My fingers were shaking and I shoved them into the pockets of my coat. She wasn't here yet. I glanced over my shoulder and wondered what would happen if she didn't show. I wondered if I'd be able to stay alive if I didn't get it. Then across the street, I saw her get out of a cab.
Showtime.
"Debbie," I yelled and dodged between cars to reach her before she opened the club's door.
ReplyDeleteShe stopped, her hand on the door, but she didn't look at me. Debbie was too good... too perfect for me, and I should have recognized that long ago. If I hadn't been valuable in other ways, she'd have simply looked beyond me that day after the curtain fell.
"Hello, Robert," she purred when I finally reached her side.
Turning, she stood underneath the awning, pulling her coat tighter around her. I stood outside... in the rain, loathe to be any closer to her than I had to be. Drops of rain slid down my face from my sopping hair. It was a lousy day in my lousy life, but I still wanted to see the morning.
"It's Mike," I corrected her, as if we both didn't know.
It was a game with her... it was all a game.
"That's right," she said.
"Do you have it?" I asked.
She didn't answer. She smiled... a toothy, considering type of smile. Games. Why did it always have to be games? This was my life... and a whole lot of money.
"I left the prototype where you said to, and I was supposed to carry something back to them so they'd know to pay me... and not kill me. The token. I need the token." My voice sounded hoarse... I hadn't been sleeping well.
Raising a thin, shaped eyebrow, she said, "You did well, Mike. We might have use for your... special talents again." Reaching into her purse, Debbie pulled out something that she handed to me. A small, black square. It looked stark and decisive against the pale skin of my open hand.
"A delete key?" I asked, shocked. "I'm supposed to hand over a delete key to them?"
"That's right."
"They won't kill me if I give them this... they'll pay me what you said they would?" I asked. A delete key... pried from an old keyboard? This was going to seal the deal with the devil I'd made when I agreed to this?
"Ironic, no?" She kissed the tip of her fingers before pressing them to my lips. "I have to get ready for my next performance."
My hands were still shaking as I stared at the delete key. Rain pooled around it in the palm of my hand. Could I really trust her, or was she just handing me my own death sentence to carry?
Her laugh was throaty, and she left saying, "Goodbye, darling."
A delete key? It was a game with her, and no matter what happened to me, she'd already won.
Wendy, you've got some great suspense going on with your pieces! Love this!
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