Hard Beat

“True.” She snorts.

“Are we really doing this, Ry? I’d rather hear about home. How are Colton and the boys? Is the project still full steam ahead?” I attempt to change the topic and ask about the endeavor to build more houses for underprivileged boys; the project itself brought my sister and her now-husband together in an amusing set of circumstances.

“He’s good, the boys are great, and the project is challenging and incredible all at the same time. We can talk about them later. Don’t think for a minute I’m going to pass up the chance to make you squirm.” Her laugh is maniacal at best.

“You’re getting back at me for all the times I put those rubber snakes in your sheets, aren’t you?” The memory of her shrieking and throwing them at me brings a smile to my face some twenty years later.

“Paybacks are a bitch, aren’t they?” she says, her voice dripping in false sympathy. “Have you taken her on a proper date yet? I mean that’s super import —”

“Hey, Ry, I don’t mean to cut you off, but I have to go. Work’s on the other line,” I tell her as I glance quickly at my phone’s screen and see Sarge’s number.

“Convenient.” But I know she’s not really mad.

“Love you.”

“Love you too. Be safe.”

“Always,” I tell her before ending the call and accepting the new one. “Sarge? How goes it?”

“It’s going, brother. Another day in paradise, right?” he snorts, a sarcastic laugh following the noise.

“What can I do for you, man?” The hair on the back of my neck has started to stand up in anticipation as I hope for the holy grail here. Another embed mission where we can report in the thick of the action versus going out solo on our own to the safe and approved locations where you get the same old shit day in, day out.

“Just giving you a heads-up that things have gotten awfully quiet this week. Chatter is nil, so we’re thinking the meet’s going to happen soon.”

“And…?” I respond, knowing he’s asking something of me but wanting to make sure it’s exactly what I think it is. Need to know what chips I hold and how to play them to my advantage in the future when I need them.

“Just making sure that you pass along any information you may get from that source of yours. We wouldn’t want to get caught with our pants down.”

“Mmm-hmm.” It’s the only response I give him, my mind going a hundred miles an hour. Wondering if their intel has gone dry and now he’s fishing with me to see if I know something I’m not telling him.

“Hope to be talking to you soon, Thomas.”

“Sarge.” I know that’s his way of saying good-bye and giving me a warning all at the same time. Something’s going on, and now I just need to figure out what.

I sit on the edge of my bed and then lie back, eyes trained on the ceiling and the cracks I’ve memorized as I mull everything over. I guess the military is pretty desperate if they’re calling me up, trying to get information. It’s flattering and fucked up all at the same time. And not knowing what to make of it all other than Sarge is grasping at straws to get more information, I decide to do something that I never do. I text Omid.

Usually I wait for him to make contact with me; I don’t want to cause him any trouble should someone see a text, but I take the risk. The minute I hit Send, I wince and wish I could take it back, as my need to know doesn’t feel as strong as the need to not cause him trouble; in this place, that could mean the unspeakable. I don’t expect a response right away, and know if I lie here much longer, I’m going to go crazy.

Restless energy hums through me as I enter the lobby and look for Beaux to tell her what’s going on, but I can’t find her anywhere.

“Hey, Pauly?”

K. Bromberg's books