With a car as dark as a clear, midnight sky, if I am ever in a predicament at night, I can just flick off the lights, and I effectively disappear. There was a time or two when I was younger, where the cops were on my ass — I was just a stupid ass kid who thought he was above the law. When Sal heard about what happened and how I managed to escape, he gave me a pretty good talking to, telling me in no uncertain terms that I needed to ‘Wake the fuck up to yourself’ before disappearing into his office to clean up the mess I had created.
This was his turning point. After that, any time I asked him a question, I would be greeted with a mumbled response or a wave of his hand as he dismissed me. He stopped showing me the fatherly love he once had, and suddenly, I couldn’t do anything right.
Since then, he has progressively become angrier.
There were a few more incidents after that, but I quickly became better at keeping a low profile on the roads. I wasn’t that stupid kid anymore. I was only focused on one thing back then and that was how many naked girls I could get in the backseat of my car. I wanted my freedom and independence, and Sal had threatened to take my car off me, so I agreed, took the hard slap up the side of the head as a warning, and moved on.
I am barely a metre away from my car now and instinctively unlock it as I move in closer to open the door. I climb in, and my hands instantly grip the black leather steering wheel. I let out a deep, frustrated sigh, closing my eyes for a brief moment and pinching the bridge of my nose. I am going to need a stiff drink to collect myself before checking in with the boss, and I know just the place to go.
Before I start the engine, I pull my phone out of my pocket. Five missed calls from Sal.Ugh! I better call him back.Just as I’m about to hit the call button, my screen lights up with Sal’s stern profile. Accepting the call, I put the phone to my ear. “Where the fuck are you? And why haven’t you answered any of my goddamn fucking calls?”
Thankfully, he can’t see me roll my eyes; I can almost see the saliva spraying from his mouth as he spews his impatience. “You would have had my neck if I had answered my phone while I was stalking a target,” I bite back.
He growls in response. I don’t get more than that from him, and there is no point in trying to convince him — he wouldn’t listen to me anyway.
“Jasper is no longer a problem for us.” I keep it brief.
“Good, I’ll see you soon.” His tone is dismissive.
“Don’t stay up, I’m hitting the bar first,” I retort, and I disconnect the call before he gets the chance to reply. I turn the key in the ignition and the ‘stang roars to life.
I need to get to the bar across town fast. My foot hits the floor and I accelerate out of the car park like a bat out of hell. I weave in and out of traffic, knowing exactly where I want– no,needto go — and it is the opposite direction of home.
I know speeding through traffic is not going to get me to my destination any faster, but the thrill helps clear my mind and take the edge off the brewing agitation, which seems to cause these blackouts. My skin has started to crawl and it is only a matter of time before one hits.
The blackouts only ever hit when my adrenaline is diminishing and the agitation increases. Thank God I have never blacked out before I have the chance to take down my target and get out. I need to get to Gravel and Grit before I lose all focus and injure innocents in the process. I know I shouldn’t be driving, but how else am I going to get out of these places and not get caught? I’ll just have the doc check me out when I get back home, especially after the episode earlier. If it wasn’t for Lennox, I’d still be lying there on the ground.
Horns honk around me as I pass cars with ease. The street lights illuminate my car for a brief second before I am back in darkness again.
Gravel and Grit is a run-down bar on the outskirts of the southwest side of town, aptly named because you have to travel down a dirt road to get to it. It smells of cheap beer and sweat, and the stench of sex always lingers in the back. I prefer coming here, even though it is a shit hole, they only see the name – the persona I have built. All I do is sit in a booth at the back and drink my cheap bourbon. It is a good place for me to pick up a woman, fuck her senseless in the bathroom stalls, and leave straight after without caring if she comes or not. I get what I want.
I pull up out the front, the neon sign flashing on and off. This place never gets any better, but it also never gets any worse.
