The Temp (22 page)

50

Tonight was Jensen’s lucky night.

He’d sat in a grey sedan outside the marked building for god knows how long. Two women had walked in, one of them fitting the description of the one he’d been told to find. He’d snapped the photos of her on his phone and sent them to the boss.

The message came minutes later.

Keep watching, no sudden moves.

The last bit was like a punch to the gut. As if he was unable to follow simple orders.
No sudden moves,
fine, he could follow those orders. 

At least the address had been right. He, the company even, hadn’t known for sure. A lot of favours had to have been called upon to get an address. As an Associate, that’s all Jenson knew. Associate was just code for bottom of the ladder.

He’d watched a little more closely after he was sure she was there, he’d kept an eye out for the lights in the building. So when the girl stepped out, he was sure she lived in one of the side apartments.

The lights there had been turned off seconds ago, only a small window gave a clue to the location around the side.

If he stepped out into the side alley, he might see her, given the angle, she might be able to see him too, which is why he didn’t.

She couldn’t know she was being watched, or that he was waiting. Waiting wasn’t his strong suit. Hours later, he finally got lucky when she stepped out of the building. Maybe she was out for a stroll.
Good. Let’s take a stroll together, shall we?
At the time she’d stepped out he’d been smoking a cigarette on the side of the street. He snubbed out his cigarette as the girl came out under the streetlight.

Jeez, she was a stunner; even from here he could tell. She wore one of those short black jackets opening up at the top in a wide arch revealing her fair skin. Her hair was clipped up and trailing in escaped tendrils, oh how he loved those escaped tendrils, like some wild she-demon. She was anything but wild; she kept her head down and her hands in her pockets. She was smart, not flaunting it, keeping to herself.

Exactly how he liked them.

It wasn’t a bad neighbourhood, one could never be too careful. Jenson crossed the street a few paces behind her, pulling his jacket collar up so as to obscure his face. The night wasn’t too hot for it to be suspicious. He trailed after her. He was a big guy though he knew how to step lightly, how to sneak up on unsuspecting victims.

This wasn’t his first time.

She was lucky the boss hadn’t put a hit on her. The man merely wanted to talk to her. Talk, a meaning for something else, the orders had been very unspecific. Maybe she had information he needed. Maybe a little one-on-one time would be required.

As she walked down the street Jenson had time to take in her looks. Her legs were slim and dressed in those tight fitting jeans so many of the youth were wearing these days. It really made for a satisfying job description. She wore those short booted heels tap tapping like a homing beacon. She was an easy mark from here on out. So he could fall back a little.              

This was his first solo job, unescorted. He’d been with the company for near over a year and was quite surprised to be given the job in the first place. He was the least experienced of the family. The least. Everyone else, had been there five, ten, fifteen or more than twenty years. This job was his chance to get himself in league with the rest of them. To step up on the ladder, so to speak.

He’d been given a chance. He wasn’t going to disappoint. He had limited information on the girl. She’d come up on the radar after so many years in hiding was the word. They hadn’t said how. She was pretty in a shy way, the boss was far older and the age her dad could be. Hadn’t stopped him in the past, she didn’t look like she went for the older gent anyway.

Her steps sped up. Maybe she was on to him.

Jenson sped up too, he took out his cell.

If the girl was spooked they’d have to act fast. She wouldn’t give them a chance like this again. He could have the others here in a few minutes. He had a vague idea of where she was headed.

He made the call.

51

Eve crossed the street.
Her hands pinched into her jacket pockets.
Keep it together.
She glanced both ways to cross and chanced another look at the man she could have sworn was following her.

He was close by.

She hated what she was wearing, how stupid. To think she could run to the shops in skimpy jeans and boots. Her stomach rumbled, she urged on.

There were two situations she’d run into here. Her mind tried hard to give her the logic, to reason so she wouldn’t overreact and do anything stupid.

She’d had a lot of crap to deal with in the last few months. The blackmailing had put her senses on high alert. It wasn’t the first time she thought she’d been followed.

She may be acting paranoid. It was the better of her two situations. The other, was he
really
was following her. There was only one way to find out.

She merely had to go two more blocks. The night air was infused with barbecue, a roast on someone’s rooftop. Eve felt herself dangling on a spit. Alone. So very alone. She could turn back any moment. She could. And what? Face the man head on?

He was bigger than her, bigger than the average guy and her knowledge in self defence was limited. All she knew to do was scream and even then she was afraid her lungs would fail her. She’d left her phone dangling on the charger, the very words they’d carve into her gravestone when all this was over. She turned her attention down the street in the midst of absolute darkness and knew without a doubt her situation was dangerous.

There was no taxi stand, only feeble street lights from high up that wouldn’t help her if someone came up behind. They’d only watch from the windows, maybe yell out and call the police who would arrive minutes later. 

A lot could happen in those minutes. 

Eve pushed on. To turn back at this point would be just as dangerous, besides the shop she needed to get to had a taxi stand and a pay phone so at least from there she’d drive back in safety.

The side alleys only grew in darkness. It was only a few more of these nooks before she’d reach a busier street, busier meaning a night club on that corner. Unwanted attention. At least she wasn’t on show. At least her skinny jeans would give her a chance at running away, if it came to it. She wasn’t showing skin, though her clothes were more form fitting than she would have liked them to be right now.

Her boots were a feint tap tap as she sped along. That wasn’t what scared her. A tap tap at least let her know she was alive. It was the tap tap tap out of sync to hers that had her heart racing, her adrenaline surging. It was feint and well disguised, she heard it all the same. Eve had only two more streets to pass before there was even a slither of safety.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

There it was again.

