FREE FLYING HEARTS -- A collection of short stories from Tonig73

Blood On His Hands

Two Conversations

Conversation Number One  --  One week after Reigns death.

You would have thought Royalty was coming.  He'd tidied his room, made sure the dishes were put away, the carpet was vacuumed, and the air freshener was put about, but a gentle waft, not an all out assault to the olfactory senses.  He happened to be outside putting out the garbage when the car drew up, the polished black behemoth with tinted windows, barely getting through the allotted space allowed for more regularly sized cars.  No one in apartment complexes like this one entertained the type of people with such large cars, or even larger amounts of money.  It looked like the Mafia was moving in.  His phone rang. 

"I can see you.  Very subtle Laurent, very subtle."

"No one knows it's me, I don't care about the fucking car.  Come down here."

"But I've just ... I made brownies ... " he sulked.

"Then bring the damn brownies with you, Jordan, just get your ass down here.  And bring some milk."  Jordan harrumphed, his shoulders slumping visibly.  He's spent all this time getting ready for his guest, and now it seemed that said guest didn't give a fuck.  The sight of the large man approaching the large car, a bottle of ice cold milk in one hand, and a flimsy paper plate of brownies wobbling around in the other, was comical to say the least.  The driver opened the back door for him, Laurent's face hidden in the shadow of the cars interior.  

"These are for you."

"Thank you, you shouldn't have."  Sarcasm, front and centre.  

"You could have come up, Laurent."

"No, I couldn't.  You want someone to see me, to put 2 and 2 together and actually make 4 ?"  Jordan gave him a look.  "Didn't think so."  Laurent chugged the milk from the small glass bottle, a couple of stray drops escaping the corner of his mouth, which he wiped on the sleeve of his shirt.  "God, that was good."  Jordan sat next to Laurent in the large car, waiting for him to start the conversation.  When Laurent had let it be known he needed to see him, his heart squeezed in his chest.  Why was he relying on this man to keep him safe and unharmed anyway ?  He hardly knew him.  Yet he was willing to take Laurent's money and run.  

"Why'd you run, Jordan ?  I told you I'd look after you, and I will.  You didn't believe me ?"

"She was already dead, Laurent, somebody else got there first.  I just freaked."  

"Yeah, I know.  I didn't know she had that many enemies, but then again ... "  Yes, Reign Summers did have enemies, but enough that were willing to kill her ?

"Larry ?  He'd certainly have more than enough reason ... "

"No,"  Laurent snorted in amusement, "He doesn't have it in him."  Laurent smiled at that reassuring reasoning.  His Larry wouldn't hurt a fly, he was sure of it.  "No, it was a professional job, a sloppy job, but it was a hit.  And Larry couldn't afford to pay someone to do it.  I need to make more inquiries."  Laurent was halfway through his second brownie, and had gulped down all the milk.

"Jeez, don't you get fed at home ?"  Jordan was more than amused.  "So, what now ?"

"You come back, you say you made a mistake by running, you were scared, traumatized by discovering Reign's body, blah, blah, blah.  We hire you an outstanding attorney, should they charge you, but they won't"

"How do you know that ?"

"Because I've worked hard to put enough in their way for them to not even think it was you, let alone enough to investigate."