Page 36 of The Sound of Silence

“This situation is different.”

“Let me guess… smoking hot chick from the gym who’s having trouble paying her monthly dues? Or maybe a damsel in distress with a great rack that needed saving?” he harassed with a waggle of his eyebrows.

I glared at him.

“Seriously, man. What do you take me for?” I snarled, but Christopher knew my words carried no real heat. His smile remained, but when he spoke again, his tone was serious.

“Relax, brother. I’m only teasing you. For real… what’s going on?”

I eyed him ruefully, trying to determine how much I wanted him to know. I knew who Val really was, but I wasn’t comfortable revealing the truth to anyone else. It was her story to tell when she was ready. Hell, I didn’t even know the story. All I knew were the ten million questions I had were driving me insane. Still, Christopher was a keen observer and he was smart. It would only be a matter of time before he cut through all the bullshit, so I may as well be as straight as possible with him.

“I met this girl about three years ago in Cincinnati. As I mentioned to you earlier on the phone, her name is Gi—” I stopped short at my near slip-up. Getting used to calling her by her new name was proving to be more challenging than I originally thought. “Her name is Val. Our meeting was brief. A fluke, really.” I proceeded to give him an abbreviated version of our first meeting, including the exchange I witnessed between her and her husband.

“He roughed her up on their wedding day?” Christopher asked incredulously.

“I would call it more like rough handling, but definitely threatening. I remember thinking she looked scared back then. Now here we are, three years later, and she looks more terrified than ever. I think she’s on the run, bro.”

“From the husband?”

“Yeah.”

Christopher let out a long, low whistle.

“That’s a sticky situation. Domestics can get complicated in a real hurry. Please don’t tell me you’re dating this girl.”

“No! I’m not dating her.”Yet.

Yes, I wanted Val—I wanted her bad—but Christopher was right. Until I knew her whole situation, it would be wise to remain cautious. Then again, I never claimed to be a wise man.

Christopher scratched his chin between his thumb and forefinger contemplatively.

“So, you’re not dating her, but something tells me you really like her. Am I right?”

“Well…” I trailed off, struggling to put my feelings into words. “Honestly, I barely know her, but yeah, I mean… Idoreally like her—a lot. There’s something between us, and I’d like the opportunity to figure out what that something is. The thing is, she’s skittish, like a nervous puppy or something. It’s not anything she said, more her mannerisms—like she’s always looking over her shoulder. And I mean that both literally and figuratively. I don’t even think she realizes she’s doing it half the time.”

Christopher shook his head and leaned against the counter behind the bar.

“Do you know what I think?” he asked.

“What?”

“I think you should forget this girl and go find yourself a nice piece of tail. It’s been too long since you last got laid.”

“When I got laid last is none of your fucking business,” I snapped, and he chuckled.

“Okay, fine, don’t forget about her. How about this? Have you considered that maybe she’s not running from her husband? Maybe she’s in legal trouble. You said it yourself. You barely know her. She could be a criminal or something. Or maybe she’s a scorned bride out for vengeance—perhaps she murdered her husband.”

I pursed my lips and eyed him with annoyance. I was trying to be serious and he was making comparisons toKill Bill.

“You’ve watched too many Tarantino flicks.”

“It could happen,” he said with a shrug.

“It’s nothing like that, Chris. Do you honestly think I’d refer her to you for employment if I thought she was secretly a hardened criminal? I’m telling you, she’s just a scared girl. I feel this innate need to protect her. It’s weird. The problem is all the unknowns. I don’t know what I need to protect her from.”

Christopher topped off my half-empty glass of Sambuca and pushed a basket of crostini my way. I nodded my thanks for the refill and took a sip. Grabbing a crostini, I bit into it and chewed thoughtfully. Christopher stayed silent, knowing I was trying to work things out in my head. He was good like that. I was frustrated and concerned for so many reasons, but I couldn’t pinpoint what was bothering me the most.

“What are you thinking, brother?” he eventually asked.

---