Lost With Lust

A broad shouldered man leaned against the wall of a cathedral on the outskirts of town. He took deep breaths of the smoggy, humid air, and occasionally took puffs of the cigar in his right hand. He looked up into the purple sky with unease, brushing his brown hair back and then rubbing his beard thoughtfully. He judged it was about eight-thirty--forty minutes later than the set meeting time. The fatherly part of his mind told him to worry, whilst the wiser part instructed him to ignore it and wait patiently. It was only a matter of time.

As he'd expected, five minutes later a black glossed van drove up the road in front of him and squealed noisily to a halt mere feet away. The right side door slid open silently and a tall, slender fellow in a black suit with a white tie, and jet black hair stepped purposefully out.
The bigger man called over to him: "Byron! I'd half expected you not to show, what gives?" His deep voice was hinted with light-heartedness, but also very grave. The skinny chap strolled over to him casually, as if nothing'd happened. "Ehh, we got a bit caught up, my man. Nothing to worry about." His composure was so relaxed; anyone with no experience with the kind of world the two of them worked in would have believed him. But this man was no such fool.

"Byron, yer lying to me. If you've no desire to explain the happenings, you'd have an easier time just saying so. I've known you fer too long, you can't lie to me without me noticing." Byron chuckled half-heartedly.
"You're good, Alexander. Alright, maybe everything wasn't as peachy as I came off about it, my man. But don't worry; it's all been taken care of." The burly man stared suspiciously at his friend. 'He obviously feels it's best not to speak about, so I'll let it go--this time.' He thought, curiously rubbing the hair on the side of his face.

"I notice your little slut's not in the van with you. Did you finally decide to put the bitch down?" He went on, changing the subject. Byron shrugged. She'd started asking too many questions. That's quite bad for a man of his... profession. "She got a little too talkative for my liking, my man. Didn't want her going around saying things she shouldn't. That's the last thing we need, especially not, my man." Alexander nodded.
"She was never to be trusted. Er, what was her name? Rachel, or something?" They both shared a laugh.

"Man, I don't remember the names of the bitches I pick up. Don't even worry about it." Byron paused thoughtfully. "Did you find any info about our bounty, my man?" The big man looked pensive for a moment as he recalled what he'd written down in his notepad.
"Yeah, but I don't see why this guy's got such a huge bounty. He's a scrawny little punk, that one. What's the threat?" The other man folded his arms with a slight grin.
"You know what's been said about questions, Alexander. Besides, he's got potential--which means he's trouble. We wanna deal with trouble before it starts." He sounded very sure of himself, but Alexander was still curious.

"But what if he wasn't? We could've just killed an innocent, what then?" Byron looked quizzical.
"What's it matter? It isn't like I can just drive back and tell him he's wrong, you know." He looked at the clouds forming. "Get in the van, we're going, my man, it'll rain soon."

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Nigel sat in the middle of the park, cloud-gazing as he took sips of a bottled water he bought from the store a few minutes ago. Streams of multi-colored leaves fell from the slumbering trees--autumn was arriving. Smells of grills and picnics wafted about lazily as sounds of children playing and dogs barking filled the area with a somewhat cheerful atmosphere. Nigel inhaled lavishly, but he just took another sip of water. He was finally allowing himself to relax, if only a little bit.

Looking around, he noticed a particular pair of children playing catch with a small rock. They seemed so happy and carefree and full of life and energy. Even though he himself was still young, it had been years since he'd been able to just enjoy himself in such an uncaring manner. Everything now was either full of pain and struggle or exhausting work. How he was still able to move was still a wonder, he thought sadly.

Around him, trees swayed this way in that on that blustery day, waving hello to all that passed by in their slow and careful way. The sun was high in the sky and birds were chirping freely as they scuttled about on their little lives. Everything seemed so at peace with itself, Nigel was almost jealous.
He took his phone out of his pocket and pressed the middle of the screen. It flickered once, and then lit up with a picture of him and his mother smiling in front of a sandcastle on the beach. ‘That was so many years ago…’ He muttered. With a swish of his thumb, the picture vanished, and was replaced with a home screen cluttered with apps. On the top of the screen was a small analog clock.

“Three-fifteen.” He whispered. He’d need to be at work in about three hours, but that wasn't what bothered him. Exhaling heavily, he stood and exited the park, his mind still buzzing from the memories that wouldn't go away.

“What am I going to do for three hours?” He asked in a lonely manner. Normally, he and Liana would go out and do something—just have fun together or hang out with friends. Since Liana had all of their phone numbers, he never bothered to get them since she called them every time; so he didn't have his friends’ numbers, and he didn't even know where they lived. He mentally kicked himself—the next time he saw them, he’d have to get the numbers programmed into his phone. Unable to find things to do, he headed back to the Hospital to see if there was any progress on Liana’s condition, even if he knew there wouldn't be, as they said they’d call him if there was.
Still he stuck his hands in his pockets, walked to his car, and drove off.

“Everyday’s been so slow with you gone.” He spoke aloud with the radio blaring her favorite song.