Simular Beings

The Legendary Battle for Kneaded Custody

Val stared at the boxing bag in the corner. The last time she'd touched that was before she'd found Bread. If she hadn't lost...

"Lass!" Coach called from the back. "Did ya take a floor jack with ya when you went to Greg's?"

"Floor jack?" Fuck! Had she left that behind? It was fine. She never left any fingerprints on her equipment. She was a professional. "No? Why the hell would I take that with me?"

"Then do you have it with ya?"

"No?"

"Greg's been askin' around, sayin' he's found something of yours."

"The hell?" Fuck him! Greg was clearly fishing for her. She wouldn't slip up like that. She wasn't that easy. "Tell him it's not mine! Who the fuck brings a floor jack to a shitty landfill? I probably lost it somewhere. I don't know! Just tell him it's not—"

There was a sudden knock at the door.

"We're closed!" she yelled.

But the knocking continued.

"Fuck, what now?!" She yelled towards the back. "Coach! There's somebody at the front! They're knocking the fuck out of our door!"

"Then go check it out!" he yelled back. "I'm busy sendin' Greg a message! You know how antsy he gets when he doesn't get a reply!"

God. Such a fucking hassle. She dragged her feet towards the door.

Another knock. Thrice this time.

"I'm coming! Be a little more patient, okay?! Jesus fucking Christ." What kind of messed up day was today? Couldn't she just get some rest for once? She'd been stealing crap all night just to make ends meet.

Why couldn't the world just leave her the fuck alone?

"What do you want?" She begrudgingly pushed the door open. A well-built man in an all-black suit stared back. He looked extremely wealthy. Absolutely out of her league in every way possible. "Oh, fuck."

"Valerie Briarwood. Would that be you?"

Again with the last name? How were people finding it out? Was it recorded somewhere really goddamn public? It wasn't like she was flaunting it. She'd never do that.

"Are you Valerie Briarwood?" he asked again.

"Yeah, what's it to you?"

"Where's the boy?"

"Boy?" Shit, is he talking about Bread? This guy definitely had something to do with Simular. He had that smell. She was sure of it. Why was he here? Wasn't that Azan guy supposed to deal with everything?

"You've logged into Simular recently, yes?"

"How recent we talking about?" Should she answer truthfully? She had a feeling getting on this guy's bad side was definitely a death sentence. The dude was literally stacked in cash—a one-of-a-kind vintage painite watch, a tritium-infused display brooch, and those red diamond cufflinks! She knew what pricey looked like, and it didn't take a thief to recognize that.

Nobody in the city intentionally walked around flaunting this kind of wealth unless they had something to back it up. Otherwise, they'd be target practice for the local gangs. But this man was brimming with confidence. She could tell by the way he stood; there was no sign of weakness to his form.

This conversation had to tread with extreme care.

"I assume that means a yes." The man voiced a long, tired sigh. "You seem distracted. Could you pay attention, please?"

"What do you want? I don't have anything."

"I'm just looking for information about a missing boy."

She was right. He was looking for Bread.

"Have you seen a boy during your visit to the developers' headquarters? From your Roscoerama win?"

"At the headquarters?" He even knew about the win? This guy was dangerous for sure. "You mean that Azan guy? He showed me a bucket on the tour."

"No, younger."

"Uh, I've seen a bunch of kids during the tournament."

"Have you seen a boy while you were at the headquarters? He's about four or five feet tall." The man showed her with his hands. "Around this height."

Val shook her head. "No, all I remember is that stupid bucket."

The man sighed again.

"Who is it, lass?" Coach called from the back.

Shut up, Coach!

"Is somebody else back there?" the man asked.

"Coach. My boxing coach." She motioned towards the sandbags. "We're a boxing gym, after all."

"Can I talk to him?"

"No? Why?"

"Lass?" Coach walked up behind her.

"Coach!" She silently mouthed back a bunch of profanities. Hopefully, he got the message. "This, uh, gentleman here wants to know if we've seen a little boy during our very short and uneventful session in Simular."

"Oh, no we haven't, sir." Coach forced an uncomfortable grin. It was his signature expression he made, and it was so fucking suspicious.

The man nodded. Then his gaze turned more stern. "Where is the boy?"

"What?" she asked. "I just told you—"

"Where is he?"

"I told you, he's not here!" This guy was kind of pissing her off now. "Who do you fucking think—"

Coach butted in, "I'm sorry, sir. We haven't seen any boys yet." He let out a hearty chuckle. "If there were any, I'd be glad to welcome them to my boxing course. We need some cash, ya see."

"If you do have the boy," the man said, "you'd be in possession of private property. Remember that."

"What the fuck did you just say?" Did he just insinuate that Bread was some kind of property? "Say that to my face agai—"

"Lass!" Coach yelled. "Enough."

"Coach, he just—"

"Enough." He turned towards the man. "I think you've overstayed your welcome, sir. Can ya leave?"

The man visibly backed off just a little. "I see. Perhaps you weren't involved, after all. My apologies." He started to walk away from the door. "Have a nice day."

"Coach?" a higher-pitched voice rang out from the workshop in the back.

Bread! Val caught her breath.

Coach floundered towards the back. His attempts to make it not so obvious were having the opposite effect.

The man stopped in his tracks, briefly turning back around.

Val jumped in front of the door. "Leave. Please." Beads of sweat rolled down the sides of her cheeks. Smile, she told herself. Look natural. "Today's not a good day for us."

The man raised a brow, but after a long, almost standoffish while, he finally turned away and left.

Val slammed the door shut. Coach stared back with ragged breaths as Bread managed to squeeze his head out from behind the corner. She quickly scanned the vicinity one more time. No sign of him. Nothing. The man was gone like the wind.

Finally, she breathed. And she let out a deep sigh of relief.