Frost And Flame

20

I'm so tired of people trying to tell me what is and isn't my business. To stop putting my nose where it does belong.

It's alway; Jake, you snitch! Or Jake, you betrayed us??

I'm an informant. It's literally my job to make it all my business. There's a reason everyone comes to me for information. High profile targets like Silver or Obama can't even blink without me knowing.

This is why I am aware that I currently have two tails. I'm not sure they even recognize that they're both following me. It's pretty safe to assume one is Silvers. Odds are the other works for Slate.

The real question is, do I stop them, stare em down, or lose em? If I stop them, I might get in trouble with someone. Especially Silver. He's the kinda guy who thinks he has the right to know my comings and goings. If I stare them down, I'll probably scare them off, but then they'll be right back tomorrow, and I'll have the sane problem all over again. If I lose them, they'll get in trouble, and I'll be fine. Unless they catch on. And who's to say they're just following me? There's equal probability that they're on their way to abduct me at the first opportunity they have.

I need to catch their faces before I can make a decision. So I keep walking down the busy city street and duck into a department store. I get some weird looks, but that's to be expected. I'm wearing a full-face mask and a trenchcoat. Obviously, I don't wear this everywhere. It's to conceal my identity. One tail waltzes right in while the other is more cautious. This should be easy. After failing to get them to walk past all the mirrors in the displays, I buy a small paperweight. It's heavy enough to be a weapon if i need it, but I can also keep suspicion at bay by justifying coming in here.

Then I head to the nearest bar. They both follow this time. I head up to the alcohol counter and ask the man behind the counter for the vodka on the bottom shelf behind him. He ducks down, and I make direct eye contact with the less intelligent of my two stalkers. Which tracks. Because it's Ed. Silver's idiot lackey.

Just entering the front door is someone in a bomber jacket trying to be inconspicuous. But it's 98 degrees outside, so that failed. I'm 99% sure I saw him before, too. A charcoal elemental that I believe works with Slate. Sometimes, I hate being wrong.

"Jack Daniel's, right, Ed?" I ask him, not turning around. He freezes like a deer in headlights.

"A cranberry wiskey for my friend here too. Jack Daniel's if you have some." I ask the bartender. He only grunts in acknowledgment

"How did you know that's my favorite drink?" Ed asks me, awkwardly sitting down. I just glance at him with a grin, never looking away from the guy by the door. I hate not knowing someone I should.

"Listen, I know you better than Silver does." I inform him. He puffs up a bit.

"Oh yeah? Prove it." He insists.

"Are we doing this right now?" I sigh. One look tells me we are. Fine.

"You sleep with a stuffed elephant every night. Its name is Mr. Cheeseballs and he was a gift from your grandmother for Hanukkah qhen you were 6. You haven't seen him in a while, though, because Sammy made your bed last week and accidentally knocked him into the hap between your bunk and the wall. You're allergic to yellow die. Your social security it 577-4238-9" I stop when he puts his finger up to my mask where my mouth would be, his face bright red.

"I get it. Jeez." He murmurs, taking a sip of his drink.

"What I DONT get is why you're here. Silver sent you, of course. But why?" I ask him, swirling my shotglass around.

"He wants to talk with you." Comes the reply. Yeah, right. Sver never just wants to talk.

"Well, I'd be happy to, except you're not the only one following me." I inform him. He immediately straightens up and begins to look around. I sigh

"Eddy. Ed. Just stop. Look through the mirror." I tell him, and we make eye contact in the crystal.

"See that elemental in the back? The one in the bomber jacket? It's him." I say.

Ed still turns to look, but I grab him and stop him from turning.Looking through the mirror, he finally finds the guy I'm talking about.

This won't be hard. Even silver's stupidest lackey can handle it. All I really need is a distraction. Then I can go home, say goodbye to my kids, and go meet up with silver.

See, the issue here is that someone always wants you dead when you're the middle man. I have mouths to feed. As long as I am always in the know, I'm in control. I don't need to win this turf war on elementals. I just need to be on the winning side.

Ed was rather incompetent,but for someone who just learned to load the gun he was issued last month, he met expectations as a distraction. As he went to confront my other stalkers, I slap a 50 on the counter and slip past the greatful bartender to the back exit  and into the alley. No one follows. Just in case, though, I make sure to make unpredictable moves as I maneuver the backstreets of the city where I thrive.

After that, I slip into the subway to ditch the mask and jacket. Contrary to popular belief, I don't take it everywhere. I need to eat and drink, after all.

I catch the green line home to my neighborhood and head inside to find my family waiting. Lola and PB are waiting for me, excited as always. Although Coral seems as unenthuseastic as she could be expected to be. She's 4 tears old, after all.

I ruffle Loras blonde hair while I move to pick PB up from the ground.

"How's my babies? Did you miss me all day?" I baby talk to them, holding PB in the air.

In response, peanut butter links my face, and I laugh as Lora jumps with her paws on my thigh. What, did you think I had ACTUAL children? In this economy?

Coral blinks at me from her tank. She's a rescue beta. Petco left her traumatized, but her 50-gallon community tank seems to make her happy. The tetras leave her alone, and she seems to have befriended the Cory catfish I gave dubbed ponyo.

Denise is the little old lady next door who lives on social security. She feeds my babies every day for 100 bucks a week. Not that I need her to unless I'm gone for days. The food dispenser is on a timer. She just has to make sure it's full. But I have money to spare, she needs the money, and my poor babies need some affection.

"Hey, hey. Calm down, peanut butter. Calm down, boy." I shush my barking chihuahua. I love him. But holy shit. C h i l l.

"Silver is a whiny ass bitch and wants daddy to go on anothermission for gim. Daddy will be back but it will be a while. Ok?" The baby talk ensues.

I walk the dogs, deep clean the tank, and dust the house. I leave another 100 on the table and head out again. I wish I could stay longer, but the longer I'm off the grid, the less time I have to keep people from finding me.

Silver wants to talk? I'm ready to talk. On my own terms.