Arachna

Chapter 2: A Deal with the Devil

"Let me get this straight," Lance started, staring at the drink Derek had brought him: a crisp glass of whiskey.

Its woody smell fogged his thoughts. He suppressed the scoff clawing its way up his throat. His hands itched to reach for the glass and drain it in one swift gulp. The revelation of his parents' death didn't make resisting any easier. He focused on his breathing, drowning out the noise in his head.

Then again, why shouldn't he give in to his temptations? So many years had been wasted in hoping for more than just closure—a second chance. A chance to no longer be an orphan. Maybe he deserved it for what he'd done to that kid. Flashes came to him in waves: the fist slamming into his chest, the kick to his ribs, the tears sliding down his cheeks, the blood dripping from his nose, the kids chanting their encouragements.

The snorty laugh from the kid as he ignored Lance's pleas to stop.

Then the tunnel vision.

And the taste of blood.

Monster.

Lance shook his head then crossed his arms and legs, closed off to the three strangers in the room in an attempt to hide his discomfort. He slid the drink away, his hand shaking. Kaela eyed it then stared at her own empty glass with a deep frown.

He continued, "You want me to gather information for you, and... just tell you if I hear anything interesting?"

Eric wore a lopsided smile. "I'll occasionally ask you to get specific info for certain clients, but yes. Let me know all the gossip in the slums that you can gather. Shootings, gang activity, whatever you can get your greasy little hands on."

Lance sighed. "I don't know how I feel about letting a bunch of strangers tamper with my store. I bought that place with my own money."

"And I respect that." Eric smiled devilishly, his fingers tapping lightly against his cane. "But with a paint job, some extra security, and my leadership, you'll be making more money than you ever have before... guess that's not saying much, though."

Lance frowned, but Eric's eyes just flashed with amusement.

Eric looked at Derek. "Did you get the chips I asked for?"

Derek removed a bag of chips from his leather jacket and tossed it to Eric, who caught it, opened it, and popped a chip in his mouth with a satisfied hum.

"You never paid for those," Lance said.

It was petty, and his voice cracked saying it, but it felt good to finally let a comment slip. Just one snarky remark to ease some of the tension in his chest.

Eric waved his hand. "Pay the nice man, Derek."

Derek reached under the table and revealed Lance's case. He laid it gently on the table's surface and opened it. All the money was still inside.

"I... I don't understand," Lance said, staring at the case. "You're giving me a refund?"

"Nope," Eric said through a mouthful of chips. "I'm going to use that money to fix up your store. Call it an investment. Besides, you seemed disappointed in the info I gave... and I just hate disappointing my employees."

Kaela rolled her eyes and grabbed Lance's drink. He let out a breath and almost thanked her.

"So that's all I have to do? Just grab information? There isn't anything... else you want me to do?" He avoided the word illegal, not that it was unfamiliar.

Those murky eyes peered into Lance's. "Not necessarily..."

Kaela smiled, and Derek scratched at his scruffy chin.