Page 68
Story: Protecting Dallas
“How boring,” I whined, sticking my tongue out at Maddox. His mock grumpy face was kinda cute, but I especially liked Austin putting his hands on my hips… and practically shoving me into the car.
“Drive,” Maddox said, totally shocking me as he handed over the keys. “And none of that race car shit you pulled back at home.”
They worked their phones while I navigated, cruising my way around The Big Easy. Our first stop was a government contractor Connor had once done work for, and who Maddox had been talking with through text-messages. The contacts there guided us in another direction, and we ended up pretty far from our hotel by the time night fell.
The city looked even better at night. The mixture of ancient architecture and modern uplighting lent everything a shadowy, spooky feel. Some parts of the city were darker than others, and you could always tell when you wandered into a very old area.
And it was busy. Lots of people, lots of cars. Tons of noise too, for such an old and historic place.
“Connor’s first apartment is right up here,” said Maddox, pointing through the windshield. “Three more blocks, then turn left.”
I did, and we cruised to a halt before the blackened husk of a very large, very old, and very gutted three-story structure.
“Damn.”
A fire had raged here, and not a particularly friendly one. It had consumed the entire complex we’d been guided to, and part of the next building as well.
“Dead end,” sighed Maddox in disappointment. Though he sounded distracted, his eyes were still scanning shrewdly in every direction. “Okay, what’s next?”
“East side,” replied Austin, pointing. “Three miles that way.”
He punched up a new address, then locked his phone into the dashboard holder. We’d all gotten new ones, immediately after our first run-in with the black SUV. And shit, I was just getting used to the old one.
“Your brother lived here and he never had you out?” Maddox was asking.
“Nope.”
“Must’ve been in some shit then,” he
replied. “Connor always talked about you.” He smiled cheerily. “And he always looked forward to coming home.”
I returned the smile, wishing I could go back in time. Wishing I could make things different with a simple warning, something that could change the sad path that ended his life.
Choking back emotion, I followed the on-screen instructions directing us toward my brother’s second apartment. I rolled intentionally slowly, so I could take in as much of the city as possible.
“Goddamit,” Austin said abruptly from the back seat. “I really wish your brother had contacted one of us.”
Maddox nodded. “Or all of us,” he said. “Whatever he was up to, it was foolish of him to try and take it all on himself.”
He seemed to regret the words immediately, glancing over at me with more than a little fear. But I only laughed.
“Did you even meet Connor?” I quipped. “Since when have you ever known him to ask for help with anything?”
Maddox grinned. Austin’s head bobbed in agreement. “Your brother was always giving the help rather than asking for it,” he said. “That’s probably why it was so hard for him to reach out.”
We continued on, and the conversation drifted fondly to Connor. The little things he did. The quirks and idiosyncrasies he had, like always leaving the television on, or not closing the bathroom door whenever he used it. It was heartwarming to learn I wasn’t the only one who had to suffer these things. They’d lived through it too.
In a strange but distant way, it kept his memory alive.
“Did he jam all the condiments into random drawers of the refrigerator?” asked Austin.
“Always,” I laughed. “I could never find anything.”
“I think he did it on purpose,” smirked Maddox. “He didn’t even use ketchup but he was always stowing it somewhere. Hiding it away, and—”
His sentence stopped so abruptly I actually turned to face him. His expression had gone suddenly serious. Even worse, his eyes were locked on the rear view mirror.
“You see what I’m seeing?”
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