Peaches

Twenty Six

It seems as though I'm watching life go by around me, zooming through the air like small clips of time to show the pointlessness. Every moment was drawn out and tedious as if something should be happening, but just isn't. Each day was a repeat of the last, a long and torturous event that kept you on your toes, guessing what you might run into next.

Marcello seemed like just a bad dream at this point, but that kept me waiting for the next encounter. It couldn't be pleasant, could it? Would he know that It was in fact Chris, my  Chris that killed Victor?

Nobody was looking for Victor.

Chris and I had spent countless hours of our free time together planning out a small protection plan for me. I had new tricks and skills in my belt for all different kinds of interactions, whether it be with Marcello or any of the scum that comes through Honeys, Chris had me prepared. I now even carried a knife with me, something small to use in the worst of situations.

It was especially difficult to prove my loyalty to Chris when it seems the whole situation had never happened. 

Had Marcello grown tired of me? After that night in the limo, he had said he would return and now he still has yet to make any contact. Was he displeased with the contents of the videos, or had he simply gotten bored?

I was unable to make any clear conclusion to our problem, and neither was Chris. So, it was decided that we stay in communication as much as possible. At all costs, we had to be fully aware.

Though he tried to hide it, Chris was drowning in his responsibilities, and his workload was piling on by the minute. I had seen his scribbles of notes and unorganized thoughts that he threw down on to his wrinkled up papers while spending long hours on the phone. He was neck-deep in his own dance with danger. Instead of this horrible torture and abuse, he was put to tasks that would cost him severe jail time.

It wasn't only drugs, either. Chris was assisting a group of men in transporting illegal weaponry, and ammunition to other third parties that were in the market. From what I had gathered, he was growing to be quite a big name in his world, and it was consuming him. Each day that he dedicated all of his time to them, I lost him just a little bit.

He was a murderer, a savage in this world. Not who he wanted to be, but he was who he needed to be to live. To let me live.

I didn't have any place to question him.

I know that if I kept Chris involved it would be a sure risk to the idea of safety I thought I had in keeping myself quiet, but I found myself almost enjoying being so open with him. I didn't feel like I was cowering in fear anymore, worrying if Marcello was watching me, waiting for a chance to pull me into his trap. Chris was the one who was watching now.

Chris was gone a good majority of the time, spending whole days and nights with these so-called coworkers who he even named his friends at one point. Coming home late at night after three drinks too many, sleeping at nearly every chance he got, he was being worked to the bone. Fully exhausted to even function outside of work. It was practically a miracle at best to get him to spend the full entirety of the day with me.

I suppose I couldn't be too upset, all time spent apart from him allowed me time with Momma. It wasn't easy to just slide in and start spending time with her like it was nothing, she was still in a considerable amount of pain. The withdrawal that she was going through was not easily muted or tamed, she had to ride it out by the skin of her teeth day and night. Some days were better than others, as they always are, and I did what I could to make those days happen more often than not.

Momma liked going on long walks around the neighborhood, collecting strange rocks and crystals along the cracked and beaten paths we wandered. Not much was said, but we both were fond of the time spent.