Five Steps Ahead

SEVEN

Step 2: Building

You would think I knew her personally the way I spread my information. Not only that, it almost seemed like she cared. What if she does? She came here for a piece of security footage, yet here we are, split by my kitchen island on our fourth glass of wine, discussing my family. I never worried about women because I never fell for one, but I'm on my way to thinking twice about not killing her. That is, of course, if I realize I can trust her. She's still the feds, and there's no way she'll choose a murderer over her profession. But the way she's engaging in learning about my life and my hardships makes me believe she's somebody regular. Still, she seemed so familiar. Looking at her put a feeling in my heart that I had felt once before.

..........

"Don't you ever get lonely in here?" I asked.

"I'm honestly hardly ever here. You'd be surprised over how much I'm gone. Whenever I'm here, I think of pure relaxation; I know it won't last for long." Joe began walking along his black carpet. "What about you, Ms. Lawyer? Why haven't you found a man to accompany you?"

I felt instantly embarrassed by his inquiry. Since I've lived, I've been concentrating on books, striving to excel that I've never even thought about a guy or finding love twice. I've kissed a boy once in my whole life, but only because it was during a game of spin the bottle at a frat party. 22 years old has been looking so amazing on me without love that I never even wondered what it feels like to love. Behind him, I followed and continued the conversation by saying,

"I'm accustomed to living and thriving on my own. I don't need a man to accompany me," I answered, trying to sound as strong and independent as possible.

"The way you walk on the streets downtown at night tells me otherwise. Who's keeping you safe out there? You obviously don't know any better." He joked.

We had reached his rooftop swimming pool at this time. Dispersed for decoration around the pool area were the same gold diamonds that bordered his black carpet. The extravagance would make you want to dive. At least that is what I thought after watching Joe take his shirt off carelessly and backflip into the pool.

"I have a best friend who gets paid to carry guns around. I'm safe enough, sir." I rolled my eyes and sat in the water at the edge of the pool, dangling my feet; I felt relaxed enough to do so.

He shook his head in disappointment and continued to meddle with me. The discussion broadened, enduring longer than an hour. There we were conversing endlessly about one another on the housetop pool. Our personal lives were the main topic of any statement out of our mouths. As time passed, I figured increasingly more about Joe; Or Josephere Amir Hart, a 24-year old African American man from Houston, Texas (born and raised). The first house in which he resided was this mansion. He lived in an apartment with his mother until 16 years old, when his dad murdered her. After killing his father, Joe took the money that his mother had set aside for a house, escaped Texas, and fled to Peoria. He was homeless here for three years before a miracle-like coincidence happened to him. A Mexican American gangster saw him resting in front of the Riverfront and demanded that he have security while attempting to survive in the 'streets,' so the man gave him a weapon. The very next day, you wouldn't believe what happened. In the Riverfront parking lot, two parents were mugged and slaughtered in front of their three children, with Joe as a witness. Without even a moment's pause, he raised the weapon and shot the killer in the rear of his skull. He nurtured the three kids as gangsters, stole guns for their possession, and established NSG with them as his absolute first delegates. For most of his life, Joe has been holding hands with his depression. Just as I could give you a storyline about him, he could do the same for me.

For hours we had gone on and on about each other that I'd forgotten the real reason why I showed up: The footage. I looked at the time, and it was pushing 5:00. I'd better hurry to collect the information I came here for if I didn't want Brit calling me in the next 30 minutes. I began to interrogate Joe in which lasted for only 10 minutes. I took footage from his security cameras and his cell phone that would prove that the girl didn't even have proof of what she said happened; this would result in Joe's innocence. Court day was two days away, and I was going to enjoy it. Not because I knew I would keep my life, but because I knew I was helping a man with a heart who truly wanted to help others. I collected all of my belongings and walked out of the door with Joe behind me, guaranteeing my safety.

Just before pulling out of his driveway, I called out, "See you on Tuesday, Joe!"

Oh, what a man! I was so pleased with him, given all that he's experienced. Is it a sin to glorify a murderer?