Power Part 4

A deer caught in headlights. I knew that was how I must look to him, but couldn't seem to make my expression change in the slightest. I had climbed in and sat opposite Mr. Liam and vaguely noticed the uniformed driver in front. That was five minutes ago. He hadn't spoken, and while what happened earlier this morning wasn't my fault, I wasn't exactly feeling blameless. My stomach twisted in an uncomfortable acknowledgment of guilt, and I felt my face flush with anxiety. I should never have taken that package to begin with. Not that he had really given me much choice. He had all but forced it on me and shoved me out of his office. Yes, I got mugged and robbed of only that, and for that I just felt stupid.

Bottom line was that I had walked out of his office with package in hand because I had debated. The money had been tempting. Such a simple task it had seemed. What harm could there really be? I made a choking noise in my throat as I thought about that. Note to self: If I ever have to ask that question again, run as fast and as far as I can in the opposite direction.

"Something amusing Mr. Daniels?" Mr. Liam finally seemed to break what I could only guess was the silent treatment. Something about his formal and cold demeanor was seriously rubbing me the wrong way. Whatever the wrong on my part, this guy was a jerk. Who was he to treat me like I was a kid being picked up early because I got caught smoking pot in the school bathrooms or something? My temper had a long fuse, but it had been a long day and I felt the flame getting close. This guy better not press his luck any more today; I was from Brooklyn for crying out loud. Enough already.

"Amusing? Um, which part do you think I'd find amusing in all this? The part where you force some super secret package on me even when I tell you it's against the rules? Or wait, maybe you think it's the part where I go to your office to give it back to you, only to get mugged and slightly concussed for my troubles. No, wait, I know! The amusing part is because of this mess, I'm out an entire days wages. But instead of salvaging this wreck of a day with a homemade meal, I've been all but kidnapped with absolutely no idea what it is you want me to say. Yeah. I find all of it friggen hilarious." I felt my heart racing in my chest, but managed to keep my words clipped and coherent. Mr. Liam brought his hand to his mouth and rubbed his lips distractedly but I could have sworn for a second the corner of his mouth twitched.

He pulled his hand away to reveal a face devoid of humor. "Good. I'm glad we're on the same page here. I suppose things seemed a bit cloak and dagger this morning. You can appreciate now with a little more understanding my paranoia. My desire for secrecy." His clasped hands rested in between his knees. While still formal and pulled together, some of his exterior seemed to soften ever so slightly around the edges. Almost as if whatever this is or was, had become a burden he was tired of managing. Living your life in a constant state of putting out the latest crisis while holding it together for everyone that depended on you was something that I knew all too well. Something about his expression in that moment made me want to hate him a little less. Commiserate in our roles as the caretakers of other people's messes.

"Leslie. You had a sister who was killed when you were nine years old." I went from empathy to utter shock in a matter of seconds. His words felt like he had physically slapped me across the face, and I felt my head jerk back and then forward as if he had.

"Who...do you think you are?" I felt the flame reach the last bit of gunpowder. I could have sworn I actually heard the word Boom! in my head. I could feel my jaw working and spoke now through clenched teeth.

"It's not so much who I am, as it is who you are. The sooner you understand that, the safer off you'll be." Mr. Liam spoke as if unaffected by the unhinging of my temper.

My head was swimming. I could literally see flashes of red and blue at my peripheral vision. I was so angry, so confused. I could feel a nagging sorrow on the very edges of my patience, trying ever so slowly to invade. With years of practice I swallowed hard and made myself focus. I met Mr. Liam gaze for gaze and spoke only when I knew my voice would be steady.

"Leslie was my sister, yes. She died in a car accident when she was four, my mom was driving. To this day, she has never forgiven herself. The grief destroyed my family. My dad left us, my brother Riley, Leslie's twin, tries to put on a brave face every day like part of him isn't missing. I misspoke earlier. It's not so much that I don't know you, but that you don't know us. Don't speak of things to me that you don't understand and that to be blunt, are none of your business. I regret this whole day. I'm sorry that the package you gave me was taken. I'm sorry that I even took it in the first place. Whatever action you want to take against me, I'll handle. Please. Leave my family out of this," at that I could feel the grip on my control slipping ever so slightly and willed myself to hold it together.

"They have enough to deal with." was all I could think to add before sitting back in my seat, my gaze still fixed on his.

"I assure you I meant you no disrespect," his expression did look different. Slightly pained even. "I just need you to understand--"

"If you want me to understand so desperately, why don't you stop giving me weird anonymous packages to deliver with no explanation. Stop picking me up in cars with darkly tinted windows and speaking to me in code, and then talking to me about my dead sister as if you know me!" I shouted at him and could feel my fists tighten in response. Every fiber in my being knew I would feel a hundred times better if I could just clock this guy with a right hook.

