Diner Talk

Four: Sing Like A Canary

Nathan

I fucking hated playing bait. I was sitting pretty in a gay bar, letting a serial rapist with a thing for redheads feel me up for what? Two favors? Peanut was at the diner doing the same thing, and she was probably having an even worse time. She had to do both her jobs while dressed up like pedophile catnip.

I sighed as the man leaned closer, his garlicky breath fanning over my face as he told me more about his chemistry degree. The man's eyes had a yellowish tinge to them too. His liver was failing, probably thanks to all the alcohol he consumed on a daily basis. I once again vowed to never try and find happiness in a bottle.

He put a hand on my arm, and then I felt him move it a little bit behind me, right where my beer was. I heard a soft swish, like pouring sugar, and he leered at me. Bingo.

The comm in my left ear crackled slightly, and I heard Mr. B's voice. "We have his face and his hands on video from three separate angles. Let's finish this."

On cue, Silas walked into the bar. People stepped out of the way for him, not wanting to get hit by his swinging arms or huge strides.

He spotted me and I watched him frown. "What are you doing here?" He boomed. His voice was loud and imposing, but anyone who had spent more than an hour with the guy knew that Silas was soft in the middle. Well, metaphorically soft. I'd felt the guy's abs, and they were rock solid.

I let my eyes widen. "Just having a drink, Christos. I thought you had the late shift?" The target's face dropped, and I cheered internally. I didn't have to spend another minute in his garlicky, jaundiced presence.

"Well I don't. And when I called you didn't pick up. Why the hell are you here of all places?" He stepped closer to me, and the target took a step back.

"I just wanted one nice evening out. It's been a hard week." Silas snorted and crossed his arms, forcing the target to take another step back or get elbowed. I needed to get him flowers or something.

"You always do this. We fight and you run away. Why can't we just talk about it?" Silas was causing a scene, and now the man couldn't just inject me with something and drag me home stumbling like I was drunk, like he did with his third victim.

"I'm not having this argument in public. Let's just go home, you ruined my night anyway." I grabbed my drink and slipped off the stool. Silas put a hand possessively on the small of my back and we walked out of the now quiet bar. We'd be someone's weird story of the night, but ultimately forgettable. I threw the bottle in the trash on the way out. Someone would come later to pick it up and test whatever he had tried to give me.

"Good job, Mr. Griffin, Mr. Korba. Go home and get to sleep." Mr. B crackled away. He didn't like talking over the comms; he preferred to just call us when we got home.

I slid into the passenger's seat of North's backup car and relaxed into the leather, tearing the comm out of my ear and stuffing it in the glovebox. I was sure I could wash all the creep off of me, debrief with Mr. B, finish my homework and eat dinner by eight thirty. Maybe I could take a crack at Sang's homework too. She was bound to be exhausted.

Silas put the car in drive and focused on the road. He was quieter than normal. He had never been the most talkative guy, but I'd learned to look forward to his steady, measured voice. "You okay, man?"

His hands tightened on the wheel, then relaxed. "I'm worried about Aggele. She's already shaken up after Rocky and Jade, and now she has to let these people touch her. I know she volunteered, but it feels wrong to make her go through that again."

I grimaced, remembering how she had shown me where Jade had touched her with wide, terrified eyes. Her tears, asking how I knew it would get better one day. The truth was that I hadn't known, still didn't know. My mother left before anything could change. "I know what you mean. She was so damned scared; it's like we got her out of the frying pan and then launched her onto the surface of the sun."