And finally the alleyway broke into a street. The night club, its entryway in neon lights, a queue slinking around the building moving slowly along.

Eve slowed to the entrance; the bouncers were more menacing than she remembered. She wanted to call for help. She would have, if it weren’t for the two bouncers that came crashing out with a body between them.

The man amidst them struggled and threw a punch, it landed and the bouncer put him in a choke hold. He went out cold, slinking to the ground. The two bouncers stood over him all powerful and in control. She saw the look in their eyes.

That night came haunting back to her, how she’d tried her best to forget it. She’d wanted to see her Papa. She’d hidden in the cupboard in his office so she could surprise him.
Papa!
He came in followed by the Bear, that’s what she called him because of the scar running down his face and his name. She couldn’t remember his name now, only the Bear, the scar face.

She stayed put in the cupboard, Papa never wanted her around when he had business to attend to. Papa sat behind the desk, he called it his seat of power. Another man came in, shouldered by two men carrying him. His face was smashed like a pumpkin.

Evee watched in frightened silence.
Papa?

Her heart pounded loud, unbearably loud.
Make it stop. Make it go away!
It didn’t matter how hard she pleaded with herself she couldn’t un-see the memory.

She’d watched her own father put a gun to the man’s head. The moment had only lasted a second and yet how a lifetime had spanned in those seconds.

The man had fallen to the floor and it was the first time Little Evee understood death and the role her father played. He was death. It was odd how it happened at the time, no sound, nothing. As if it was simply a game, the dead man would jump up any second and cry
boo!
The man did not jump up, instead a pool of crayon red spilled out around him.

Little Evee could not look away.

A game. Little Evee didn’t surprise her father that night. She stole into her bedroom and went to sleep all the while the memory of the man and the gun rested at the back of her mind, until one day she fully understood exactly what she’d seen.

Eve panted, stepping back from the night club and moved on. It had been years since she’d brought up that memory, years and all too soon it was there at the back of her mind taunting her once more. She’d never told anyone, not even Grams.

That man had really died.
Your daddy is a killer.

She kept on ignoring the memory, as if it were even possible. She had to concentrate, survive. It was only a few more turns, a few more steps. She’d get there eventually.

There were no taxis in sight, it didn’t matter. Eve felt the palpable safety of almost reaching her destination. For a while she’d considered not going to the shops, her stomach growled telling her there was no other way.

Only two more streets.

The street lights huddled in greater numbers. People moved around, despite that most of them were intoxicated. How bad could it be?

Maybe she had an ally among them. Maybe not.

She walked out of the night club corner, its base dying out of earshot no longer masking her crackerjack heartbeat.

That’s when she saw the shadows approach her.

More than one.

Eve ran.

52

Eve ran in the wrong direction.

She didn’t realise it at first. Her mind wasn’t flipping thoughts rationally. She ran.

Eve forget her voice, forgot where she was going. She should have screamed. It was too late. She ran straight into the wire mesh of the fence.

The fence rattled.

Her heart rattled.

That’s when the shadows crept from the other end of the alley.

They had her cornered. They had her.

“Go away or I’m calling the police.” Her efforts were futile. She hadn’t taken her phone. How could she be so reckless? So stupid? Her fingers gripped the wire mesh and rattled again as two shades came out of the shadows. Hooded men in jackets, their faces obscured. Her heart lurched again. There was no other situation possible anymore, except this, no mistaking their intent. It was her and them, no paranoia.

She’d been followed all along.

The metal wire bit into her fingers, Eve didn’t care. She yanked herself up and dug her boots into the caged holes. Her body resisted, her mind pushed on. The mesh bent her way but held and Eve brought herself up a few feet. It was painful; she had hardly any upper body strength. Still it was working; adrenaline gave her the boost she needed. She didn’t look back. There wasn’t time. She flipped her leg over the precipice of the wire mesh, the metal spikes cut into her thighs, forcing it anyway. The mesh rattled beneath her. She was barely out of reach; if they climbed they would get her.

They were men after all and she was a little girl.

She had no other choice, none other. She had to jump.

The wire mesh shook beneath her. At least one man was heading up, scarcely within reach. He could reach out and…

She jumped. Landed on her side. The pain shot up her ankle, sharp and intense. The adrenaline saved her from the full affect. She staggered up with her hands and knees, bruised and bloodied. Limped. One foot in front of the other.

The ankle kicked in. She ran. Albeit. Slower. Still she ran.

And then. Doof. She screamed.

She ran straight into him.

53

“Eve, it’s alright it’s me, Trigger.”

He gripped her sides holding her upright. She panted. Hunched forward.

“Trigger,” she breathed. “What are you doing”-Eve had a moment’s breath before the wire mesh behind her shook like a rattle snake. Her eyes widened and the blood drained from her skin. 

“We have to get out of here. Trigger, run,” she grabbed. He was an anchor. “Please,” she yanked his arm. “There were these guys they’re”-she grabbed her side and panted. “They were following me,” in the splintered light tears streaked her cheeks.

“Eve,” he gripped her body. “You’re hurt, what happened?” He wasn’t getting it, how could he? She was hysterical.

Eve threw a glance back at the wire mesh. “They’re coming.”

Trigger pulled her upright just as the fence stopped rattling and the men approached. He pushed Eve behind her, shielding her as he squared up. “Fuck off or I’ll call the police,” he bellowed into the night. Eve jumped.

This didn’t deter them. The men approached wearily. Two forms spilled in shadows and shapes. Their steps slowed, they approached with caution.

Trigger stood strong, erect, his feet parted. His fists bunched. “I’m warning you to leave this woman alone.”

The men kept on.

Eve screamed a small whimper.

And then the first punch was thrown and he went down.