"I assure you. Nothing I have done from the moment we met has been done lightly. Employing you this morning was not even my idea and completely against my better judgement. I knew you were too naive. Now I've a giant mess to clean up..." he trailed off and looked at a fixed spot out the window seeming to be momentarily lost in his own strange to do list.

"Well, thank you for going all cryptic again, but if it's all the same to you, I'm out."

"Out?" he echoed. He almost looked amused.

"Here," I said as I fished around in my messenger bag for my wallet. I pulled the still crisp hundred dollar bills out and shoved them towards him, so eager to be rid of it, it was a wonder it had ever been tempting. Mr. Liam put his hands up in a calming gesture indicating to put the money back where it came from. His expression just then stirred up a fuzzy memory from when I was young. It was my first baseball game and after striking out twice, I'd marched over to my dad and told him I didn't want to play baseball anymore. Dad had put his hands out just like that with a look that conveyed understanding mixed with a look of knowing things I didn't, but that I would see in time.
"You'll only get better if you keep at it." He had said to me then. It's hard right now because you've just started learning. If you quit now, you'll never know how good you could have been." With a pat on the shoulder he had sent me back to the dugout.

Mr. Liam's demeanor looked almost parental. Like he was needing to find a different way to explain things to a small child.

"Keep it. You've earned it with the day you've had today." He wasn't even looking at the money any more and I realized five hundred dollars was most likely petty cash to him. I thought about arguing further but suddenly felt like I hadn't slept in days. Fatigue began to swirl behind my eyes, and wearily I shoved the money back into my wallet. I leaned my head back against the leather headrest, resting my hands on my knees. I looked out the window for what seemed the first time, and realized where we were. The streets I had grown up on were coming into focus as I began to get my bearings of where we were. I should have been surprised that he knew where I lived without me telling him, but I simply wasn't. Whatever this was, it was bigger than just being asked on a whim by a casual business acquaintance to deliver a package. As we drove on in silence, my body felt heavy with exhaustion, but my mind felt wired. It felt as if I was being forced to view a painting from just a few inches away. I had a sense of bigger elements all around me, but all I could see was what I was immediately given. Without the full perspective, what I could see felt small and meaningless. What had he said earlier? The sooner I understood who I was, the safer I'd be? What was that even supposed to mean? I grabbed at a random thought buzzing past other thoughts at a hundred miles an hour in my brain, and blurted it out.

"What was in the package that was stolen?"

The car slowed and pulled in front of my house. The car in park, engine running, the driver pushed a button somewhere and a divider slid up, giving the illusion of privacy.

"A GPS navigation device." he said it so matter of fact I felt my mouth drop open a little in surprise.

"I got mugged for something you could pick up at any local electronics store?" I asked incredibly. Mr. Liam seemed to find that funny.

"I doubt the coordinates plugged into the one I gave you this morning, were also conveniently plugged into the ones at your local Radio Shack."

That bit of information shook me a little, but I quickly forged ahead with my questions. If he was explaining, the best thing I could do was keep up the momentum.

"Coordinates to where?"
"Well, now, Mr. Daniels. I could tell you but then I'd have to kill you."
"Be serious." I said rolling my eyes.

"Okay. I could tell you, but then someone else would probably kill you." I rolled my eyes again, but when I met his gaze this time there was no humor and a somberness around his eyes. I went to say something to that and ended up swallowing hard, pushing down a vague sense of panic that was rising in my gut. Ever so slowly I was backing up and getting a greater sense of the bigger picture. It hadn't ever occurred to me that what I'd end up seeing would be something life threatening.

"I think you need to tell me exactly what is going on here, and just how involved I am in whatever mess you've dragged me into." I leaned forward, my forearms bulging with that itch to hit something again.

"Not here son." And with that the conversation was over and I was being dismissed.

"Fine. Then where? And when?"

"I'll find you."

"Who are you? You are not a lawyer." I narrowed my gaze accusingly, watching his expression carefully. His eyebrows seemed to raise ever so slightly but ultimately he remained poised and calm as if I had just told him it might rain tomorrow.

"Well. We're just going to have to learn to trust each other, now won't we."

"Who do you work for? At least tell me that. Whoever employed you is in turn employing me. I have a right to know that." I had reached a dead end with his helpfulness but I couldn't help still pushing.

"Like I said, I'll find you. Not here--"

"Oh cut the crap! Like I'll even know who it is. Just give me a name, a company, something--you said I need to understand and yet you never explain yourself--"

"Jeffrey Daniels. I work for your father, Scott. And now, so do you."

I felt my face work through a myriad of emotions and it felt like a giant vacuum had emptied the car of air. With no outward reaction to the figurative bomb he had just placed in my lap, he reached around me and made quick work of the passenger side door. With a firm grip he indicated I was to leave, pushing on my elbow. A jumble of limbs and my belongings, I all but tumbled out onto the sidewalk in front of my house. The car pulled away from the curb, with just the answering click of the car door being slammed shut behind me.