Read on Inkitt.

Chapter 4

The lights of the small eatery seemed brighter than they had in my memory. The smells, the feel of the plastic wicker chairs against my legs unfamiliar but welcomed. They weren’t the most comfortable, but I had no complaints. Sitting here without any trepidation and enjoying food was something I still considered a luxury.

The decor hadn’t changed much over the years. But I missed the cushions on the seats if I was being completely honest. Not a complaint, just observation.

I couldn’t have said for certain why I kept insisting on coming back to this cafe. Especially after visiting it in my memory earlier this morning. I guess I was determined to replace the old with new and better ones. Besides, the food and tea were too good to avoid.

“Anything you want to tell me?” Alijah asked taking a sip of his dramatically large coffee.

He’d let his dark hair grow since I last saw him. The straight strands brushed the bottoms of his ears when he bent his head forward. His summer tan was long gone causing his rich brown eyes to stand out even more than usual. The only pair of brown eyes I ever truly liked. They felt warm and inviting to me.

“Rough week at work.” It wasn’t a lie. It had been a trying week. It was only Saturday but I felt like I only had a few minutes before returning to the office.

His smile may have been going for comfort, but his eyes said he didn’t believe me. The shadows under my eyes told him exactly what was wrong. Even after running myself to near exhaustion in the park, the ghosts of relationships past still lingered.

There wasn’t pity in Alijah’s eyes, not anymore, mainly because he still blamed himself too. That was even worse. No one was to blame for my life decisions but myself. If it wasn’t Bethany, it was Alijah’s guilt over things they had no control over. I was the only one entitled to guilt.

Dipping a fry into a creamy mixture of mayo and ketchup, I tried to dive into salty-sweet combinations of avoidance. The combination exploded in my mouth. Some of the juices from my hamburger had been absorbed by the fries. Near bliss. It wasn’t quite strong enough to drown everything out. Fortunately Alijah knew when to let the dead lie.

“Speaking of jobs,” began Alijah mouth full of his own burger. Wiping his hands on a waded up napkin, he paused to finish chewing, mostly.

I’d never understood how he drank hot coffee with burgers. It was his usually order here. Baffling.

Stopping myself from sighing, I waited. My big brother had never held a steady job in his life. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t reliable and hadn’t been able to give me everything he could growing up. Because he was and he had.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said clearly reading my thoughts. “I’ve worked for this guy before, Lars. His company pays well and it the work isn’t difficult.”

“What does this guy, Lars, have you doing?” I pried. No matter how hard I tried, how sly I thought I was being, Alijah never told me exactly what he did. Ever.

I always assumed it was all done within legal limits simply due to the fact that we never had to hide. There was never a time when we had to be careful or avoid certain situations. I knew he was confident, but when it came to my safety, Alijah never took anything for granted.

Growing up he provided what we needed to not just survive but live comfortably since our parents left when I twelve and Alijah was sixteen.

But the last several years he had been working as an independent contractor with some very large corporations, according to him. What they independently contracted him to do was still a mystery. Alijah never said more than he was a liaison between corporate empires. Leaving each job with a large sum of money. All paid by legitimate payroll checks. Taxes withdrawn and everything. Too bad the check only stated the payroll company and never the corporation name. Believe me, I’ve snooped many times.

I kept telling myself there wasn’t anything to worry about as long as his contracts were clearly on the books, as it were. Paper trails were not laid if they didn’t want anyone following the path.

“You might not hear from me for a few days,” Alijah informed me casually.

That cavalier attitude made me skeptical. It wouldn’t be the first time we would have a gap in our almost daily communications. Most likely wouldn’t be the last.

This time Alijah’s casual mannerisms and attitude were forced though. He was trying to convince me. Which meant I had every reason to be suspicious.

“How long?” I asked trying to mimic his tone.

“Three days. A week tops,” he answered purposefully matching my tone.

This was becoming a game to him.

“In town?”

“Not sure.”

“How do you not know?” I accused dropping any semblance of causality.

“Sorry, Noa, I go where they tell me. Sometimes I don’t get told until we are on the way there,” he admitted shrugging a shoulder.

Frustrated, I knew that was the best I was going to get from him. Most times I wondered if that was because he couldn’t tell me or if he wouldn’t. It had always been like that. Since our parents left.

“Alijah?”

