Page 32 of Stalk

His face turns to look at mine. “Ten years. I’ve completed one and a half.” He sighs. “But something tells me that if I make it long enough to actually complete that contract, I won’t just get to walk away. She’ll get rid of me in one way or another.”

“Your boss?”

“Yeah.”

“She sounds like a bitch.”

“That’s an understatement, but sure.”

I think over everything Ren has confided in me thus far and consider how we met, coming to the most probable conclusion. “You do not share the passion your mother had for what we do.”

“Another understatement.” Ren takes the last sip from his glass. “I thought I’d be finishing up my undergraduate degree by now. I thought I’d be preparing for med school—not—notthis.I wanted to save people for a living. Ironic, isn’t it?”

“Is that why you think she set you up?”

Ren shrugs. “I am definitely a disappointment to her. But as much as I despise the work, I get it done. No matter what, though, nothing I do is ever good enough for her.”

“I think we need to talk about this in more depth. In private.”

Ren snorts. “What more is there to discuss?”

A lot more. A lot.

Something tells me I won’t be getting rid of Ren anytime soon, after all.

Twenty minutes later, after we each had one more glass of wine at the bar, I finally convince Ren to come back to my hotel so we can talk in private. Granted, it might not be under the greatest circumstances. Even though I’m used to drinking wine, I’m feeling tipsy, and Ren definitely is, too. That’s fine with me, though, because I’m not sure I’d get Ren to open up like this if he was sober.

I wait until getting the confirmation text from Marco that he’s parked outside before I tell Ren it’s time to leave. If I was traveling with someone else, I would never have brought Ren around after Zìa’s orders to stay away. Zìa may be Marco’s direct boss, but he’s here for me, and I trust him to not rat me out. He knows I wouldn’t disobey Zìa unless I thought it was important.

We hop in the back seat of the SUV, because despite myverymixed feelings about Ren, I don’t want him to feel uncomfortable. He doesn’t know Marco, and I’m sure he’s still skeptical about me as it is. If so, the feeling is mutual. I want to help him, because it seems like he has no one locally who can, but that doesn’t mean I trust him.

“Ciao, ciao,”Marco greets our visitor once we’re strapped in. “I am Marco.”

Ren attempts to send Marco a pleasant smile, but it just looks like he smells something bad. “Ren.”

“Not much of a talking man, eh? I like him!” Marco laughs.

At first, I think I hear Ren say something, but it’s so quiet, I can’t be sure. Then, Ren clears his throat and speaks louder, with more confidence. “They.”

Marco goes quiet.

I ask, “They? Who are you talking about?”

Even in the dark car, I notice Ren fold into himself. Something has made him uncomfortable, but I don’t understand what. He continues to confuse me, over and over again.

“I’m non-binary,” Ren says. He—theyswallow roughly. “I prefer they-them pronouns, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not!” Marco reassures quickly.“Grazie.I like that you tell me.”

I look at Ren, finally feeling like I understand them.“Loro.In Italian, we refer to they-them asloro.”

“Loro.”Ren tries the word out. “I like that.”

Where I come from, we are very accepting of the LGBTQIA community. I grew up around many queer people across the LGBTQIA spectrum. My Prozìa Beatrice married her wife in her forties, and they both died old and happy, only two months apart from one another. But this is a new one for me. I’m sure I’ve met nonbinary people before, only I didn’t know—just like with Ren. I’m not very familiar with what it means or why some people are nonbinary and others are not. I hope I don’t mess up Ren’s pronouns. I’m going to try not to. Either way, I’m glad they told us.

Somehow, within the last half hour or so, I realize that Ren is less annoying to me. They aren’t making me feel as violent as last time. I don’t know why, or what that means. I shift uncomfortably in my seat.

My thoughts consume me, and as Ren and Marco make small talk, I look out the window and stare at the Washington monument in the distance. I wish the city lights could ease all the pesky feelings rising up to the surface thanks to alcohol and getting to know Ren more. I wish I was back home in Venice on my balcony, overlooking the plants and smoking a cigarette.

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