Page 58 of Stutter

Damon nods along. “I took out an LLC so I could start taking patients in the privacy of my home when I first bought it.”

I arch a brow.

He shakes his head. “In case Raven or Jonas were seen entering and leaving my home.”

Fucking smart, deviant man.

We break without so much as nods, going off into different sections, Damon and I going toward the psych department, Jonas taking our girl home.

Damon and I barely make it to lecture hall, splintering off in different directions so he can go up to his floor when my phone rings. I use my teeth to tear off my gloves and grab my phone from my front pocket so I can answer. I’m surprised to see an unknown number.

“Hello?”

“Mav,” her voice is low and hushed, almost a murmur. “Mav, I have that thing you need but I’m in Boston. I wanted to make it to you but Mav, I think we’re being followed.”

Just then an alert comes through my phone. I pull my phone away from my ear.

RMU CAMPUS CLOSED UNTIL MONDAY – HOME GAME CANCELED.

“Tasha where are you?”

“At the Four Seasons where you booked us.”

“Is this a burner?”

“How long until you can get here, Mav?” She sounds terrified, ignoring my question like it was rhetorical.

“With this weather? An hour. There’s a diner off Broadway and I-95. O’Malley’s. It’s a halfway point. Can you get there?”

There’s a pause and then a shaky breath before she replies, “Okay. I think I can do that but Mav-“

“Don’t waste time, Tasha. I’m already heading to my car.”

“Okay.” She replies and hangs up.

________

O’Malley’s is an open twenty-four-hour steeple in South Lynnfield with its yellow rooftop and blue lettering. It’s old and the grease in the fryers is probably just as old. It’s delicious in the moment but hell on you later. My cup of black coffee is steaming in front of me. The more I stare at it, the more it reminds me of motor oil in a cup.

The waitress, Sally, is wearing an old-timey waitress uniform has bags under her eyes and stained fingers that point to a smoking habit. A light fluorescent light that hangs behind her flickers in and out as she pops her pink bubblegum. She turns away from me with a shrug when the cook behind the window calls out an order and the bell dings.

I’msure I look out of place. I haven’t taken off my coat or made myself comfortable whatsoever, the only thing I’ve ordered is the motor oil. My eyes keep darting to the door whenever someone pushes through the double glass doors – which is now.

Tasha comes in, hood over her face, wearing all black, her eyes wide, darting all over the place and when she spots me, they narrow into slits. She sits in the cracked vinyl seat across from me in the booth. Hands shaking, she pulls out a manilla envelope from the inside of her jacket and almost throws it in my direction, the coffee spills but thankfully not on the envelope.

Tasha looks frightened and I can feel waves of tension rolling off her. I worked with this woman for years and even at gun point, has she ever shown that she was scared or intimidated, always joked that growing up in Brooklyn made her fearless.

“I want absolutelynothingto do with this.” She hisses. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re looking up, but I seriously think I don’t ever want to see you again.”

I expected that.

“Were you followed?”

“No.” She stays silent for a second as if trying to figure out what to say next. “Mav- whatever you’re doing… are you safe?”

I almost scoff but I keep my composure. “I don’t know, if I’m honest.”

“Mav-“ the concern in her voice makes me almost cringe because she didn’t deserve for me to bring her into this mess.

---