ᴜɴᴛɪᴛʟᴇᴅ ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇ ɴᴏ.4
ᴀ/ɴ: ɴᴏ ɪɴᴛᴇɴᴅᴇᴅ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴀɴᴄᴇ
Elijah sipped the last of the beverage out of the styrofoam cup. Stakeout assignments were well required in his job description, but they didn't make them any less boring. Private investigation utilized the skill sets that he learned in the army, without triggering his PTSD. The job required odd hours, which were the only hours his body would reasonably adjust to. It was a good night if Elijah could get six hours of sleep, thanks to his nightly Melatonin tablet.
The soothing rasp of Sam Cooke floated through his rusty sedan. It was a miracle the tin can could even move. It was a car that his father worked on when he was a kid. A true definition of a fixer-upper. The only thing separating him from living on the streets was his discharge from the Army. Back when work was hard to come by without a high school diploma.
He got into the business by doing an old favor to a neighbor who prepared him meals. She had a lingering suspicion that her husband was seeing other women, and paid him fifty bucks to follow him around. It led to the eventual end of the relationship, but also opened the door for many clients who wanted to pay for his services. He was thorough for every assignment, pictures, videos, receipts, all to be placed in a manila folder for his clients to inspect to their approval.
The assignment he was on at the time was in Mississippi. This client is paying him extra to cross state lines and recover physical evidence of the affair. He snapped a couple of pictures of the man, who was leaning into the woman's personal space. The age difference between them was obvious, as the girl didn't look old enough to buy a drink from the bar they were leaving.
Elijah's phone buzzed on the dashboard. He ignored it, figuring it was probably his kid brother. A second passed before his phone started to ring again. His target and the young woman were getting ready to leave. Elijah snapped a picture of him opening the passenger door for her.
He flipped his phone up to look at the caller ID. Your number appeared on the screen. His thumb hovered, his brain battling between duty and curiosity. He needed to ensure he didn't miss any evidence. Against his better judgement he answered the phone.
"Elijah?" Your voice was soft, it sounded like you were far away from the phone.
He wanted to keep his voice even. "Is everything alright?"
"I need you to come over."
Elijah took a pregnant pause. It was like you were speaking in code, and he was unlocking it any time soon.
"Can it wait? I'm in the middle of something." Remembering he was at work, he started his car and followed the target's car. Remaining at least five cars behind not to blow his cover.
"No," you cut in, the tremble in your voice becoming evident. "Please, Elijah. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't serious."
Elijah could feel the unresolved tension sparking between them.
"✮."
"It's about our son. I think he might be in danger." His foot nearly slammed down on the brakes. He ignored the furious honk from the car that nearly rear-ended him. His attention is no longer focused on his assignment. Sirens rang in his mind at the mention of his son. He switched lanes and got on the highway as fast as he could.
You stood near the front of the door, anticipating Elijah’s arrival. You were sure he was flying down whatever road to get to your home. Your son, Cole, was tucked into bed for the night. Safe and oblivious to the distress his mother was in.
Knocking on the door, Elijah made his presence known. You lifted the blinds and double-checked the peephole. With the unlatching of the lock, Elijah made his way into your living room.
“What happened?” he demanded, barely giving you time to speak.
“Where is he?”
“Upstairs. Asleep. I checked on him five minutes ago,” You whispered, shutting the door behind them. You shoved a crumpled note into his hands.
You can’t hide forever. We’ll take what you love most.
Elijah stared at the paper, his jaw clenched. “Who left this?”
“I found it taped to the door when I got home from work. Elijah, what is going on? Who would do this?” Her voice trembled, but there was steel beneath the fear.
His mind raced, trying to create and eliminate people who would hold a grudge against him or you. Until he remembed his time in Chicago.
He hesitated, the secrets of years pressing at his chest. Finally, he sank onto the couch. “I know who left this.”
“Tell me!”
“Luciano Morelli. He’s the leader of the Italian mob in Chicago. He’s the real reason Stack and I left Chicago.”
Your eyes narrowed, and hurt flickered across your face. To this day, you were left in the dark about what all happened in Chicago. Every time you asked, he’d say he didn’t want to worry you.
“You said it was for a job. You said—”
“I lied,” Elijah snapped, guilt raw in his voice. “It wasn’t a job. It was my brother and I… we robbed someone. The Italian mob. We thought we got away with it, but…”
Your breath caught, anger flaring. “You did this?! You brought this on us? On our son? Elijah, how could you—”
“I was desperate! We needed money.”
She cut him off, voice rising. “You thought what? That you could just steal from the mob and walk away? That it wouldn’t follow you!”
Elijah’s voice cracked. “I didn’t know it would go this far. I’m sorry.”
You shook your head, tears in your eyes. “Sorry doesn’t protect him. What do we do now, Elijah? How do we fix this?”
Elijah looked down at the note, the weight of his past finally crushing him. “I’ll do whatever it takes. I promise.”
Your hands balled into fists. "You keep lying, Elijah! You keep making promises you can’t keep, and now our son might pay the price. You think an apology fixes this? I trusted you. I let you into our lives again, and you—"
Elijah’s voice broke, pleading. "I was trying to protect you both. I thought if I left, if I stayed away, it would be enough—"
"Enough?" you spat. "You let a monster in the house and thought locking the door would keep us safe? You’re pathetic. If anything happens to Cole because of you, I swear to God, Elijah, I’ll kill you myself."
He flinched, pain flashing across his face. "I know I messed up. But I’m not leaving you to handle this alone. I will keep you both safe."
You pushed past him, wiping angry tears from her cheeks. "You have no right to promise me anything. Not anymore. But I’ll tell you this, no one touches my son."
Elijah nodded, swallowing hard.
You glared at him, your voice low and threatening. "I mean it, Elijah. You get one chance. One. If you screw this up, you’ll wish the mob got to you first."