This gets a grunted laugh out of me. “Yeah, tell me about it.”
He shifts in his spot before leaning forward and resting one hand on his knee. One of his long, gaunt fingers taps against the scruff of his chin. He does this for an awkward amount of time until his fiery gaze flashes back to me. “You know, something I learned a long time ago from my kid sister? She said even if the road has already been paved, and your future is set. You can always venture off the path and have fun before meeting your end.”
A sudden burn blooms at the back of my throat. Being told from the age of six that I’m nothing more than a tool for my father took the joy out of my childhood. It stripped the tender moments into strained memories, tainting them with the reality that I’m on borrowed time until beckoned by my owner. By the one who is both the creator of my misery and the end to it all.
What would it even mean to wander off the path he set for me? To allow myself to truly enjoy my sister’s laughs? Soak in the sun as I walk to the library? Allow myself the luxury of not staring at the clock and wonder when my time will finally come?
Of notwishingmy time would come?
The duration of my stay is spent watching the guards. Against my better judgment, I talk to a few, and get to know their stories. Why they’re here and how most wish they didn’t have to be. None of them say this outright of course, but it’s the desperation painting their every word and the defeat weighing heavy on their shoulders that give them away.
Small relationships are built amongst myself and the few, and soon there is an understanding that develops between us. A pact of sorts to have people we can trust and confide in. With too much idle time to my thoughts, they keep drifting back to a topic I’ve long buried, too afraid it might be true. Somehow, though, I muster up the courage to ask if any of them have ever seen a young girl who may look like Phineas’ daughter.
When each of them tell me no, it eases the tight knot I’ve had since Mom told me about Bunny still being alive, and suddenly my heart aches more for my mother. I hate that she has to make up a false narrative rather than accepting that sometimes, life just fucking sucks.
The rest of the week isn't as bad with the newfound friendships. While I’m sure it was never my father’s intention, it does make me question what was.
I never do figure out the answer. But when I’m dropped off on the sidewalk in front of my house, I recall what Oliver said.
It’s true, fate is impossible to escape, but it doesn’t mean I can’t do something to enjoy this fucked up life sentence in the meantime.
All I can hope is that whatever fun I end up finding doesn’t make me wish for the impossible.
After allowing Kane the pleasure of winning at the blackjack table in my casino, we exit out of the back. It felt juvenile and strange with Kane whispering in my ear to sneak away from my guards, but I couldn’t ignore the heavy thumping behind my ribcage urging me to give in to the moment.
A moment I never got in my youth.
Granted, the boys and I got into more shenanigans than I can possibly remember, but the thrill of sneaking away in the midst of a cold war with a lover is far more exhilarating.
The air is brisk, accompanied by a clear night sky and a full moon above. It lights up the alley in a beautiful hue reminding me of old black and white detective movies.
Leaning one shoulder onto the brick, my low eyes find Kane standing casually with his hands tucked in his pockets. He’s good at pretending to be laid back even when every muscle in his body is tight with anxiety. I wonder if he realizes he’s always on his toes, waiting for something to happen, or if it’s a natural response to having things happen frequently.
He motions behind me, his gaze right below my knee. I know before he even asks what he’s referring to. “What’s with the cat?”
A familiar pang resonates across my chest, both the reminder and the significance of the small animal coming to the forefront.
Instead of lowering the guard I have to work harder to keep up when he’s around, I feign ignorance. “What cat?”
He smirks, the damned dimple in his cheek dropping a heaviness in my stomach. “Ah, so it means something to you.”
“What could an alley cat possibly mean to me?”
Kane sucks his teeth and shrugs. “I mean, the obvious similarities you both share.”
“If you think a parentless cat means something to me because I lost mine, so help me Kane, not even a thousand orgasms are worth letting you keep your tongue.”
He laughs, deep and hearty. When he stops he takes a step toward me. “Quite the pessimist. No, Boss, I’m referring to the distance.”
My brows draw together as I let curiosity get the best of me and turn to see the brown stray. She’s her normal distance away–close enough to see the green and gold glitter in her eyes, but far enough I wouldn’t be able to take a step without her scurrying away.
I shift back to Kane. “She’s curious, but cautious. Not a bad trait to have when you live on the streets.”
“She knows she’d live a good life with you but she’s too stubborn to allow herself to get too close.”
“Also a smart thing to do if she wants to live.”
“What is life, if lived alone?” he counters.