Criminal

Prologue

It was a Friday morning when I walked into the diner that would change my life. I was 23 at the time when I walked into the local diner to grab a cup of coffee before starting my day. I sat there at the bar in a cushioned bar stool, waiting for the waitress to notice me. I sat there and shuffled through my purse to make sure I had enough cash for a coffee. While I was looking through my bag, I saw a shadow loom over me and sit down adjacent to me. I glanced over for a second, acknowledging this man's presence and kept shuffling until I found my wallet. I counted the four dollars that would cover the coffee bill and put my bag on my lap.

The waitress finally noticed me with her permed blonde curls and tacky eye make up. I told her my order as to which she turned around and began my minuscule order of coffee and cream. I tapped the bar and waited, thinking about how I needed to pay my rent and pay my phone bill. More places to travel and waste gas just to survive. I wasn't even living at that point, I was just a shell of a person and breathing was the only thing I was good at.

I sighed and the waitress handed me my coffee. I thanked her and took a sip, admiring the setting around me. I was fixed on a painting on the wall next to the hood of the bar area. It was an abstract painting with blue, red and purple hues all splattered around. I tried to make out an image within the painting before my attention was diverted by a clear voice.

"Hey miss, what are you doing here alone?" The man asked as I turned to face him.

"I'm just here alone, drinking coffee before I have to go function like a person," I replied timidly and off guard.

He nodded and asked the waitress for some coffee. I could tell this man was some sort of biker or rebel with the coat of tattoos he wore head to toe. I could only see his left side but from what I could see it was ink paradise. I couldn't help but examine the tattoos on his arms that weren't covered by the Circle Jerks tee he wore, a leather jacket resting on his lap. I noticed the hand tattoos and the ones all over his biceps. He got his coffee and turned to me, noticing my staring.

I blushed a little and turned my attention to my coffee which I took a sip out of. I singed my tongue a little but nothing too bad.

"How are you doing this fine morning?" He asked, drinking some coffee and setting it down, his whole body turned to me. He had his right foot on the bar stool foot rest and his left foot out on the diner's carpet floor. He looked so causal and fluent which I was the total opposite of.

"I'm, alright, I guess? Pretty uneventful morning so far. It's only the morning, too," I spoke back in my quiet, introverted manner.

"That's true," he answered, nodding tentatively, taking what I said into account.

There was an awkward silence as I drank my coffee. I wasn't the conversationalist in my family, I the more modest and reserved Christian girl they always hoped to have. I hated people and I hated seemingly everyone on the face of the earth besides my brother Evan.

"I'm alright too, if you were wondering," he spoke into the silence, turning away a little and sipping at his coffee.

I nodded, listening to him, drinking my coffee which was halfway empty.

"You seem really quiet, not much of a talker?" He teased me, chuckling before taking a swig of his coffee.

"No, not really. I'm just a bit of a loner," I answered, not annoyed but still jarred by the sudden conversation I was not prepared for.

"And why is that? You seem like a nice lady,".

"Just because I don't have friends doesn't mean I'm not nice. I've always found comfort within myself and my thoughts," I replied matter of factly.

He stared at me with piercing eyes that could cut through diamond. I tried not to be intimidated but I would be lying if I said I wasn't just a little.

"Something probably happened to you, something personal, so, instead of getting attached again, you stay alone; or maybe I'm reading you wrong and you're genuinely an introvert," he spoke under his breath so no one could hear him but him and myself. He wasn't wrong but wasn't exactly right.

"That's an 'all of the above' answer on a test," I giggled awkwardly as somehow he had figured me out.

"I've been on this Earth for almost 40 years, I read people pretty well. Wanna tell me some more?" He pried at me like I was a vault full of money and treasures.

"So you're almost 40?" I changed the subject, flickering my pupils into his direction, gripping my coffee mug from the tension.

"Yes, I'm turning 38 soon. You never answered my question,".

"Well, if I'm incapable of trusting people, why would I let you in on why?"  I retorted, drinking some of my coffee. This sensitive subject was not for some random man to hear, someone I didn't even know the name of.

"Because secretly, you really want to let it all out but no one gives you the time of day. When you try to let it out, others water it down and make you feel insecure about your own self worth," he raised and eyebrow and drank three gulps straight from his coffee which almost left it empty, which meant hopefully the conversation would end.

I remained silent. He had me all figured out but I couldn't let him know that. "You think you've got me all figured out, don't you?" I answered back, more hostile than last time I had spoke.

He stayed silent, watching my face, reading me like an open diary. It was like my lock was broken and someone could just jiggle the lock a little and open it, and read all of the contents inside of me. I shuddered and glared at him. I couldn't help but be semi-interested in this strange character.

He sighed before saying, "Let's make a deal; if we ever see eachother again, you're going to tell me everything about yourself. Give me your damage. Maybe even run away with me. Because, frankly, I find you very interesting," He lent out a hand for a shake.

I knew the possibility of me ever seeing him again was slim, maybe a 0.0001% chance. I gulped as his hand stood there, waiting. I swallowed my pride and shook on it, finalizing the deal. He smiled generously and put on his leather jacket as he stood up. He finished his coffee in one swig and set it on the counter.

"I don't think I caught your name, dollface," he smirked, leaning closer to me, resting his hand on the bar right next to my cup of coffee.

"It's Jamia, not dollface," I answered avoiding eye contact sheepishly.

He went to introduce himself before the waitress interrupted our belated introduction. "Ma'am, is this gentleman bothering you?" She spoke towards me, making me and the man's head swerve towards her. He stared at her hard, as if he was stabbing her with his own two pupils.

"I was just about to leave, Gladys. Mind your business," he raised his voice slightly but it didn't make me flinch, instead it made me stiffen.

The woman, Gladys, huffed and threatened to call the police if he didn't leave me alone.

"You leave us the fuck alone, I was about to leave anyways. I am not bothering this young lady, Jamia, at all; am I bothering you Jamia?" he asked, turning his head towards me. I shook my head violently "no" and he smiled. He turned back to the woman, saying, "Mind your business you're not a martyr."

"I'm going to call the police," she finalized as she walked over to the phone.

"Save them the effort, I was about to leave," he rolled his eyes. I noticed the entire diner staring at us.

The man leaned over and whispered, "The name's Frank, Frank Iero."

He left the diner swiftly and I couldnt shake the vibration he left in my ear. The waitress kept apologizing to me and telling the diner everything was fine. I finished my coffee and left, smacking the money on the counter and rushing out, clutching my bag in shock. I had no idea how the hell I even got myself in that situation but I knew I had to get to work. I glanced over and I saw the man, Frank Iero, sitting in an AMC Eagle smoking a cigarette, hitting the roof of his car interior listening to some music. I gulped and walked to the bus stop, and sat down.

I would've liked if I hadn't seen him again, but fate had a different route for me.