“Yes, Noa,” he said anticipating more questions about his upcoming job.

“Do you remember when I was a kid?” I asked tentatively.

“Of course,” he answered cautiously. He never liked to talk about when I was small child.

“Were our parents bad people?”

My brain was stuffed with memories. High school, dances, first dates, graduation, college, that trip to Cancun. But before the age of ten, everything was either fuzzy or nonexistent. On rare occasions I would ask Alijah about our parents. He never gave much in the way of specifics. Just enough to get me to stop asking questions.

There were a few things I did remember. I was sure I would be able to pick our parents out of a line up or recognize them on the street. I remembered they would come home for a few days just to leave again. Always traveling. But none of that meant they were memories from before they left. I had a solid two years of memories with their sporadic presence to draw on. Beyond those vague years, there was nothing.

“Noa.” Running his hand down his face, Alijah sighed. This lunch undoubtedly more exhausting than he anticipated. “Why would you ask that?”

“Did you always protect me this much?”

“I’m your family,” he said resting his forearms on the table and leaning over to me. “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to keep you safe. You believe that don’t you?”

“Of course.”

And I did. Sometimes I got the feeling he protected me too much. To the point of hiding vital details from me. Something I chalked up to paranoia. Alijah was the only family I had. Besides Bethany of course, we were each other’s chosen family.

Throwing his napkin on the table, surveying his empty plate, Alijah leaned back into his chair clearly proud of himself. At thirty-three he ate like a teenage football player while managing to remain lean. Where he put it all was a mystery of the supernatural kind, I was sure.

“What are your plans this weekend?”

Ah, the famous Alijah Whiplash. His way of politely telling me that the conversation was over and forgotten. Time to move on because he had.

“Bethany is coming over tonight.” While I did tell him about going to a club the night before, I may have left out the part about ending up in some stranger’s bed. Interestingly, he would be more concerned that I walked across a third of the city at night, by myself than sleeping with a stranger.

He may have accepted what I went through to heal after my last relationship, but that had purpose he could understand. One night stands in order to keep the demons at bay, he couldn’t wrap his head around. He saw that behavior as inviting danger. Not that I could argue with that logic. I just felt I was a different person now. Able to handle myself.

“Thank God. You need to unwind. All work and no play and all that.”

“Are you saying if I don’t spend time with Bethany I’ll turn into a homicidal maniac running around with an ax?” I teased.

“Eh,” he said with a noncommittal shrug. “All I am saying is that it’s time for your social life to outweigh your work life.”

“You’re one to talk,” I accused. Once in a while Alijah would tell me about going out to grab a drink with friends or a dinner date. As far as I knew he had never had a girlfriend or dated anyone seriously. According to Bethany, he was not lacking for company.

I quickly enacted the Alijah Whiplash and changed the subject. “Any interesting plans yourself?” I asked.

“Never thought you’d want to know about that part of my life. But, we could talk about my sex life if you’d like. I did have dinner with this one woman the other night.” He paused to smile at himself. “Well, we never actually got to dinner.”

“Enough,” I demanded holding up my hands to ward off his words.

“Would you rather we talk about your sex life?” he asked earnestly. “What happened at the club? I’m sure something happened. You went with Bethany. If memory serves correctly, she never lets you leave the house in anything resembling actual clothing.” Pausing to take a drink from his coffee, he whipped his head to the side, imitating Bethany. “You may be short, but you have great legs,” he offered doing his best impression of Bethany. Which I hated to admit was eerily spot on. Something he had always had a knack for, mimicking others. I was completely convinced it was one of his super powers

I may not have been able to imitate anyone to his degree, but I could play his game. Hopefully it would end the conversation quickly.

“You’re right,” I admitted with false defeat.

“That’s the spirit,” he said encouragingly.

“Skimpy outfits are great,” I said tapping my finger against my chin. “That way when I shake my ass against some stranger it will ride up just enough for him to grab a handful. Then I’ll really be be able to feel his. . .”

“Alright, would you look at the time. I’ve got stuff to do. And you need to make sure you have some big comfy sweats to wear tonight over your chastity belt. Busy, busy,” he said.

“I love you, Ali,” I said trying to ease his discomfort but not trying to hide my satisfied smile.

“Love you too, Half Pint,” he said pulling his wallet from his jeans trying to hide his smile.