Counting Paths

Chapter 25.

James Tide Wilson, also known as JTW, is an FBI agent who's been trying to catch me for the last five years. He's not like any of the other officers or detectives or agents I've ever met, he's more of a pain in the ass. He's definitely more cocky about his work and he's like a dog with a bone, he won't fucking quit, there's no limit with this guy. And that's exactly why I'm worried because he mentioned Sterling.

"You're late," Wilson singsong as I approach our table in the corner of the diner. He's staring at a menu, doesn't even glance in my direction when I take a seat across from him.

A waitress stops by and places a menu in front of me. "How are you doing tonight? My name is Elaine and I'll be your waitress. Can I start you off will drinks?"

"We're ready to order," Wilson says, putting down his menu. "We'll have two chicken Caesar salads and two bottled waters, but can you bring two glasses with ice?" His fucking mind games are irritating. Why would he order something at all? We never go anywhere above a sandwich when we have these little meetings.

"Of course. Will that be all?"

"I'm not getting anything," I say. "I'm not staying."

"Oh?" Wilson arches a thick brow. "But we have lots to talk about."

I peer up at Elaine. "Go."

She glances at Wilson nervously, takes our menus, then walks away.

He exhales heavily. "That was rude."

"You've mistaken me for someone that gives a fuck."

He narrows his eyes at me, a plastered grin on his face. "How have you been, Roland? How are you doing? How's life going?"

I roll my eyes. "I'm not in the mood, Wilson. You know why I'm here-"

"You must be good. I mean, look at you! Look at her..." He reaches into the inside pocket of his silver suit and pulls out a photo. He places it on the table between us. It's a photo of Sterling and Kevin walking down a busy street. I remind myself not to show any emotion, the slightest reaction gives him the upper hand. He puts down another photo of Sterling and me at the mall with Kevin trailing us. "Y'all look happy! You must've been real excited to find out your dad, huh?"

I don't say anything.

His smile only becomes less fake and grows more cocky. "Do you ever get nervous having a girl? My boyfriend and I are talking about adopting and I want a kid, but I want a boy more. To constantly worry about a girl, scared she's going to get her heart broken, scared she's going to be used sexually, scared she's going to get hurt just walking around in the world running errands. You never know who's lurking in the shadows."

Without thinking, I inhale sharply as I sit up and square my shoulders.

He smirks, receiving his upper hand happily. "She looks good, but you, at the moment, do not. You look like you had a rough night. I notice your hand was bandaged up."

"I tried to catch a glass and it broke," I mutter.

"Nothing you can't handle, right? Look at you! Covered in scars and tattoos. A tiny little cut like that, I'm surprised you even have it wrapped up."

"What do you want?"

"I want to have a real conversation with you. I asked how you were doing, can you at least return the favor?"

"Fuck you," I say as nicely as I can manage.

"I wonder where Elaine is," he says, glancing around the diner. "Anyway," he looks at me again. "I've been pretty...busy the last few months. Honestly, my life's been hell. They're considering moving me at work because of you."